So, okay, I’ve worn high heels for decades now–stiletto, stacked, platform, whatever–I like high heels; prefer them over flats. I can dance and run (in so much as I run at all these days) comfortably in high heels, never twisted an ankle or fell off them, even wore them in the mountains in Wyoming for Launch Pad (although, granted, I took extra care navigating the mountainous terrain in and around the observatory area). The one time I did sprain an ankle was in high school during P.E. class, when I was wearing athletic shoes–which I don’t wear now, as sneakers are obviously treacherous, dangerous footwear.
But on Friday, I was at my desk at work, and my foot fell asleep–just a little, not enough for me to really take notice of it. I got up to rinse out my coffee mug and my foot came down poorly with a mild ankle twist as I was standing. Nothing major, but unpleasant. Unfortunately, it didn’t respond properly when I tried to recover, being asleep, and worse, my 3″ heel had landed on the very slight unevenness between the clear plastic floor desk coaster and the carpet. My ankle twisted much worse, I heard something crunch, felt intense, jaggedy agonizing pain, and down I went.
Ouch.
At first, I thought I was going to need to call fosteronfilm to come get me from work; wasn’t sure if I’d be able to walk. But after the pain subsided enough for me to sit up, it wasn’t that bad. And I’ve only got the one intersection to walk to get to the MARTA station; it seemed silly and unnecessary to make him drive through Friday rush hour traffic. So I hobbled home, by which time my ankle had swollen, started turning pretty colors, and hurt fit to shout about.
So this weekend I spent reclined on the chaise with my foot elevated, putting ice on my @#%! ankle every other hour. I’m pretty sure I gave away or threw out the crutches I had from high school, but I’m also pretty sure I didn’t sprain my ankle as badly as that time. The elevation/ice/sedentary regime greatly reduced the swelling, and it doesn’t hurt as long as I don’t put undue stress on the ankle or let it turn.
It’s wrapped now, for support and to dissuade swelling, as this is the first time in 72 hours that it’s been lower than my hip. The walk from the MARTA station this morning wasn’t a problem. I did have to rummage through my closet for a pair of flat-heeled shoes. I wasn’t sure I owned any, but I found a pair of rarely worn sandals that I’d forgotten about. ‘Course, the reason they’re rarely worn is because they’re quite uncomfortable. Their tops are a mesh of knotted elastic straps, and the knots bite into my skin. I can’t wear them for long before I start getting painful welts across the tops of my feet. Sigh. Fortunately, I don’t need to do much moving around at work, and I don’t think folks are going to freak out if I pad around barefoot for a day or so. But also, on a wholly trivial note, they don’t go with many of my outfits . . .
I just hope I heal faster than I did in high school. It took me over a month to completely recover from that sprain. Then again, I suspect it didn’t help that I was a lot more active then, running around on it when I shouldn’t have. Plus, it was a worse sprain.
On an up note, no one was around to see my graceless flop at work. Although elemess saw the chagrined aftermath as I sat rubbing my ankle. Yay for maintaining a very small and bitty modicum of dignity. . .
. This is the same woman who told me–after a single, Likert scale questionnaire upon which I indicated that I was stressed (being unemployed at the time) and sleeping erratically–that I’d end up in a hospital if I didn’t get back on antidepressants. 
?).
Is that the coolest thing evah, or what?
