What happens when you break your ankle?

Why, you start a blog!

About 3 weeks ago, I fell and fractured my left ankle. Since then, I've been unable to walk on that leg. Translation: LOTS of free time in a La-Z-Boy, with your computer.

Last year, my husband broke his clavicle playing basketball. Now see, if you're going to break a bone, you better have a cool story like that to tell...but I don't. Here are some stories I conjured up in my head to tell folks when they asked:

1.) I was wearing 5 inch stilettos and was on a hot date with my husband when I tripped.
2.) I broke my ankle ice skating at the Galleria.
3.) I broke my leg taking Salsa dancing lessons.
4.) I took my dog walking; he saw a squirrel and darted after it, when I lost control and fell.

I have other scenarios mulling in my head but I will spare you. The problem with the first 3 stories is, for those of you who truly know me, these won’t fly. Scenario #4 is impossible because I don’t even have a dog but so wish I did (more on that another day).

When I told my friend Mica that I fractured my ankle, the first thing she said was, “your clumsiness finally caught up with you!”. Many of my friends were not totally shocked…in fact, some of them said, “I’m surprised this is your first broken bone”.

Ok, so here's the true version. my husband and I were going out for dinner on a Friday night. Our friends Jared & Carrie had been telling us about this wonderful Persian restaurant so we thought we’d give it a shot. Seeing that this place was packed, my husband dropped me off in front so I can get a table, while he looked for parking. As I was walking in, wearing my BORN shoes (yes, I said BORN), my right leg slightly slipped out of the shoe. To catch myself from falling, I put my left leg in front of it (note to self: if you’re going to fall, don’t try to prevent it). My left leg turned inward and I felt a few “cracks”.

So, here I was, in front of this restaurant, on the floor, thinking Lord, right now would be a great time for you to come back. My husband saw me and said “you probably just sprained your ankle”…oh my sweet, sweet husband. I gave him this look like “I KNOW what a sprain is and trust me, this is NOT a sprain”. He helped me in the car and took me to the ER, bless his heart, I love him so much.

The nurse at the ER took one look at my ankle and said, “honey, I don’t need an x-ray to tell you that is broken”. They put a splint on me and sent me home.

The following day, I received this text msg. from my friend Grace: “I am wearing Born shoes. I should watch where I walk”. Haha Grace. Very funny.

p.s. If anyone wears an 8 ½ size shoe and would like a “barely worn” pair of Born shoes, please let me know.