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This is a special Valentine's Day (2008) edition of "ER Visit", wherein Bekah is clumsy and stupid and sprains her ankle:
I was trying to be good. Trying to be nice. I was taking out the trash, for Pete's sake!
I somehow walked wrong and twisted my ankle,
falling down three cement steps outside our back door in the process.
I laid on the cold ground for a few minutes, leaking a few tears and wondering what the hell I was going to do. I was at home with the kids by myself.
I gathered myself together and crawled, quite literally, back into the house. I made it to the couch and took off my shoe and sock, as my ankle was already swelling. I have a random fear of being in an accident and the medical personnel being forced to cut off some article of clothing. Wierd, but off with the shoe.
Now, who to call? Dear hubs was out shopping and the man refuses to own a cell phone. Try Mamo. No answer. Try Mamo's cell phone. No answer. (slight panic) Call sister. No answer. Call sister's cell phone. Finally! She agrees to come wait with me and watch the kids when hubs returns and takes me to the ER.
Hubs returns and freaks a little. He's not good in medical situations. Read: I always take the kids to the doctor. Anyway, he pulls the car into the yard so I don't have far to hop. We high-tail it to the ER, where we are greeted with a crowded waiting room full of the sick and sniffling. February, remember?
We sit forever. I try to prop my foot on a small table, but I am bumped and jostled. No good. I am in some serious pain at this point. I am really starting to think I broke something. Despite the pain, in true photo geek fashion I ask hubs to snap a few pictures. He rolls his eyes, but complies:
Finally in an examination room, my helpful nurse takes my blood pressure.
Her: Oh, this is kind of high. Someone must be in a liitle pain!
Me, out loud: Oh, just a little. (smiling weakly)
Me, on the inside, screaming with pain and frustration: No shit, Sherlock!!
Her, frowning at my ankle: I guess you need an x-ray, huh?
Me, out loud: Yes, I think so.
Me, on the inside: You must be related to Dr. House!!
After forcing me into even more painful positions for the x-ray, it is determined that my ankle is "only"severely sprained, not broken. Mr. ER Doctor informs me that "at my age" it is often better to have a break. Me, at my advanced age of 31, can't comprehend this logic. But I went on my way with a pair of crutches and called off work for the next two days.
Moral of the story: If you need a couple of days off work, fake your illness or injury!