Them's the Breaks

If you have ever met me, you would know that I am a very spatially confused person.  I danced for years upon years when I was little.  I can pirouette and do arabesques and balance on one foot.  I can ice skate and my mom used to yell at me for running across icy driveways in sneakers with worn out treads.  I used to play softball and could run on slippery mud no problem.


I am also the child that trips over flat surfaces and stumbles for no reason.

Life motto

Therefore, I am a little impressed that it's taken me this long to break a bone.  I feel like this is something that should've happened a long time ago.And, being the klutz I am, I did it in the most annoyingly un-glorious way possible.


I broke my first bone getting ready for work.

Granted, watching me get ready for work is like watching a sprinter practice their 100 meter dash.  I go back and forth and back and forth and back and forth across my apartment.  Into the kitchen, grab some breakfast, back to the bedroom, find some clothes, back out to the living room, forget what I was doing, back to the bedroom, back to the kitchen, make lunch, back to the bedroom to shove it in my overcrowded purse, to the bathroom to brush teeth, to the hallway to pull out a coat, back to the bedroom to grab my shoes, back to the living room with my purse, back to my room for whatever I forgot that day, and back out to grab my coat and bustle out the door.

People watching me must find it exhausting.

To complicate things, my apartment has a few random hazards thrown in the way.  There are cable wires under the rug that can snag your feet sometimes.  We frequently forget to move laptop power cords from across the doorways from plugging in laptops that are in turn plugged into our TV so we can watch Netflix.  There are three of us in the apartment, so we each forget things and leave them lying around.


All these things could cause me to trip and break something.  Seems legit, right?

WRONG!


So late last week, I was in the middle of running around getting ready for work.  Aaaaaaand I hit a door.  More specifically, I RAN INTO a door.


That wasn't even on my hazards list.

Goddamn did that hurt.  I swore, I stumbled, and I collapsed on the couch thinking that this was the mother of all stubbed toes.  Still cursing, I was holding my foot while simultaneously trying to prop it up.  I decided to timecheck.


Ten minutes before I needed to leave for work.


Yeah.  Those 10 min were gone in a heartbeat and my foot still killed.  Even worse, it was starting to turn an angry red color.  Another 10 min went by before I sent off my first text to my boss, which was along the lines of "Hi there. I need to come in an hour late today. I think I broke my toe.  Thanks, Caitie"


Now instead of running around my apartment, I'm doing the lurching hobble.  I don't quite believe I've broken my toe, but DAMN does it hurt.  I limp into the bathroom for better light and one of my roommates and I start shining all the lights we've got on my foot to see exactly what colors my toe has turned.  It is swelling?  Is it bruised?  Is it at an odd angle?  If we are asking these questions, it might be time to call the doctor.

Ring ring.......

No answer.  Apparently they're closed on Fridays.  Lucky them.  Time to call the insurance for a backup.

Ring ring.......hello?

Well, at least my insurance isn't on vacation.  They send me the info for another place that will see me, and that won't make me pay through the nose.


Timecheck.  Wow, my hour's almost up.  Time to text my boss again.  "Hi again.  I think I need to take the day.  I'm heading to an urgent care center for my potentially broken toe and not sure how long that'll take."


Buzz buzz.  "Feel better and we'll see you on Monday."  Thanks boss.


Did I mention that my foot is still killing me?

Called a cab and had to fill out information with the receptionist.  She was really distracted until she asked why I was coming in.  Apparently broken bones are a bit higher on the list of important things to be seen for.  I literally sat for 5 minutes before someone came to get me.  I have never been seen that fast in my life, even when I was the only one sitting in the doctor's office.


Several minutes worth of x-rays later, I was back sitting in an exam room.  And I get the news: congratulations, you have broken your first bone.  And even more special, your pinky toe is fractured in two places.


Huzzah.

I am given a snazzy new pair of silver crutches that will be my constant companions over the next two weeks.  The nurse tries to teach me how to properly walk on my crutches and lets me give it a try.


One...


Two...

Not only did I fall on step 3, I fell smack onto my broken toe.

As soon as I could do so, I walked out the door.  I called another cab, went home, and spent the rest of the weekend with my foot propped up on various pillows and couch cushions.


And, a few days later, I STILL can't believe I broke my first bone stubbing my toe really really hard on my way out for work.  How stupid.  How classically Caitie.