Bloody feet

It's been eighteen months since I broke my toe by dropping an ipad on it, so I was probably due for more feet-related disasters. So Wednesday morning, as I was running late for a physio appointment, I didn't see a slightly lowered brick in the pavement and rolled my ankle a beauty. Honestly I thought I'd broken it, it was that painful, so let rip with some scorching profanities and dropped elegantly into the gutter. Such a STUPID thing to do, and it always happens when you're racing around with your mind somewhere else, not when you're running 10km or anything you can boast about. Anyway the construction guys across the road gathered my stuff, got me a chair and an ice pack, then I rang the physio and she came down and helped me hobble across the road, then strapped my ankle and we got on with the lymphoedema in my arm, which is what I was actually there for.

This is it yesterday - two days afterwards. Not a bad sprain (I know sprains, thank you thirty years of netball, I think I did an ankle every second year) but sore and swollen and going an interesting shade of purple. Thank heavens for a teenager with driver's license! I still can't drive so he helped my husband with the car shuffle on Wednesday, and has been running himself around ever since. I went to work on Thursday on crutches but it was such a pain I took my laptop home on Friday and worked from the kitchen table. Which was fine, but kind of boring.... the little three-person team I'm in are all in one set of rooms so we just shout at each other when we want something (there's no-one else around) and it's tedious having to email. So this weekend is going to be very quiet, no run, no shopping, no driving ... luckily it's footy finals!!! Beers are in the fridge - how's that for a silver lining.