Last night around 8:40 PM I was getting ready to put the clothes in the washer to soak and I picked out a red piece of clothing to ask my mom if it should go with the others. I started to walk fast as my mother followed me and as I put my right foot down the step into the garage, my foot crumpled, twisted sickeningly under me and I fell in a heap on the grassy-green mat underneath the small step in the garage. Sharp, shooting, wild pain. And my mother got mad at me for not being able to do things correctly or something of that sort. Started yelling at me which only made it worse and had me crying, screaming, moaning louder for attention. She left me there by myself, not daring to move. It completely disgusted me -- the way she reacted. I was hurt and upset, emotionally as well as physically. I couldn't believe that she'd think this way -- as if it was my fault that I hurt my foot and possibly done permanent damage. Like I did this to make it more difficult for her. Finally, she came back, throwing me an ice pack and asking if I was okay, more concerned. When I screamed the answer, she got distant and cold again. I moved a little, feeling for the spot on my foot where the ice is needed most. On the right side of the foot, huge bump. Mentioned it to my mom and told her to feel as well, so she reached to do it and realized the serious-ness of the situation. When I tried to get up to sit in a more comfortable place, I couldn't even crawl, much less try to stand up. So I had to kind of slither my way to the chair. Later, it took awhile for me to get situated on the bed, so I could relax and read Bridget Jones's Diary. When I let my foot rest on its side, without moving it, it didn't feel bad so I left it like that when I was on the bed. Finally was able to continue reading the highly entertaining, humourous, sexxy novel.

This morning, I went to church because I do every week and this time, my mother had been signed up for coffee hour along with David to help. It turned out to be a true blessing that he was there. When I got to to the McGowan House, David was there and told me take off my shoes and socks so he could take a look. I was wondering how he'd know anything until he took my foot in his hands and started to gently feel and move it around. That's when I remembered that this young, handsome man is a physical therapist. I relaxed and as he moved and stroked it, he asked if it hurt. For the most part it wasn't too bad, but that bump was still extremely tender as well as the bone along-side it. And if I tried to move my foot left-to-right, I felt a pain [kind of like my muscle was twisted?] and the same thing happened when I tried to straighten or stand on it, even with a little pressure. Anyway, David wrapped my foot with a towel and added ice on top which was fine at first then I felt the pure icy cold-ness of the substance. Ouch. To get my mind off that, David handed me a book about Celebrity Trivia.

He's such a kind, thoughtful man. Demanding, yet sweet and incredibly caring. Not to mention his looks are boyish and oh so cute. On top of him being a physical therapist, he surfs. I've always wanted to learn how to do that and have tried it once before. Yearning to go again. If I were older, say 25 years or so, I would most definitely ... you know, do something with him. Is this not appropriate for me to think about?

Anyway, after church David came to see how I was and he wanted me to try to walk by putting my toes down and taking steps forward instead of hopping. He let me take hold of his hand as I hobbled along for a little bit. After coffee hour, he did this for me so I could go in the car as well.

To the doctor's my mom and I go. First stop, Doctors On Duty. The nurse looked asked me standard questions and took a look, saying on weekends they don't have x-rays so I'd need to go to Community Hospital ER. And she gave me crutches. Crutches! Yea, I need them though. When arriving there, we were registered quickly, but had to wait for over an hour to get the x-ray and seen by a doctor. The time waiting wasn't so bad because we met someone else in the waiting room and had a nice, lively conversation with her.

The bruise on my right side is the "prettiest one I've ever seen" someone said to me. After properly inspecting it, I must agree. It's a delicate shade of light purple-ish on the outside and regular skin color in the middle.

Anyway...

Results are in. The bone in the center of my right foot is broken? No where near where the bruise is located. Doctor told me there was no injury on the part where it's most sore. I don't get it.

I would give much more emotion, but I must get off the computer or else my mom will explode and it will not be fun to live through it.