And now for our aerialist

I was going out to take the dog for a walk this morning when my toe caught on the fourth step from the bottom and I went flying down, leaving my foot behind.

It was almost like I had done the yoga Pigeon Pose, except with a big gravity assist and against my will. And with my leg turned out at the knee, not in.

I have never been good at the Pigeon Pose.

After about 5 minutes of sitting on the step going “We’re okay. We’re okay,” as Abbie barked at me to hurry up, I dragged myself back up the stairs and examined the damage. Nothing broken. Sprained ankle. Knee that now makes a weird liquid popping noise. Hurt hip. Hurt shoulder.

I drove Abbie over to the dog daycare and went home to collapse. I cried a little, out of mad frustration. I cursed living upstairs, as I had foreseen something exactly like this happening.

I have learned a few things today.

My condition has a name: Chronic Ankle Instability (thanks, Miss Banshee). I have always had it, but had just assumed I was clumsy. There’s something about a diagnosis that can make you feel just a little better.

The Great British Baking Show is perfect for days like this.

So is hydrocodone and acetominophen. I know, I know. I’m only taking them halfsies at a time, because pain meds tend to hit me hard, but I am so thankful I have them and that they work.

Onward. I know tomorrow is going to hurt more than today. Not looking forward to morning.