Climacophobia

This post will actually include several funny stories, all related to one event.

Five weeks ago, I hurt my ankle - Ha ha ha ha - oh wait, that's not a funny part. While descending the stairs in the campus bookstore, I overshot one step, thereby missing the bottom stair and doing a lovely ballet pointe, complete with a loud pop in my left ankle. As I was collapsing, I took time to consider how strange it was that instead of feeling pain where pain was due, I experienced the odd light-headedness that comes when my blood pressure has dropped; the vision becomes impaired and ears feel full of cotton... I'm pretty sure my skin felt tingly too - everywhere but my ankle, that is.

My roommate who was with me dashed to get a drink of water - for me, not herself - and I sat, hunched, right there in between flights of stairs hoping I wouldn't have to visit the ER (emergency room - not endoplasmic reticulum; sorry, I've been in lots of biology classes lately). When the haze wore off, we slowly made our way to the car where I remembered I kept an elastic bandage. The ankle did fine supporting weight, but did feel funny, so I wrapped it tightly and took some ibuprofen to handle any swelling until we'd get home.

People who saw my wrapped ankle asked what happened, so I'd tell them I missed the last step and something popped, etc. but my friends suggested I exaggerate the story, like saying I fell down a huge flight of stairs. I suggested I'd rather not lie and make people think I'm a huge klutz... plus I've seen movies where that exact story is the one the battered wife tells so her husband won't really throw her down the stairs. "I'm so clumsy," she says. Since my roommate was the only one with me when I hurt myself, I didn't want to suggest that she is physically abusive...

Over the next week, I kept the ankle wrapped, tried to elevate it whenever possible - I even set a chair by my bed so I could theoretically sleep with the foot raised- iced it once or twice daily and ended up having another roommate who's into massage therapy relieve a bit of the tension.
By then, it didn't hurt as much to walk around campus, so I figured it had healed fine. Great! No need for a doctor appointment.

When I thought about what I wanted to do now that I could walk without wincing again, the first thing that came to mind was start an extreme workout program with my roommates! So that's what I did: exercised at least an hour six days a week for four weeks until yesterday. While we're only 1/3 of the way through the program, my ankle has been sore and swelling every few days this week and I decided to be sure I didn't permanently damage anything in the accident.
I went to the doctor's office on Friday, and amazingly they took me back to the room right away, fifteen minutes before my appointment and when the assistant left, the doctor was in within two minutes. This was good because it gave me less time for reflecting on the first time I sat in that office, when they drew blood and left me there, alone and lightheaded (see similar description above) and then came back and told me I had mononucleosis. [SIDESTORY: some people call mono the "Mormon STD," because it's supposed to be the kissing disease and is more PG-rated than actual venereal diseases. When they told me I had mono, I felt like I had tested positive for HIV (this isn't to laugh at people who have), fearing the ostracized life I would lead and thinking myself some kind of monster.]

Anyway, the doctor poked around at my ankle and foot to decide what exactly needed to be x-rayed and then I got to go back to the little room and sit on a table that looks like something I've seen dead bodies on in TV shows. First, the lady handed me a little lead-filled loincloth to tie over my clothes, because I guess if the radiation goes crazy on me, my brain doesn't matter as much as my pelvic area... I'd never had x-rays taken except for dental purposes, so I guess it was about time to take six of my left foot area and try to catch up the radiation - I can't let my jaw win! I must also make note of the strange feeling that accompanies being positioned and left in a room by a nurse who dashes out and slams the door every little while. This time I felt like a radioactive monster... Also, it was funny that there is no real noise or visible indication that an x-ray is being taken, except that the lady has left the room.

I know the machine worked, though, because after a while of waiting back in my patient's suite, I got to see the images. Doc came in and sat down, holding each one up to the light - so he could see it and I had to lean over. I have some pretty bones, I must say. There were no fractures or anything fishy, so after checking my tendons for tears one last time, the doc called it a sprain, got me set up for some physical therapy and wrote a prescription for an anti-inflammatory - the same kind, in fact, that I was given last December for my mono-swollen spleen. I think my doctor may have some hidden, Naproxen agenda... Oh he also said "no strenuous activity." Of course, I nodded in agreement while inside I said, "Oops. Does 'extreme home fitness' count?"

So it's looking like I'll be taking a break from the workouts for a bit, which is unfortunate because I was enjoying increased fitness. I'm considering doing an altered form of the program for now, avoiding anything that could strain my ankle, but I'm not sure if it's better to do just part of it, or none at all. At least after this Thursday I'll have some sub-extreme ankle workouts to do...