I finally did it. I hauled my, now a beautiful shade of blue and yellow, ankle into see the lovely sports medicine doctor on Friday. Now I know that I did not hurt it on a field scoring the winning touch down, or even on my daily jog, but rather when I had had too much to drink, but I went to my usual Sports Med Clinic near my office. As I hobbled in, I noticed all the fabulously athletic men and women with legitimate injuries, and noticed also the pit of my stomach falling out as I realized that I would soon be explaining to the lovely doctor while he touched my bare feet that had been in running shoes all day, what had happened. I decided that I would make light of the fact that the vodka just jumped out of the glass and down my throat. That I had nothing to do with it and it really was not my fault.
I waited in the tiny room reading about the man who lived biblically for a year (very odd), when in walked Dr. Cute. Not Dr. Gorgeous as i thought I was seeing, or hoped I was seeing, but Dr. cute. After I explained what happened, both of us laughing and having a right jolly good time, I noticed the glint of a wedding ring touching my foot.
"When did Dr. Cute get married?" I asked.
"A month ago." he replied
"Thank you, it was the most perfect wedding and then we have been away for a month on the most wonderful honeymoon......................" (I started to tone out here)
Anyway after some pocking and prodding, some more laughter, "You are such an optimist" said Dr. Cute to me, an x-ray or 10, a diagnosis was arrived at ................................
the ankle has some torn ligaments. Its ok. 6-8 weeks recovery and an ugly as sin ankle brace.
It's not as bad as Dr. Cute being married to I am sure his absolutely Cute as can be wifey......
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