It was slippery out there on Tuesday morning as I moved the sleds from the van to the garage so I could go grocery shopping. I slipped, I put my left hand out to catch myself and landed on it. OUCH!! I figured it was broken. But denial is a powerful thing. I went grocery shopping one handed. I used the bacon to cool down the wrist. Then tried frozen peas and tater tots. Called Patrick crying. I dislike hospitals, clinics, doctors, etc. etc. BUT I did need to find out if my wrist was broken for THE THIRD TIME!(First time I jumped over a fence at the age of 12. Second time I found my old pogo stick at the age of 21 and took it for a spin.)
A friend called and I heard her voice and started crying again. She dropped everything to come and pick me up and take me in for xrays. Ugh. Sat and waited and waited and sat. Sigh. Felt dizzy and lightheaded and gave the medical assistant named Kyle a hard time by not letting him weigh me.
I saw the xray and WHEW! A bad sprain. Ice and splint and ibuprofen. So far so good except I can't get the Carla proof cap off the ibuprofen.