I have notoriously horrible problems with rolling, spraining, and twisting my ankles. At the moment, I am sitting with my foot elevated, ice pack on one side, skinned knee on the other, a bruised and kankled ankle hurting, but no longer throbbing. Its better than it was yesterday, but I still can't really walk very far on it, and I am horribly unstable. I'd be worried, except I've done this so many times, I can tell that by tomorrow it should be OK again if I stay off it today. Yesterday, I fell in the gutter. I was taking some copy paper boxes to my friend, she picked me up in Bainbridge when I got off the ferry. Bainbridge has this weird double curb thing going on, its a curb with a half step in it. Quit honestly, its a dangerous idea. I stepped off the curb, but not all the way because I didn't realize it was a double curb, and then I went down. I went down and I knew I wasn't getting up, not quickly.
Well, of course I posted this trauma on facebook when I got home, I could barley walk, I had to tell the world. As I did so, I got this response from Mindy, one of my former roommates:
"Aw, Mandi! You fell in the gutter again???"
I believe that this response merits an explanation to the rest of you, who are now thinking, jeez, she must fall in the gutter often. Well, yeah, I kinda do.
The first really memorable sprained ankle for me came in my 9th grade year at Syracuse Jr High, in Northern Utah. My ward Young Women's church basket ball team had just finished a killer season in our stake and had moved on up through the regional tournament. We were amazing, when we played as a team. I believe it was the semi-final round we were playing in that night, and I wanted to win.
Earlier in the day, at Jr High, we were playing basketball, and I wanted to get some good practice in, so I of course over did it and stepped wrong and sprained my ankle pretty good. My mom took me to the doctor after school and I asked if he thought I could play that night. He told me it was my choice, if I wanted to and thought I could, then I could, but it would hurt.
We wrapped my swollen ankle and shoved it in a shoe, and I played. I played horribly. I couldn't run, and it hurt like heck, and then I fell and twisted my other ankle. My mom, who was our coach, benched me. I was pissed. I kept trying to get back in the game right up until she threatened me that if I didn't sit down and shut up I would no longer be figure skating. I sat down and shut up. We lost the game.
The next year I had a doozie of a sprain while in a foreign country. I went with a bunch of French people to Germany for a weekend. It was the town Fest of Wald Michaelbach, some small village in the west of Germany by Frankfurt. We were in a hall, and everyone but me and my french friend that hated alcohol were getting terribly drunk, so it was incredibly ironic when I was the one to step wrong going down the stairs and severely sprain my ankle. Now, I didn't have travel insurance and my friend and her family were freaking out about taking me to the doctor.
"Oh no," I said "this is nothing to go to the doctor for, I do this all the time. I just need to RICE. REST ICE Compress, and Elevate." You would be surprised at how hard it is to find some ice in Germany apparently, because we couldn't find any. After hours of searching it was discovered some brilliant Frenchie decided to freeze a bottle of spring water. Voila, stuck it on my foot, stuck my foot on a pillow so it was elevated, and tried to sleep. But, before that, I decided to hobble around the cobble stone streets lined with drunk people so I could be in pain while pretending to have fun and enjoy my night in Germany.
I have had many sprains since, but those are the most memorable, right up until last January when I was sick, got up to get water because I was dehydrated, tripped on my shoes in the dark, and sprained my ankle. Since I was dehydrated, I hobbled on to the kitchen any way, and then I preceded to feel like I was going to black out from the pain of standing on that foot. somehow I made it to the couch and then I did black out for a second. It was kind of scary, so I didn't forget that one.
Now we come to the moment I fell in the gutter. It was 2001, I was at Snow College, and I was writing a missionary that I one day hoped to marry. I was taking a courtship and marriage class and the professor had a saying "falling in love is like falling in the gutter. You don't fall in love, you grow in love. You fall in lust, you fall in the gutter." Too true professor. I got a letter from my missionary and I was in a haze of absolute twiterpation as I floated to class on cloud nine, right until that moment I literally came crashing down and fell into the gutter, sprained ankle, tears, crying and all. Yeah, that missionary didn't work out so well, guess we know why. I RICEd my ankle, then I later RICEd my heart.
So yesterday, as soon as I started coming down off the curb I knew what was coming. When my friend offered to help me up, I asked her to put the boxes in the trunk and leave me on the ground for a second. It was going to hurt to stand, but I was going to do it on my own. I summoned the courage, I stood, it hurt a lot, I cried. I hobbled two feet to the car, and then I sat down and thought, "oh boy, I've fallen in the gutter again, Mindy would get a kick out of that." I cried some more, calmed my self. I do do this all the time you know. and in the past year I think I have fallen in the gutter in that figurative sense a time or two too. But I always pick myself up, hobble home, and RICE. Hearts and ankles both heal, You just need to RICE.
Well, of course I posted this trauma on facebook when I got home, I could barley walk, I had to tell the world. As I did so, I got this response from Mindy, one of my former roommates:
"Aw, Mandi! You fell in the gutter again???"
I believe that this response merits an explanation to the rest of you, who are now thinking, jeez, she must fall in the gutter often. Well, yeah, I kinda do.
The first really memorable sprained ankle for me came in my 9th grade year at Syracuse Jr High, in Northern Utah. My ward Young Women's church basket ball team had just finished a killer season in our stake and had moved on up through the regional tournament. We were amazing, when we played as a team. I believe it was the semi-final round we were playing in that night, and I wanted to win.
Earlier in the day, at Jr High, we were playing basketball, and I wanted to get some good practice in, so I of course over did it and stepped wrong and sprained my ankle pretty good. My mom took me to the doctor after school and I asked if he thought I could play that night. He told me it was my choice, if I wanted to and thought I could, then I could, but it would hurt.
We wrapped my swollen ankle and shoved it in a shoe, and I played. I played horribly. I couldn't run, and it hurt like heck, and then I fell and twisted my other ankle. My mom, who was our coach, benched me. I was pissed. I kept trying to get back in the game right up until she threatened me that if I didn't sit down and shut up I would no longer be figure skating. I sat down and shut up. We lost the game.
The next year I had a doozie of a sprain while in a foreign country. I went with a bunch of French people to Germany for a weekend. It was the town Fest of Wald Michaelbach, some small village in the west of Germany by Frankfurt. We were in a hall, and everyone but me and my french friend that hated alcohol were getting terribly drunk, so it was incredibly ironic when I was the one to step wrong going down the stairs and severely sprain my ankle. Now, I didn't have travel insurance and my friend and her family were freaking out about taking me to the doctor.
"Oh no," I said "this is nothing to go to the doctor for, I do this all the time. I just need to RICE. REST ICE Compress, and Elevate." You would be surprised at how hard it is to find some ice in Germany apparently, because we couldn't find any. After hours of searching it was discovered some brilliant Frenchie decided to freeze a bottle of spring water. Voila, stuck it on my foot, stuck my foot on a pillow so it was elevated, and tried to sleep. But, before that, I decided to hobble around the cobble stone streets lined with drunk people so I could be in pain while pretending to have fun and enjoy my night in Germany.
I have had many sprains since, but those are the most memorable, right up until last January when I was sick, got up to get water because I was dehydrated, tripped on my shoes in the dark, and sprained my ankle. Since I was dehydrated, I hobbled on to the kitchen any way, and then I preceded to feel like I was going to black out from the pain of standing on that foot. somehow I made it to the couch and then I did black out for a second. It was kind of scary, so I didn't forget that one.
Now we come to the moment I fell in the gutter. It was 2001, I was at Snow College, and I was writing a missionary that I one day hoped to marry. I was taking a courtship and marriage class and the professor had a saying "falling in love is like falling in the gutter. You don't fall in love, you grow in love. You fall in lust, you fall in the gutter." Too true professor. I got a letter from my missionary and I was in a haze of absolute twiterpation as I floated to class on cloud nine, right until that moment I literally came crashing down and fell into the gutter, sprained ankle, tears, crying and all. Yeah, that missionary didn't work out so well, guess we know why. I RICEd my ankle, then I later RICEd my heart.
So yesterday, as soon as I started coming down off the curb I knew what was coming. When my friend offered to help me up, I asked her to put the boxes in the trunk and leave me on the ground for a second. It was going to hurt to stand, but I was going to do it on my own. I summoned the courage, I stood, it hurt a lot, I cried. I hobbled two feet to the car, and then I sat down and thought, "oh boy, I've fallen in the gutter again, Mindy would get a kick out of that." I cried some more, calmed my self. I do do this all the time you know. and in the past year I think I have fallen in the gutter in that figurative sense a time or two too. But I always pick myself up, hobble home, and RICE. Hearts and ankles both heal, You just need to RICE.
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