I am in a cast, and not on Broadway...

This is not my foot, but my cast is the same color

I fell down the stairs day yesterday. Carrying a big tub of 'stuff'. I miscounted and stepped out onto what I thought was the landing and encountered only air. In the split second that one knows what is about to happen, after the 'Oh, shit' and the 'This is gonna hurt', I realized that I was heading right into an antique hutch with thin, fragile bubbled glass. You know, the kind of glass that slices tissue and arteries better than a Bovie cauterizing scalpel.

So I made diversionary efforts. I pulled the tub up in front of my face, bent my knees and attempted to 'collapse' straight down and avoid the glass, all the while thinking 'Clamp the spurting artery with your hand, call for help while you can still speak, stay calm, don't move'.

When I hit the floor, I shattered the plastic tub, using it to break my fall. I stayed in a kind of push-up position a moment, then rolled sideways, missing the hutch entirely. I felt a hot pain in my left knee and a sharp piercing pain in my right ankle and foot. Lying there taking stock, I heard, 'Are you alright?', my husband responding to the loud crash. 'I'm not sure yet...' I answered. Then, lying there, I said, 'Bring two ice packs', because I knew I had to begin to dull the pain and stem the swelling. I hurt! But, the hutch was unshattered and I was unbloodied.

I lay there long enough to catch my breath, then got up to walk. Very sore, but doable. I did more work, slowly and carefully, spent the evening icing and elevating the foot, and went to bed. I must have awakened twenty times in response to the pain of having the blankets on my foot and ankle. This morning, I made an appointment to see the orthopedist. Going into the office, I used my son's crutches, lowered to my height, abandoned only a week ago following foot surgery.

Then, the usual. X-rays, examination, then 'You need a cast'. No, I did not just hear that. I have things to do. I have company coming for a week, starting tomorrow! I did not just hear that! There is some mistake! Look at those X-rays again. I have a party scheduled for Friday night, and I am cooking for twenty! No, I call for do-overs!

But, instead, here I am, floundering around with a hunk of fiberglass up to my knee, taking ten minutes to go from my chair to the refrigerator for lemonade. Boxes are still unpacked in the hallway, beds are still unmade, and there is laundry to be folded.

And I have to figure out how to shower and not get my cast wet. Company will be at the airport in two hours. Hell, it'll take me that long to get upstairs.