Sprained Ankle

Monday morning I sprained my ankle. You might make the assumption that I did it dancing or doing flying trapeze or even flipping around in acrobatics, but no. It was none of the above. It was just a stroke of bad luck where I stepped off a curb and into a pot hole that I didn't know was there.

The event was so violent that I sat in the street for a good two minutes trying to get my bearings around the pain. It was so extreme that I eventually decided to go to the hospital to make sure it wasn't broken. I knew I would at least need to get crutches so off I went. I had to drive myself to the hospital and that was a bit of a bummer. Actually, it all sucked. It really sucked.

I cried a lot in the ER. Much of it was because of the pain, but a part of it was because I felt very alone. I didn't know who to call to help me in this situation. It didn't help that security was like, "Is there anyone who you can call to move your car to the garage across the street?" I shook my head, "No." There wasn't anyone I wanted there to comfort me.. well, except for Juan, but...

I did end up calling Juan and he did come get me, and he was sweet and all, but eventually he had to go. I'm sad. I miss the days when I had people in my life who would drop whatever they were doing to make sure I was okay and pamper me. Maybe that's immature of me, but that's how was feeling. I wanted to be babied.

I think after massage school, I'll be moving to San Diego. I want to be closer to family I can lean on.