Kutzier and flukier..

OK, so it was a bad sprain.

But saying "I sprained my ankle" doesn't really sum it up as much as "I broke my ankle" does.

I was coming into work, and me and my boss were parking at the same time. She was ahead of me and went inside. I, on the other hand, was writhing in pain and agony just outside the store. In the 20 or so steps from my car to the front door, I managed to slip on the teensiest patch of ice.

She had to carry me into the store.

And call my Dad to pick me up. (It was my drivin' leg!)

My Dad dropped me off at the hospital, with my brother as my escort. The triage nurse demanded to know why I was crying. And the waiting game began...

He kept trying to get me to eat. I refused. Finally I saw a doctor and got x-rayed.

In the end, it was deemed to be a "bad sprain" and I got me a cast and a cane. Yes, a cane like an old man. Or a really-cool act from vaudeville-days-of-lore. (I used to twirl it when I was feeling up to it.) I also got me 6 weeks off of work.

Me and Bro went outside to wait for Dad to pick us up. I sat on one of those salt-storage bins. When all of a sudden, Bro is shouting, no, frantically SCREAMING

"Veronica!! Veronica??!?! VERONICA??? VeRoNiCa!!!"

And I'm thinking... "What. The. Fuck. Bro. Shut your damn mouth, you're making a scene. Why are you screaming my name like a mad man?"

And that's when I realise. The world is all-of-a-sudden sideways. And I taste something. Salty. And gritty. Its the salt off the sidewalk. And something else.

Iron.
Blood.

Bro helps me to my feet. He is looking at me wide-eyed and aghast. I see the panic in his eyes. And at that moment. My father pulls up.

"What happened?" he is simultaneously furiously angry and frighteningly concerned. And I realize how much he loves me.

Paper towels are produced. I refuse to go back into the hospital. Dad helps me into the car. I keep insisting that I'm fine. And safe in the warm car, I look in the mirror. And that's when I start to cry.

I look like I went 10 rounds in the ring with Hillary Swank (the million dollar baby, herself) And I took a beating of a life time. (I would joke, 'you should see the other guy!' many times before I was healed.)

I chipped my 2 front teeth. (That's right, this winning-smile contains 2 partially fake teeth!)

And I scraped the entire right side of my face. From forehead to cheek to nose. And all the way down to my lips and chin.

Sprained ankle. Cast. Cane. Chipped teeth. Scraped face. Can't walk. Can't work. Can't eat. Pain. Constant pain. And my worry? Will I be cute again?

But I have to be cute. I'm nothing if I'm not cute.

What were my key take-aways from that shenanigan?
1. Pop some pills before going to the hospital. They don't take kindly to it, but guess what triage nurse? I already took 'em, so what ya gonna do about it. Everyone always asks me why I fainted. Uh... probably from the intense pain? And I hadn't eaten all day.
2. Eat. Your body needs food. Even when you don't want it. Just force yourself to eat something, anything.
3. Wear your retainer after your braces come off.
4. If you fail to follow the preceding instruction, and the only way to fix your teeth is to get braces again, and your insurance just won't cover it, get creative! Insurance covers accidental dental. Falling on your face and chipping your 2 front teeth constitutes as an accident. And maybe the fall will knock your teeth back into place. And maybe the new fillers will be nicer than your real set. And, voila!*

5. Twice a day, wash with baby-shampoo, followed by vitamin-e cream. Wards off scarring.

*no insurance fraud was committed in the making of this post.