So… yesterday I played in our third baseball game, a scrimmage with the Grizzlies.. In my first at-bat, I walked, and was then batted over to second on a fielder’s choice (avoiding the double play, I slid hard into second). So far so good.
I took a good sized lead-off from second, saw the catcher bobble a pitch, and I took off towards third. I saw out of the corner of my eye that the catcher had quickly gotten control of the ball so there was gonna be a play at the bag, so I ran hard, and slid hard into third base, just under the tag..
Then I heard a disgusting CRUNCH. Uh oh. Not good. I look down, pick up my leg, and my foot is hanging kind of down and to the left — I get that sinking feeling in my stomach that I’ve just done something really bad to myself. Crap. It didn’t really hurt that much though. It was just the sound and the realization that you’ve done something really bad to yourself that was the sucky part.
So my teammate Bruce drives me over to the hospital, where I’m hoping that I’ve only just sprained my ankle. We go into the ER, which is empty and everyone seems incredibly calm and relaxed — I guess real world ERs aren’t crazy and dramatic places like they are on TV. Like, nobody really seemed to be in a rush like they seem like on TV, but maybe that’s a good thing. They were calm and friendly and just kind of progressed about their tasks like it was their everyday job. Oh wait, it IS their everyday job. I suppose if they ran around like crazy people like they do on TV they’d go crazy and stick themselves with needles in all of the panic and stuff. And I suppose the calm ER doesn’t make for good television.
Anyway, the ankle is swelling up quite a bit, which is a bad sign, but when the doctor takes an initial look, she doesn’t seem to feel anything broken… good good.. there’s hope. I’m in good spirits and take a pic of my swollen ankle (it looks really gross, so don’t click over unless you’re cool with that).
But, we need to be sure, so off to the xray I go…
Yah.. so, I guess that’s not how a healthy ankle should look. I hear mumblings that it’s maybe just dislocated, and that makes me happy.. and then I hear that the emergency room doctor needs to get a second opinion. Uh oh.
And then two doctors come into my room with somber looks on their faces. My heart sinks.
“Yes, it’s broken.”
Crap. And, there’s more — I need to go in today to get surgery to put pins and screws into my ankle so that it’s sufficiently stablized during the healing process. Hooray. Oh, and my ankle was still dislocated, so they needed to pop it back into place. The nice doctor asks me if I’d like some drugs for the pain while they pop it back, and at that point, I’m like hells yah I want some drugs… So, the friendly nurse pushes in the happy drugs.. Weeeeee. I don’t really remember what really happened next, except the room looked really wobbly and the doctor said to relax so I did. My body felt like jello. Ooopy goopey jello. Wee. Where am I?
I kind of come to and there’s a cast around my ankle now, which is getting really hot from the plaster setting. The warmth feels nice around my poor ankle, and the happy drugs are starting to wear off, so the pain is coming back. Not so good.
So yah.. now I’m resting at home (hooray Percocet!) before I head back into the hospital for the surgery.
Yah.. so that was my Sunday.. Woo.. Apparently Coco Crisp also broke a bone while stealing third base yesterday. He broke his left ring finger but apparently he’s still gonna play in the season home opener. Yah, there’s no need for me to play on this broken ankle, and luckily I can still work (thank goodness the commute isn’t that bad). Granted, living in a 3-story place isn’t the most ideal of situations, but I have been thinking about getting a mini fridge for my room for awhile…
So.. no more dancing for me for a few months. Looks like I’ll have to be like Lisa from Saved by the Bell and just dance “The Sprain“. I really just hope I didn’t do anything permanently bad to myself. Apparently I’m 30 now and not “young” anymore or something.