“OK Rusty’s in the club!”

Larson fans anyone? This was the caption for a Gary Larson cartoon of a group of dogs, one of which (Rusty) had just dashed across the street in front of cars to join the others. (Again, who can explain what the brain chooses to retain? This I remember; the name of that client contact I worked with last month, not a clue.)

Anyhoo — I do now feel like I’m in a not-so-elite club for the first time. Why? I sprained my ankle on Saturday. Just stepped down off the deck like I have a million times, landed funny on the stepping stone below, and down I went. I heard the crack so feared the worse, but, nothing broken, not too much pain — only lots of swelling and lovely shades of blue of purple.

But, it was a first. I’ve never hurt myself like that before. Never had to gingerly peel off my shoe and sock and hope no bone was sticking through. Never experienced the injured body at work — instant swelling, a little light-headedness, a little nausea. Never made the requisite trip to the ER for X rays.

But now, now I’m wearing my “air splint” like a badge of honor. “Oh, it’s just a sprain,” I say, as if I’ve been through this many times. “Lots of swelling and black & blue,” I smile as I lift my foot to show people. Inevitably I hear about their own experiences with ankle sprains and strains. I nod knowingly.

Yep, I’m in the club! I’m just hoping it’s a lifetime membership — no regular dues required.

Ah-oh, I only treat left ankles…
                         ~ My ER doctor