Remember last June when I ran my way into a stress fracture and ended up in a cast? Yeah, same foot.
I came home from the family turkey day yesterday, got the dog out of the back seat, started to go in the house and then thought, I wonder if I locked the side door after I took all the stuff out of the car through it? So I went to check, and you know how sometimes a concrete driveway will be a bit taller than the dirt next to it? It was hidden by leaves, plus it was dark and I had the dog, and my foot landed right on the edge and my ankle turned under and I went down right on top of it. Hurt like hell and I thought I’d reinjured that ankle.
Now I know, nope, whatever I did I did to the foot, right there in that hollow at the side away from the arch, you know, in front of and to the outside of your ankle. It’s swollen and it hurts like a stone bitch and I can’t sleep and you know that my insurance is NOT going to call it an emergency. It’s got to be broken - the pain is constant and keeping me awake, not just when I move it. Of course, no compression bandages in the house, so I gave up and got out of bed to ice it. Limping on it is a pain I don’t really like to describe on a family internet.
It sucks so hard I can’t even tell you. There goes that marathon again. I don’t even know what the hell to do about it, since my primary care physician is probably not open Thanksgiving Friday. I guess I call at 9 to see if they’re open and if they aren’t then gird my loins to, urgh, talk to the insurance company. Thanks for preemptively ruining Christmas, foot.
ETA - oh, the car door? Locked anyway. And the boyfriend drove up not thirty seconds later - if he’d just been his usual leadfoot self he would have been there and distracted me and it wouldn’t even have happened. As it was I had to get up with the damned dog’s help.