Saturday night Mikiko's friend Sabrina had a going away party for herself. Yet another party I was invited to that I couldn't enjoy to the fullest. But she made it so that the underagers could come early and have food, and then after 9:30 leave so that everyone else could drink.
Sadly I was the only underager.
But approximately 50 feet from her door I crashed my scooter on a branch on the dark street because I was going around the sidewalk. For some odd reason it has a gigantic hole in the middle of it and signs that say "Sidewalk Closed". It has for several months now.
But I hit the branch, and totally went down. I had suspected that the scooter was rather unstable. But I was unaware exactly how unstable until the moment I went flying.
I sprained my ankle.
So I'm sure that you're thinking "You were a long distance runner! I'm sure this has happened before!"
Sure, I've hurt my ankles, and knees. I don't have the strongest joints in the world. And in my first couple of years sprinting in track I had to tape one or both of my ankles to keep them from giving out on me. But after years of training and strengthening I could roll them and ache a little bit for a day or two at the most and then be fine.
So I went to the party and sat on the floor next to the table eating stuffed peppers expecting my ankle to be just fine by the time I had to leave. I had arrived at 8:40.
I left at 10 at a pathetic limp.
I was suddenly aware that this was unlike any ankle injury I'd ever had before. I've hurt them, sure. I've had to ice and tape them, definitely. They've been weak enough that I've been unable to run several times. But I've never gotten the distinct feeling that I had actually fucked them up.
It was not a comfortable feeling to realize this, for sure.
I used my scooter as a makeshift cane to limp home, alone, and iced my ankle. In the middle of the night it even woke me up. I knew then that something as wrong. It's not uncommon for me to hurt myself and have a hurt for a few days, but to have it wake me up at night when I'm not doing anything to it?
Great.
The next day I overdosed the poor thing with tape, hoping that immobilizing it would keep swelling from happening. I sat with it taped all day and hoped to whoever is up in the bright blue sky that all would be better.
It wasn't. I have developed a sudden hatred of the fact I live in a two story apartment, actually.
So Monday morning I woke up to a bright blue sky (not really), birds chirping, and a throbbing ankle.
Needless to say, I called the Health Center.
I got a recording, oddly enough. So I left my name, number, and what was up.
I went to the Humanities building to drop off a paper, but the teacher wasn't there so I took it to the Humanities' office to get it stamped. Just as I went in my phone rang. I answered, answered all the questions the desk lady posed me and then she asked me how I sprained my ankle. When I told her that I crashed my scooter she laughed at me!!! I couldn't believe it, this random lady started laughing over the phone at me. And then she said "I'll have someone call you back." And hung up.
So I hobbled down the stairs, was stopped by someone and shoved into the elevator, and rode it to the basement.
My Ling. teacher set up a super long study session in the basement from 8:30 until 11:50, and only two ppl showed up!
It got interrupted for me cause the Health Center finally called me back, accused me of not making the appointment soon enough (hullo! I injured myself on saturday, they aren't even opened on the weekend!)and was told to come in at 1 even though they had no appointments free and they'd try to shove me in.
I stayed at the Ling. study session for the full 3 hours even though I hadn't planned to because I felt so guilty that no one else showed up. As a direct result I had to spend my entire lunch date with a friend (no really, just a friend) typing up the paper I had put off that was due for Literature.
Normally not a problem, but I obviously wasn't in the headspace for it, so it was like pulling teeth.
At 10 until one the friend walked with me whilst i hobbled to the Health Center to make sure I didn't attempt suicide or something again, and with the amount of stress I was in it was entirely possible that I would've tried :D
I show up and the secretary frowns at me for a bit and shuffles me from window to window. But since the other receptionist remembers fitting me in she signs me in and tells me to sit down. I sling my wounded leg over the edge of the chair and just get comfortable when I realize that I left my soda at the receptionist window.
So I get up and stagger across the room, and snag a "Where's Waldo" book on the way back.
I sit down, get comfy, make sure I haven't forgotten anything, and then settle into finding Waldo.
Which is of course when the receptionist tells me that my "appointment" (ha, what appointment? Those are mythical around here) was actually for 2 o'clock.
SO?! Did it really look like I was going anywhere? I didn't care if I had to wait for 3 hours: I wasn't budging.
Luckily, the nurse came to get me within 20 minutes.
The nurse was even more impersonal than normal, but she was nice. And didn't make any odd comments.
I am a little excited though: I've gained weight! Okay, so that's not always a good thing. But considering that I'm 6 ft. tall and even for me 124 pounds is a little over the top....Gaining up to 134 is pretty darned cool. I imagine a couple pounds of that is clothes, but who cares? I'm healthier! My ribs won't stick out as much! I might be skinny, but I don't like being skinny. The idea of anorexia scares the crap out of me, it's a huge phobia of mine. And with my poor eating habits and my excellent metabolism it's a very real possibility. So to all of you people out there that ask me if I'm anorexic? Piss off! Over my dead body.
So the nice nursey-poo got the doctor in (another nurse, actually. I'm not sure if the school has any doctors) he poked and prodded me and said that i did an excellent job with my injury after-care *preens*.
Learned something new, though: Don't ever heat an actual injury. Not entirely certain why, but I think it has to do with the inflammation or something. Muscles on the other hand, they are fair game. Good thing I didn't make this mistake!
So he recommended that I try the stirrup brace and that I could wear it in my shoe and that I be super careful for the next month: I guess that is the danger zone or something. If I injure the blasted thing again during that time, I guess there is a chance of me really screwing up my poor ankle for the rest of my life.
*salutes* Yes Sir! I'll be super careful :D
The next day I had to go back because the lady gave me a brace for the right foot, and it was my left >.< This wouldn't have bugged me, except she's the one who helped me put it on! So I had to limp all the way back to the Health Center (my scooter is temporarily retired) and return the blasted thing.
Question: If I have insurance, then why the heck is every single doctor bill of mine being added onto my tuition? Why am I paying for insurance if it's not actually COVERING anything?!
That's all :)
Regards from Purgatory,
Monica
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