When it rains it pours, I swear.

Yesterday was very good up until round about suppertime.  The steroid nasties are nearly gone, and my mobility has improved, and I opted to walk around at work without my cane.  I did just fine, although I was limping some by late afternoon.  Came home and was in "kitchen stuff" mode and was THAT close to boiling up some whole wheat pasta, when I turned my left ankle under HARD.  Not sure if I heard a pop or it was just the shock to my system, but it didn't sound good.  I fell against the door to my furnace closet and knocked it off the hinges.  Then I started hollering, thinking I had probably broken something.  After a minute or two I was able to get up, not really able to bear weight on it, but I got myself onto my cane, opened the kitchen door, and started yelling for my neighbor Bob.  I started tottering across the yard, then dropped to the ground and started crawling towards Bob's apartment.  Thankfully, he heard me and came right outside, hoisted me up, and got me back in the house.  My first thought was that he needed to drive me to the ER, but when I called the doctor on call at my office, he said it sounded like I should wait for an x-ray at clinic this morning.  In the meantime he instructed me to take ibuprofen and some Percocet (I have a very few pills on hand from surgery two years ago), do ice baths, and prop it up.  So Bob went down the street to get a bag of ice, I called my office to tell them I'd be out today (AGAIN) because I needed to stay off my foot, and then Bob brought me some freshly stewed slow-cooker beef that was out of this world, and I stirred together some corn, beans, salsa, and sour cream that was intended for tacos, and that sufficed for dinner.  After that, I did the ice bath and went to bed, where I fell asleep during the 7th inning or thereabouts.

Damn ankle is swollen up like a goose egg.  I can bear weight, but I have to move v-e-r-y slowly and pay attention to how I place my foot.  I have an appointment for 11:30.  I thought Bob was going to drive me but it turns out that he can't.  I guess I'll take the back roads over there, because driving is going to be dicey at best, seeing as how I'm having trouble bending my ankle.

Oh, this is so much fun.  Not.