It's been ten days since I tripped up the concrete stairs on my way to a classroom in another building and banged up my shin. Last night I started thinking "hospital." I hadn't had any trouble walking, but my calf and upper foot had begun to swell again, my foot was turning a deeper purple, and I had been reading all kinds of dire online descriptions of what might be going on and (worse) what might be required to treat it. So I crawled back into bed with a huge ice pack and elevated my foot on two pillows from the guest room. The swelling is considerably reduced today and my entire lower leg has transformed itself into a multitude of colors, so I guess the real healing has finally begun.
And so what did I do today to celebrate? I tried to carry a heavy box out of an office and slammed my forefinger into a file cabinet, with all the weight of the box behind it. Apparently I iced the wrong spot, because now the joint is a deep hue of purple and I'm guessing that by tomorrow morning it won't be bending.
Honestly, you would think I work on the Big Dig in Boston.