First, I was wearing shoes. I think this was a mistake on my part since I usually wear sandals. In fact, I always wear sandals. I just happened to put on my shoes so I could help my husband cut down a dead tree. I will never wear shoes again.
My husband proceeded to help me into the house. He was asking me what happened and I could not really say anything except there may have been a matchstick in the driveway that tripped me.
He wanted to take me to the emergency room. I hate going to the emergency room, especially on the weekend, I refused.
This morning my ankle is three times it's normal size and black. I had to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night. I crawled because I could not stand the pain when I walked. This morning I slid down the stairs on my rump because stairs and a hurt ankle don't mix. I wish I could crawl around downstairs but the wood floors hurt my knees.
I broke my ankle marching in the Battle of Flowers Parade when I was a teenager. I think tripped on one of those round yellow bump things in the road. All I can really remember was tripping. I marched the rest of the parade in pain. When I got home my father saw my ankle and rushed me to the emergency room.
My ankle looks pretty much the way it did back then. However, this time I hope it's only a sprain.
I'm waiting here for the clinic to open so I can get an X-ray done...
UPDATE: We went to the clinic. The doctor was more concerned about my blood pressure than my ankle! I do have high blood pressure. She said this was too high: 245/180. I explained to her I was, and have been, in an incredible amount of pain. She said she would give me a point or two for pain but not this much.
They gave me a dose of Clonidine to lower my BP. I was told at this point they would not release me until my BP went down.
Then she looked at my foot. She said, "Ouch, that looks painful!" Then she started pushing on it! I about jumped out of the chair.
She then told me it looks broken but they would take X-rays to be sure. I had to wait for X-ray because there were two ahead of me. It didn't matter much since I could not leave anyway.
I sat and waited, and waited, and waited. Finally the nurse came back to take my BP. 193/130. The doctor made me take another dose of Clonidine.
X-ray came to take pictures of my ankle. I was returned to my cubical to wait. My husband and little girl joined me there. Why should I have to sit there by myself? The little one was not too pleased to be there. In the waiting room there was toys to play with.
My husband was upset about my BP being so high. He wanted to know why I hadn't gone to see the family doctor to refill my BP meds. Well I have a reason, it may not be good for some but I have one, he retired.
The doctor came back with good news about my ankle, it's only a sprain. This was a relief. I could not imagine wearing a cast for weeks on end.
I still had to wait for the second dose of Clonidine to take effect and have my BP checked before I could leave. The nurse came back with a pair of crutches and a splint for my ankle. After he got me fitted and braced I was told I had to wait a bit longer, 20 minutes.
In a small cubical, with an impatient child, and a worried husband, 20 minutes is like an eternity...
The nurse came back and took my BP. 166/113. He left.
The doctor said since there was improvement, I could go. She prescribed Procardia, which I had been taking before my doctor retired. Really, I wanted a new doctor closer to home anyway. She referred me to another doctor up the road. She warned me I could have a stroke or heart attack with BP that high.
I realize my heath is important. I take pretty good care of myself. I take vitamins, exercise, and eat right (for the most part). I don't understand the high BP. I guess it's not for me to understand. I just have to take care of it.
Before I get chastized for not going to the doctor for the BP, I have been feeling pretty good. I monitor it at home and it's been high but not like what it was at the clinic.
Perhaps the sprained ankle was a warning sign. Thanks to it I'll be heading to another doctor for a follow-up...
Here's my poor ankle, this is after three days of ice and elevation. Granted it is a lot better than it was.
Here you can see the difference in size, still three days. I wish it would just go away.