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Posts Tagged ‘Injuries’

Dear People Who See Me in Person,

Though there will be only a handful of you over the next couple of weeks, let me answer the inevitable questions now:

  1. Yes, I broke my ankle.
  2. No, it’s not a good story.

I wish I could say I broke it doing something exciting, like glacier hiking in Iceland, cliff diving in Bermuda or rappelling off the Empire State Building (if that could even be a thing).

But no.

I tripped on some uneven pavement and rolled my ankle.

I feel pretty, oh so pretty.

The ligament actually broke the tip off my fibula.

I broke the piggie who ate roast beef a couple of weeks ago. Same foot. My first two broken bones.

I guess if I’m going to damage myself, during a pandemic is as good a time as any. It’s not like I’m going anywhere.

This splint is my sexy new accessory for the next few weeks.

Dr. Peter said the bone will heal in about a month. I asked how long I should try to stay off my foot. He said:

Let pain be your guide.

Isn’t that true for so many things?

Anyway, I’ll be fine.

And also, it’s good to see you.
Beth

*Remember that song?

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Dear Fellow Thrashers**:

Y’all are the best. I joined the volleyball league to meet new people and have fun, and it’s working!

Last night was a little heartbreaking — good volleys but we couldn’t pull through in the clutch.

And right now I hear my other friends gasping in shock. Yes, believe it: I joined a volleyball league. (Waves hands in front of the faces of the passed out; shouts, “Give them some room!”)

Yeah, I know I’m not the sporty one in the family. I’m not particularly coordinated. I’m usually on the sidelines (unless flag football is involved, and then I’m a she devil [Right Chris and Linda?]).

But last night, two out of my three immediate family members came to watch me play. And I had the night of my life.

We still lost all three matches, but it was close, and I don’t care.

I turned as red as Will Ferrell as Lucifer.

I happily iced my arm.

Yes, that is an ice pack shaped like a cherry Life Saver. It fits perfectly on the painful spot on my wrist.

I wore the last bruise like a badge of honor.

Sexy, I know.

And I’m happy. So thanks. Love you all!

See you next week,
Beth

* Thank God for Thursdays

** AKA “Trashers” (We did not pick the name.)

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