Everything in bed. Oh. My. God.
It all happened last Thursday when I – a good girl, minding my own business – was sitting at the dining room table with my feet propped up on another chair. While leafing through a magazine, suddenly, the phone rang. I leaped up to grab it, and immediately started to hobble; damn, I must have stood up wrong or something. Ignoring the pain in my right heel, I limped around and finished my phone call, convinced I just needed to walk it out.
The day went on as usual, with me favouring one foot as I went about my life. The next morning, I awoke bright and early to tackle the day.
“Huh,” I thought as I climbed out of bed. “My heel still hurts.”
By mid-morning, the entire ankle area had started to swell. Yikes! I had no recollection of spraining my ankle, or twisting it in an ungodly way; just back-of-the-foot pain as I walked around. I decided to ice, elevate and ignore.
Until the next morning (Saturday), when I noticed that my second toe had flared up too. WHAT. THE. HELL. Erring on the side of caution, I booted it to the walk-in clinic, where the doctor diagnosed a pulled Achilles tendon – also known as acute tendinitis.
(As I type this, I’m stretching my leg back and forth to keep the tendon loose.)
He told me to ice it, elevate it, and take Advil every 8 hours to bring down the swelling. I could deal! I know tendon injuries take a while to heal, and thank goodness my line of work allows me to stay off my feet if I need to. I
walked limped away feeling fine about the prognosis.
Except that on Sunday, my left, non-injured foot, had started to hurt. And when I say hurt, I’m talking about 8/10 on the “Holy Hannah” scale of pain. I immediately shrugged it off as pain from transferring all my weight over to the foot for the last three days while I hobbled around. But by Monday morning, when the top of my left foot started to swell, I started to panic. Maybe panic is a strong word. But I did have several WTF moments.
Tuesday morning, bright and early at my doctor’s office. She sent me next door for X-Rays (very handy) and prescribed a potent NSAID for pain and inflammation. She didn’t really have a good guess as to why I had swelling and pain in my left foot – or my right, for that matter, given my very sexy explanation of being injured by “simply standing up, I swear.”
Alas, here I am. Both feet propped up in an attempt to heal the soreness in my left foot from stress, and my right foot from a pulled tendon. Typing on my laptop in a very awkward fashion. Wishing I had never jumped up to get the phone. I can’t even remember who called.
And so, posts this week may be *slightly* staggered as I catch up on some must-see TV and a few good books I’ve been meaning to read. Pray for me, friends.