I spent the better part of 2004 with a big blue and black foot cast, affectionately known as The Boot. It cost me $44 dollar, but I spent 6 months in it, as my podiatrist finally determined the source of my foot pain. It was money well spent. I’ve been planning to get rid of it, but it sat out 2005 in my front porch, taking up room in a corner.
Until today.
I spent the better part of last night in urgent care, with an ankle problem. My ankle collapsed and twisted yesterday morning, and I came down hard on it. After walking on it all day — and slipping on the ice once or twice — I had some medical attention. No break, thank goodness. (Or rather — thanks to the Dairy industry) But I have a bad sprain.
So I’m back in the boot for two weeks. I am so glad I didn’t get rid of that thing. It’s like I’m back with an old friend. Me and my boot.
I did find out some interesting news at the clinic last night — at some point in the past, I had broken my ankle — my lower tibia, to be exact. Right where a bunch of ligaments would attach. When that happened, I don’t know. But I have my guesses. But now I know why this ankle craps out on me occasionally.
Back to the ice pack. I hear the ibuprofen calling my name…