Pop. Ouch.

It’s funny that Daniel should mention emergency wards in his post this morning, ’cause that’s exactly where I ended up last night. I mentioned in my previous post that I had been having troubles with my foot. Taking the day off on Sunday seemed to do it good and by Monday afternoon it was feeling positively fine so I decided to walk a whole block to send of an invoice. All was going well until I took one step too many and I felt something go pop-pop-pop under my heel. I hobbled home, a two minute stroll took about ten minutes and plonked myself down on the couch.

It ended up feeling so bad I headed off to emergency with Brother-In-Law-Of-The-Year nominee Rob. Two hours, a set of xrays and a pair of crutches (not to mention a swipe of the Mastercard) later I was home with strict instructions to stay off the foot for two days. Now that’s easier said than done when you are the stay at home parent of a bouncing 8 month old. A lot easier said. A whole military like operation has swung in to effect. Local Nana is taking  Bert today, Rae is going to be late for work, Rural Nana is being trained in to town to take over tomorrow and I’m stuck here on the couch; leg up, wireless network on and seven episodes of Battlestar Galactica, season 1, ready to go.

5 Replies to “Pop. Ouch.”

  1. Ouch. Ouch. Shame that, unlike in my “emergency ward” scenario, you can’t just return it and get a replacement foot.

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