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Thursday, December 23, 2010


Yesterday I gave a sort of cursory explanation of my latest leg-breaking episode but here are the gory details:

Kim and I were out running errands in her car and had just finished picking up the cashiers check for the year's taxes. We pulled out in to traffic and as we began passing Festival Foods on our left, I suddenly realized we could use some crusty bread to have with recently prepared ham and bean soup, so I asked that she make a quick turn into the Chrysler dealer's parking lot, which she did.

Now we were directly across from the entrance to Festival Foods, but the holiday traffic was bumper to bumper and no one would let us make the crossing, even though the red light down the street was causing traffic to back up all the way back to the last stop light. (I hate that!)

Finally good old rambunctious, no patience, less brains, Larry decided to get out of Kim's car and hoof it across four lanes of traffic even though I am incapable of running because of the artificial knee - thinking back on it, I am probably very lucky not to have been knocked ass over tea kettle in traffic.

But I cleared traffic and as I tried to get up on the unshoveled, icy curb, I went skyward and down! I heard either my knee or ankle make a cracking sound as I went down and as I hit the ground (still on the edge of the traffic lane) I felt a flash of white hot pain in my right knee and ankle.

Ironically, just before I lost my balance, I caught a glimpse of Kim going by on my left. She didn't see me fall and went around to the front of the grocery store to wait for my arrival.

A very good samaritan jumped out of his car and as he pulled me out of traffic asked if I was all right or should he call an ambulance. I could hardly speak at this point but told him not to call an ambulance but to give me a minute to see what I had done to my leg.

Shortly after that, with his help, we got me to my feet. By now traffic behind his car was backed up all the way to Highway 93 and people were blowing their horns and cursing. I told my helper that he had best get to his car and move on before they strung us both up.

I stood in the same spot for a few minutes, waves of nausea sweeping over me from the pain. Then I began hobbling towards my destination - but after about twenty yards I called Kim on her cell and explained what had happened.

I told her my knee was okay and that I had sprained my ankle badly.

After getting the @#$%$# bread, I decided we had best go to urgent care and have the ankle x-rayed.

We sat in the waiting room with a bunch of unruly kids that I wanted to kill - for a very long time - and finally got admitted to see a doctor. All the while I prayed that my ankle was not broken, just badly sprained. After having gone through last year's fall on ice near the office, I did not want to go through weeks of wheel chair, hard cast, crutches, and then learning how to walk on the ankle again after the cast was removed.

As soon as the doctor came in with the x-rays in hand I could tell by his face that the news was not good. We looked at the x-ray and we could clearly see a crack in the fibula (smaller of the two bones) about two inches long, about ten inches above the ankle bone.

This, of course, happened on a saturday (don't emergencies always happen on the weekend???)
so the doctor issued the plastic boot pictured, told me to keep the foot elevated and not to put any weight on it until I got word back from and orthopedist on monday.

Monday I got some REALLY good news. I won't have to have surgery. I won't have to wear a hard cast. I won't have to use crutches unless I want them to ease pain while walking. I am using crutches currently.

I am not going to be able to drive for six weeks because it is my right foot that is encased in plastic and that makes it much too wide. I could end up accelerating while trying to use the brake.

I want to give a shout out to whomever that nice guy was who came to my aid while I was writhing in pain and I cannot tell you how fortunate I am to have Kim Wilson as my loving partner. Lesser women would have divorced me by now.

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