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kafjI fell downstairs on Sunday evening, my slippers proving too slippery by half, and landing in such a way as to cause some damage to my right foot. This was quite painful and I was hopping around the house until bedtime, but thought it merely another instance of my habit of being clumsy and causing myself minor injuries.
I woke at 4am on Monday to find that my foot felt like it was on fire and the weight of the blanket was intolerable. I threw the blanket off, lay in bed for half an hour crying a bit and thinking a) that there was no way I would be able to walk to the station today, and that I was not going to get to work, possibly EVER, certainly not for conference this weekend and oh bugger; b) that this might well be a sprian, but it was not like sprains I have had before, and I have had plenty; c) that Tom had to go to work and my doctor is in Woking and so is the nearest walk-in centre and that means a train too; d) that I was very stupid for not having changed GP, learned to drive, etc, and that I would never be able to go anywhere.
I then told the internet about this, and![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
freddiefraggles suggested NHS Direct - which I had thought about previously, and discarded, because obviously they would tell me to take it to my GP - and so I did that, and they told me to take it to Accident and Emergency. I reported this to the internet also, and Freddie told me to do as I was told, and so I woke Tom up.
Accident and Emergency, as it happens, is considerably more convenient to get to, being in Guildford, and, since it was only 6am at this point, Tom had yet to think about going to work. In fact, he had yet to think about being awake, but he obligingly got used to the idea very swiftly, and drove me there.
It turned out to be a sprain, in a different bit of my foot, and I was sent home to take paracetamol and mess around making piles of cushions to prop it up on.
This morning it felt as if someone was prodding it gently with a fork. This afternoon it's been absolutely fine. Very odd; I've had sprains and strains in the past that hurt far less and that caused me far more trouble.
I am posting this to remind myself that, no matter how silly I feel now, I was right to take it seriously, because at the time it hurt like hell, and e.g. going to work would have been a very bad idea indeed; and that I have extremely caring and sensible friends, and that I was also right to seek help from them.
I woke at 4am on Monday to find that my foot felt like it was on fire and the weight of the blanket was intolerable. I threw the blanket off, lay in bed for half an hour crying a bit and thinking a) that there was no way I would be able to walk to the station today, and that I was not going to get to work, possibly EVER, certainly not for conference this weekend and oh bugger; b) that this might well be a sprian, but it was not like sprains I have had before, and I have had plenty; c) that Tom had to go to work and my doctor is in Woking and so is the nearest walk-in centre and that means a train too; d) that I was very stupid for not having changed GP, learned to drive, etc, and that I would never be able to go anywhere.
I then told the internet about this, and
freddiefraggles suggested NHS Direct - which I had thought about previously, and discarded, because obviously they would tell me to take it to my GP - and so I did that, and they told me to take it to Accident and Emergency. I reported this to the internet also, and Freddie told me to do as I was told, and so I woke Tom up.Accident and Emergency, as it happens, is considerably more convenient to get to, being in Guildford, and, since it was only 6am at this point, Tom had yet to think about going to work. In fact, he had yet to think about being awake, but he obligingly got used to the idea very swiftly, and drove me there.
It turned out to be a sprain, in a different bit of my foot, and I was sent home to take paracetamol and mess around making piles of cushions to prop it up on.
This morning it felt as if someone was prodding it gently with a fork. This afternoon it's been absolutely fine. Very odd; I've had sprains and strains in the past that hurt far less and that caused me far more trouble.
I am posting this to remind myself that, no matter how silly I feel now, I was right to take it seriously, because at the time it hurt like hell, and e.g. going to work would have been a very bad idea indeed; and that I have extremely caring and sensible friends, and that I was also right to seek help from them.
