Pulling an Amie

I pulled an "Amie" yesterday.

I wasn't necessarily in a rush but I was definitely foggy-brained having to wake up at 7am to make it my work conference. It was still semi-dark outside when I stepped out into the cold. Our back door leads to the sundeck which in turn has several steps of stairs that lead to the sidewalk which takes you to the garage. Anyway, I took one careful step onto the sundeck knowing that it's normally really slippery in the morning when it's frosty. And yes, I could see the frost on the grass.

With my first step onto the sundeck, I thought to myself, Oh, it's not that slippery this morning.

Of course with that thought in mind, the next split second, I was definitely less careful. I turned the key to lock the backdoor, and swung myself around and -

SPLAT!

I flew right off the sundeck and rammed both my feet into the metal gates. It made a huge BANG! Luckily, the gates were closed... or I would have flew straight off the sundeck and down the stairs. (I guess there's a "lucky" in every situation). The next thing I knew, I saw the lights turn on in my neighbour's house. They must have been wondering what that racket was. I rubbed my feet without much care other than, Oh Amie, you did it again, and off I went to my conference.

When the conference was over at 3pm and while walking back to my car, I noticed that my right foot was still throbbing and painful. Hmm, maybe it's worse than I thought it may be. Once I got home, and upon taking off my socks, ... I couldn't. Apparently, the metal gates somehow gave me several big gashes on the top of my feet, and all the lovely blood and juices had glued my feet to my socks. Gross. I know. I ripped off my socks anyway (ouch!) and both my feet looked like someone took a stick and beat the living daylights out of them. Oh great...

As I was limping around the house, trying to find the polysporin and bandaids and such, one of my coworkers (who was also at the conference) texted me to tell me maybe I should go to a walk-in. Just in case... y'know, infections, broken bones, flesh-eating disease... there's a lot that could happen. (I cursed her for freaking me out). I had time before the birthday party that happened later on in the night, so I ended up at a walk-in.

The doc came in and looked at me up and down seemingly trying to find something wrong with me, "So what brings you in?".

"My feet." Apparently, that's all I had to say.

He looked at my feet and said, "Whoa! What happened?!". I thought to myself, it's not that bad is it?

By now, my right foot has swollen twice the size of my left foot. After I told him about my clumsy story, he walked out of the room and came back with a needle. "Looks like I need to give you a tetanus shot." Thank goodness needles don't phase me anymore. I've had so many in the past 10 years... for school, for travelling, and now that I'm also injection-certified myself... so all I said was, "Sure. Go ahead."

He proceeded to clean out all the gashes and examined each one very closely. (I honestly don't remember the last time I had someone's face so close to my feet). He looked at the biggest gash and said, "This one might get infected. Come back immediately if it turns hot and red." I knew the drill.

After a short chit-chat, I was out of there.

And today, the soreness and pain has subsided... but the swelling is definitely still there. Especially after standing over a stove for several hours cooking a nice chili. I look like I have a pig's feet. They are so swollen that the only shoes that fit are my flats. And even those are quite snug. Well, to spare you all, this post will remain photo-free.

Oh, Amie...

(Chili for the next post...)