Call Me Twinkletoes

I KNEW I should’ve canceled today for lack of interest. Actually, more like lack of coordination……for in the space of twelve hours, I managed to rear-end a vehicle, fall on my butt in five inches of snow, AND sprain my big toe so severely that I had to go to the urgent care center.

The accident was unavoidable. The driver ahead of me hit some slush and slammed on his brakes, and I had nowhere else to go but right into his back bumper. Unfortunately, when I saw the collision coming, I hit my own brakes so hard that I sprained my right big toe. It hurt so bad I thought the thing was broken. But I was more worried about the immediate situation, which as it turned out, caused not so much as a scratch on either vehicle nor a twinge of pain to any of the occupants (well, except for my foot). The other driver and I exchanged insurance information and went on our merry way, each undoubtedly thinking we’d been extremely lucky.

Of course, irony is seldom if ever lost on me, and it naturally occurred to me that I’d made it through that nightmarish five-hour trip home last week without coming into contact with anything I shouldn’t have…..and now I’d just rear-ended some dude in a shitty little car with expired insurance and the girlfriend in the passenger seat. Wow.

But the festivities were far from over. When I arrived at work, it became immediately apparent that no one had plowed the parking lot, for it was essentially a sea of white with only a few cars scattered throughout. Although the snow was only four or five inches deep, it was still coated with ice courtesy of the freezing rain we’d had on top of the snowstorm, which made for slippery parking at best. I’m getting quite the education in winter driving these days!

Still, I managed to pull into what I estimated was the spot closest to the door—you couldn’t see the lines and there were no other cars in the back—and lugged all my stuff out of the car. Two briefcases and a Thermos. What could go wrong?

I found out when my outraged right foot hit a slick patch of ice and I fell—PLOP—right into the snow.  Two briefcases and a Thermos went flying, along with what was left of my dignity. I fell again when I tried balancing my too-many-hundred pounds on the injured extremity and uttered some choice invective as I flipped back into the cold white wetness. Then, when I finally made it inside the building without further incident, I found out from another surveyor that we weren’t even going out today because of the dangers on the highway. Ya THINK??!

Long story short, the toe continued to get more and more painful, and more and more swollen as the day dragged on. I wound up spending the day watching more training videos. (Maybe I should watch them on my tablet at bedtime…..I’m taking the Vitamin Z again, but still couldn’t sleep for squat last night. Hmmm.) Later in the afternoon, one of my co-workers came in to do some computer work and gave me a couple strips of the athletic tape she keeps in her drawer (along with everything else but the kitchen sink). It was a great idea, because taping the two affected toes together allowed me to ambulate without screaming until I removed it so the doctor could examine them.

Several X-rays and a wheelchair ride later—the urgent-care people insisted—the verdict was in: no visible fractures. Just a really, really bad sprain that will probably take 2-3 weeks to heal up, depending on how much standing and walking I do. In the meantime, I was given a lovely orthopedic shoe to wear, which comes in jet black with sassy Velcro straps and a square toe, and a prescription for Percocet.

And it’s only Monday. ~sigh~



Published by bpnurse

I'm a retired registered nurse and writer who also happens to be street-rat crazy, if the DSM-IV.....oops, 5---is to be believed. I was diagnosed with bipolar I disorder at the age of 55, and am still sorting through the ashes of the flaming garbage pile that my life had become. Here, I'll share the lumps and bumps of a late-life journey toward sanity.... along with some rants, gripes, sour grapes and good old-fashioned whining from time to time. It's not easy being bipolar in a unipolar world; let's figure it out together.

One thought on “Call Me Twinkletoes

  1. Hate to bust your bubble but Percs made me very manic. I know, paradoxical, but hope this doesn’t happen to you! You know also the addictive “qualities,” meanwhile, so sorry for your horrible rotten no-good day! Scared that you didn’t sleep 😦


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