So, last night I decided to resume my walking habit, I set out for a 30 minute stroll around 9:30 pm taking 2 ferocious guard dogs along for protection. I made my up and through Drake University before Maddie decided she just had to poop one more time before bed. I dislike poop. So with 2 dog leashes in one hand and a bag of excrement in another I scooted along to a little Carrie Underwood. Around 10:00 pm and 1 1/2 blocks from home I decided it was time to unwind the tangled mess of dog leashes that had accumulated. While performing the last pirouette I came upon a blemish in my path. On my way towards the earth all I could think about was the $100.00 co-pay on emergency room visits. If you have been paying attention to previous blogs, you know that I have paid my share of co-pays the last 2 months, but I digress. As I lay upon the ground, the dogs sniff me to make sure I am still alive and I silently thank the fact that the poop has landed 5 feet away from me and not under me. I decide to sit up and assess the situation. It's broken. The foot is numb and it hurts like hell. I can't remember hearing anything crack or rip because at the moment of impact I was belting out '...dug my key into the side of his pretty little souped up 4 wheel drive, carved my name into his leather seats...' Anyway, I walk quite often. I don't like to exercise and I don't like to run, but walking I enjoy. I got some athletic pants that have pockets and my iPod goes in one and my cell phone in the other. On the this beautiful, clear night - my iPod has flown out of my pocket and is quite near the poop and my cell phone has been left at home. For the first 5 minutes I thought for sure someone would walk by with their dogs. There are so many in the neighborhood, who wouldn't be out on a Sunday night at 10:00 pm? The first 5 minutes were used to contemplate knocking on the door of the house right behind me. There were lots of lights on. As I was turning to face the house, a boy around the age of 8 or 9 comes out. My angel! I ask the angel if his mom or dad are home. No, they are not (shoulder slouch) but we have room mates (smile appears). Oh - great. I ask if one of them would be willing to lend me a cell phone. He says sure and walks back into the house. The next 5 minutes are spent wondering what an 8 year old is doing up at 10:00 pm and wondering where said 8 year old has gone. So as my confidence in my angel is diminishing a bicyclist happens by. I shout out 'Hey, sir, would you happen to have a cell phone?' Remember, I am on the ground, near the street, with 2 dogs who now have greater confidence in their own superiority at 10:15 pm. How dangerous can I look? As he whizzes by he says - 'No, I don't.' Are you kidding? I live in Iowa correct? The midwest? A disgustingly, friendly place? Well, now I am defeated. I am going to have to make it home on my own. My final 5 minutes are spent trying to get to my feet. As I use both dogs as leverage for this feat a glorious Chevy Blazer comes down the street. I flag him down and he generously agrees to let me use his cell phone. While the phone is ringing I am positive that Christopher will not answer an unknown cell phone number. When his voicemail picks up my suspicions are confirmed. As I am trying to figure out what I am going to say on the message - call waiting! Chris is calling the number back! Finally, after all of this, i will get rescued. I ask Christopher to come down 29th and get me. He says "Why?" My first instinct is to cry, but as there is a nice gentleman, who must already think I am a little short of a Happy Meal, standing over me waiting for his phone, I just say 'I fell, please come get me.' The nice gentleman (probably around 20) asks if there is anything else he can do. I say no, my husband will be here in a minute as we just live around the corner. I say thank you very much and he is on his way. While waiting for Christopher to come to my aid I thank the stars in this beautiful night that 1/3 of America is still generous and kind. As for the other 2/3, they must be Republicans and lets hope they don't 'Get out the Vote' this November! :)
Alas, my ankle is not broken. It is however severely sprained. I have not been to a doctor, but have been icing it and resting somewhat. It is hard to stay off of it with 3 kids to chase around. I will take a picture of my ankle when it gets really gross looking with all of the beautiful colors it will turn.
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