My Ankle

SO, as many of you probably noticed (I hope) I was not here this morning due to perfectly legitimate necessary things. Normally I would just explain to you all individually (why I never post, because I'm just going to TELL you all the story anyway, so honestly that means there's nothing worth telling left, and as such nothing worth posting) but today I'm going to type it up because I didn't see most of you.

Anyway, first I'm going to make the absolutely ridiculous accusation that the entire reason that I have all this injured stuff is because many of you have various health problems and it's clearly rubbing off on me. Completely false, but I thought it was an amusing concept none-the-less.

Anyway, I woke up this morning to Tybalt texting me at which point I promptly told him to stuff it, because I had another hour to sleep and wanted to sleep not talk to him considering we'd get to that later anyways. An hour later my alarm rings and I haul myself out of bed and into clothes so that I could go to the doctors once again. This time he looked at my MRI images (which I am using to bribe my anatomy teacher into being totally fine with me missing his class today) and told me that I was misdiagnosed and did not sprain it but rather managed to tear a tendon in my ankle and badly bruise the bone.

The bone bruising will eventually heal itself but the tendon, unfortunately, already did. The problem here is that because it healed itself while misdiagnosed, it healed badly and if left alone will cause permanent pain and limited extension and flexion for the rest of my life. Somehow, I'm not feeling that. For any of you who know horses, the end result was he gave me the human equivalent of a hock injection (if you don't know horses, which is most of you, you can go look it up or just keep reading) which pretty much meant he stuck a three inch needle through one side of my ankle to hit the tendon and injected fluids.

Now I am not allowed to run/do strenuous or very much physical activity period for three to four days until it kicks in and then I have a four week test period. Either it doesn't work, and we have big problems, it works and that's that, or it works for a little bit and then doesn't at which point I need surgery to scrape off the scar tissue. The surgery itself is minor, but will put me in a brace and on crutches for about four or four and a half months.

YAY. Only not really.

--------

Oh, and I had fun in ippississiMississippi (spelled like that for Tea's benefit) but I'll write about that next post. I would have written about it when I was there, BUT I don't really have internet unless I use mom's computer or fight my older brother for his. So that doesn't happen.

Insert silly accents over the E

I almost died when a person I walked by came up to me claiming to have been kicked out of the gambling place in the poke-universe due to being too good at their games so they thought he was cheating. I found it a funny intro.


And then his named turned out to be Super Nerd Bryant. Well, Super Nerd Bryant's real name. I of course texted him and got a confused response something along the lines of okay, you're a freak, but somehow my brother's dating you and we're friends so whatever floats your boat.



Still, i felt proud knowing I could own his socks. Even if they were the socks of Bryant in the poke-verse.


NOTE: This prompted by the fact i am the proud owner of HeartGold. Yes, I do still play pokemon. Pathetic, I know.