This morning I arose at 5:50 a.m. for my morning jog with a few girlfriends. Little did I know this would be my last jog in a long...long time. We were but half a mile from my house when all of a sudden my left foot rolled over on itself and I heard a loud and deep "POP!" I fell to the ground and I knew that my running days were temporarily put on hold. My good friend, Barrow, sprinted back to my house to get her car and came to pick me up. After dropping me off at home, I hobbled into the house yelling for Dave. Quickly he came to my rescue!
We rushed to Mom and Dad's house to grab a pair of tattered crutches that were too short but did the job. Not only was my foot throbbing but I felt super goofy hopping to and fro! The medical clinic (aka. "doc-in-the-box") took a few x-rays and concluded that my 5th metatarsal was BROKEN! The doctor proclaimed that it was a "
beautiful break," and such a "
gorgeous fracture."
Our next stop was to our orthopedic surgeon, Dr. Cowley, who preformed numerous operations on Mom, Hiliary and John. The first thing the doctor did was smash his index finger into the swollen golf ball on my foot....uh....OUCH!
The Verdict: I am to wear a hard cast (up to my knee) for 4 weeks. Then 4 to 8 weeks in a removal boot---so basically 3 months of inactivity.
I opted for a black cast but Mom blurted out "That's morbid!" so I chose the color blue instead, which I regret. I told Mom I wish I had stayed with the black color and with a straight face she said, "You should have put your foot down!" Ha, thanks Mom! :)
