Yesterday I was thankful that I only sprain my ankle every twenty years (both times in the presence of nurses).

I was watering plants in front (not my job, as the HOA have landscape people, but the old ladies are bullies and suckered me into it), and somehow I forgot about one concrete step, down to a concrete walkway, which my knees and ankle rediscovered when I hit the concrete with my ankle at entirely the wrong angle.

After a few minutes of lying there stunned, I had the ability to crawl to my front door (my husband told me later that if I am incapacitated that I ought to scream, except he didn’t quite get that I was barely able to drag myself up the steps to the front door and weakly knock on it until my daughter heard me, saw the blood, then SHE screamed for my husband, and everything was once again right with the world, if by “right with the world” we mean kH instantly iced my ankle, put Tegaderms on all the bleeding parts, and got me settled upstairs while I was somewhat hysterical because I had forgotten how much spraining an ankle fucking hurts.

(I can bear a lot of pain stoically–witness migraines, back pain–but a badly twisted/sprained ankle is apparently not part of that package.)

I was also grateful kH got the blood stains out of my favorite Eileen Fisher skirt.

I was slightly grateful I got a pass on PT today, despite the short notice. Today I was thankful that by the end of the day, after spending it bored to tears with an elevated foot (I didn’t even want to read; that’s how bad my mood was), I could walk relatively normally. It’s maybe twice as big as it ought to be now (improvement).  Last night I was hopping and scooting and crawling (not so much fun on scraped up knees) after everyone else was asleep and I really had to pee.

Screen Shot 2014-07-16 at 10.24.38 PMToday I am grateful that I had an excuse to order hiking boots (mine died a bizarre death) that I’d skipped doing earlier in the week because OMG money. As it turned out Amazon had them significantly cheaper than anywhere else online, so it was a win/win. Nah, they aren’t the cutest things in the world, but who cares? Ankle support.

Whenever someone on gives me props for my very long streak of daily gratitude journal entries, I always think that if they saw what I wrote down, they would probably not be so impressed.