So anyway, I jumped over a melting snowbank and landed on a tuft of grass wrong. I fell into a puddle and soaked my socks and shoes and pants. My ankle hurt for a moment, but I didn�t think it was any big deal. I went on with my walk. I walk about five miles every day, and I�m attempting to build up my speed so I�ll eventually be walking 5 miles in 55 minutes. That�s my current goal. Right now, it takes me about 75 minutes, but I�m only walking at a brisk pace, not an aerobic one. I�m well on my way though.
So I kept up my pace, ignoring my pain, thinking it was because I was wearing running shoes instead of walking shoes. I still had about two miles to go. My shins were starting to hurt since I was going faster than normal. When I got home, my feet hurt, but I didn�t think it was that big a deal. I did some stretches, cooled down by watching some Doctor Phil (I confess, I think his son is a cutie. Call me Jay!), took a shower, dried my hair and had a nap before helping to make supper. (It�s nice again, we�re barbequing practically every night.) When I got up, my ankle was so swollen it looked like a rutabaga. A big one. And plus, I have a big, ol� blister from the running shoes. I�ve been wearing a bandage on the heel of my right foot because the shoes are old and the plastic form is rubbing through and scraping my heel, hence the blistering.
I know, I know, I need new shoes. I need some walking ones. Here�s my question: Why are walking shoes so ugly and invariably white? More people walk than run, and yet there is always a greater selection of running shoes that look nine times cooler than the ugly walking shoes. But there are some nice black Nike�s at Athlete�s World. I had a feeling the salesman (and I use the term loosely. He was younger than me by about a decade) knew nothing about walking shoes. He pointed out the Nikes and that was it. It�s a small store, but really, only one kind of walking shoe? Carazy! So I plan on travelling to Regina sometime next week to look for something else. If I�m off the crutches by then.
Doctor�s suck. I tripped on Wednesday, and by Thursday afternoon, I called the doctor�s office and asked what I should do if I thought I had sprained my ankle. I�d went for a very short walk Thursday morning as I couldn�t step down on my right foot without severe pain. But because I live in this backwater berg, there are no doctors on call at the emergency room. Can you believe that? Me either! I�m more than a bit flabbergasted by this. Like, there are many, many people who need emergency medical treatment in this town, if the waiting room at the doctor�s office is any indication.
A little girl who had collapsed for no apparent reason in her driveway was shaking in her mother�s arms. Now, my ankle hurt, but dayum! I totally could have waited so this little waif could have gotten some treatment first. But they ushered me in, so I limped my way to the office, where I waited for another 15 minutes. The doctor (not my doctor, but I�m taking what I can get here) finally came in, apologized for the wait and asked me what was wrong. So I tell him and he gets me to take my shoe off and whistles when he sees how big and swollen my foot is. (It�s huge!) He gets me to swing my foot up onto his knee so he can examine it, but first he has to get my sock off. Okay, I�ve mentioned my gigantic blister, yes? Well my athletic sock is like, glued to it, but he just ripped it off, so the scab came with it. It took every ounce of will power I had to not let loose with some creative swearing. So now my blister is weeping all over the place (guh) and I�m almost crying because he�s probing my ankle.
�Does this hurt?�
�Yes.�
�Does this hurt?�
�YES!�
�How about this?�
�GOD! YES! OW!�
So he says I have to get some X-rays to rule out a broken bone. He asks me if I�ve come here by myself. Well, yeah, everybody else is at work.
Him: �Would it be rude of me to ask if you can go to the hospital?�
Me: (distracted by blinding pain) Huh? Oh, uh, no, I guess not.
Him: Okay. And you get some X-rays and I must ask again, I don�t mean to impose, but could you bring the X-rays back here?�
My brain: And this is why there should be a doctor on call at the flipping hospital! I mean, my GOD! Yes, seeing as how my foot is throbbing with pain, and it�s the foot I use to DRIVE, getting to the hospital, which is across town, and back might be a bit of an inconvenience! Plus, if it is broken, don�t you think driving and walking on it might hurt it further? Maybe? You quack!
Me: Sure. No problem.
So I drive all the way across town and get myself x-rayed up and wait for the x-rays to be done. And I bring them all the way back, wincing in pain from point a to point b. I wait in the doctor�s office again. For a much longer time. Finally, he comes in and holds my X-rays up to the window (classy) and tells me it�s not broken, but I�ve torn a ligament in my foot. He prescribes crutches for four days and anti-inflammatory medicine for ten days. And where do I have to go to get these crutches? You guessed it! The hospital! Oh, and as long as it�s not a big deal, do I think I could take the X-rays back?
Fuckin' hell. Another trip across town and $55 dollars later (the drugs are $15 and the crutches are $40) I�m a gimp. And I�m probably an even bigger gimp thanks to the frickin� medical establishment in this city. What a joke! And to make matters worse, I�m not going to be doing 5 miles in 55 minutes any time soon, since he recommended I take it easy on the walks.
Feeling: Bored now. Want to know how fast I can eat a handful of sunflower seeds? Also, my foot is less swollen than before. Now it looks less like a rutabaga and more like a squash.
Pages: Main Street - Sinclair Lewis
Notes: Kickin� it old school with The Jam - Town Called Malice
Geek Link of the Week: Studmuffins of Skepticism Rowrrr! Call me, Mr. January!
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