>My Right Foot
>I broke my foot.
Oh, yes.
I broke my foot. Ghost hunting. How lame is that? Literally?
For my stepdaughter’s 16th birthday party, we rented out a haunted bed and breakfast on Saturday night in Rugby, Tennessee. The inn is supposedly inhabited by a certain Charles Oldfield, who died in Room #2. He’s supposed to be a friendly ghost, but people.
THAT DEAD SUMBITCH PUSHED ME!
How else do you explain the resulting lurch, the ankle turn, the unnatural balance of all my baby-filled-belly weight right on top of my fifth metatarsal bone (otherwise known as the pinkie toe foot bone), which promptly fractured in response?
Okay, so maybe I actually turn my ankle all the time, generally with better results. I prefer to say I was pushed by an unseen hand. It’s sooo much more interesting, don’t you think?
Anyway, I spent the rest of our stay hobbling around like a 95-year-old woman before driving myself (using my broken foot, of course) three hours back to civilization and eventually with Hubs’s help, to an emergency room. After several hours in triage, a doctor informed me that I had a fracture and needed to make an appointment with an orthopaedist like, as soon as possible.
“Did he say whether the bone was displaced?” my doctor dad wanted to know when I told him yesterday on the phone.
“No, he just said it was fractured,” I replied. “I mean, I think he would’ve told me if it were displaced.”
But what if it was? What if it has to be reset? I’m turning green even thinking about that possibility. I’m in a lot of pain as it is- I can’t take much more.
Strike that.
16 just slept through her alarm, so when her ride showed up a little while ago and began pounding on the door, I woke in a panic and jumped out of our high-up-off-the-ground, king-sized bed.
Right onto my broken foot.
Oh. The. Agony. It still hurts, one hour later.
So if you’re considering breaking your foot, let me urge you to rethink it. It totally, totally sucks.
>Yikes! Just the thought makes me cringe. You take care of yourself!
>Sorry to hear about your foot! Maybe your foot will be reason enough to have Hubs wait on you while you sit and heal. 🙂
>I wanna know more about this haunted B&B. Sounds muy interesting.You know, it’s too bad you have that person inside you, otherwise I’d offer consolation for the foot in the form of alcoholic beverages.If you break it again in 6 months or so, I’ll offer again.Hope it feels better soon!
>The worst part is that I got a prescription for Vicodin and I can’t even use it. *sigh*
>And while you’re pregnant! I feel so bad for you right now. I’d lend you my crutches, except I’m 2000 miles from you :)Fill the prescription anyway. You’ll want it at some point after Festus (boy fetus, of course) arrives.
>Ouch on the foot, much sympathy coming your way.Can I help in any way? I could take the Vicodin for you, for example.
>Ouch! I hope you feel better soon.
>Oh, no! Is there anything I can do to help?
>Oh you poor thing! Just thinking of how many times you have to get up to pee when you’re pregnant, and taking care of a toddler too? Good God? Sending you prayers and healing blessings!
>Being pregnant and falling, not a good combination. Hope the foot heals soon so this is great news for Thanksgiving then…everyone will be waiting on you like a princess.
>i’m glad you’re ok! that must’ve not only been painful but a little scary, being pregnant and all..
>Ouch! Sorry to hear about the foot. I broke my foot back in May (not the 5th metatarsal, though). My hubby broke his 5th metatarsal in July, so we both send you fast healing wishes. Stay off the foot – no vacuuming! Ask one of the big girls to do it. I know you hate to sit still, but you’ll hate it even worse if it doesn’t heal properly.
>BAAAAD ghost!!!
>I’ve broken my right foot. In a car accident. I feel your pain. Literally. However, mine wasn’t diagnosed properly for two months, so I required surgery to repair it. It’s fixed, and I can run, though who the hell wants to do that? Ugh.I want to hear more about the ghost hunting. I went last summer to a restaurant/bed and breakfast that’s haunted by the family who owned a brewing company in St. Louis. This was their mansion, and they give ghost tours now, as well as offer rooms as part of the b&b. I tried to talk the friend who went with me into staying in one of the rooms at night, but she refuses. A ghost touched my head. I’m not lying. Here’s the story: http://littlebalddoctors.wordpress.com/2006/05/24/by-the-campfire/I hope you have a speedy recovery.
>Oh that totally blows, L. And worse, you can’t take any of the good painkillers. Oh woman, I totally feel for you. Catch up on tivo.