Ouch!!

POP!!

That's the noise that I and those around me heard tonight during a "just for fun" scrimmage volleyball game after coaching Greta's practice. The noise came from my right ankle.

I immediately knew that I had done something bad. I calmly stood and evaluated the situation. Can it bear weight? Very little, but I'm tough. I took a few ginger steps toward a chair as the sweet volleyball girls rushed to my aid. I stopped before the chair, realizing that my whole body was tingling and darkness was emerging all around me. I knew that the rush of God's wonderful pain killer, adrenaline, was surging through my body. I needed to sit down before I passed out. I sat, took a deep breath and waited for the adrenaline to equalize and do its intended job as I smiled to those hovering around me, explaining that it wasn't good, but I'm going to be ok.

Now, before I go on, let me just take a moment to explain something to you. When it comes to sports, I have two modes: spectator or out-for-blood. It's a problem that I have. Just yesterday, I was at Applebee's with some fellow soccer moms and the jovial conversation quickly turned to one fateful day when the coach of our then eight year old daughters had the brilliant idea to have the girls play the moms for practice. Without going into all the details, I'll just say that two of the girls were bleeding and holding never-used-in-three-years ice packs to injuries I had caused them. I was then banned from all such situations. This very character trait is the reason I am elevating my ankle at this very moment. Back to the story.

I opted to trust God's painkiller to get me home, figuring I had about 15 minutes until sheer and utter agony. My right foot was able to rest on the accelerator peddle just enough to go, but there was no way I could use that foot to brake. My left foot quickly obliged and I made it home to my wonderful husband who quickly got a bucket of ice water for me to soak my ankle. He also provided me with painkillers, blankets and pillows for elevation, then scoured the Internet for the best treatment options. I love him! Then he laughed as I asked him to fetch the camera so that I could document this for you all. Blogs.

After my first icy cold soaking session I thought I was going to die, it hurt so badly! But eventually, after two more 20 minute icings, the diversion of "Don't Forget the Lyrics," and the chocolate chip cookies Greta made for me, the throbbing pain has settled down quite a bit unless I move it in any way.

I don't think it's broken, but I am praying that this won't be a long term ailment. There's places to go and things to be done! But I also appreciate the times when God "pops" in and says, "Hey! Take a load off! Rest in me awhile. It'll be ok." I can do that.

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So that's where I am now, praying that in three weeks, as I walk the plains in Africa, I'll be able to keep up with the rest.

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And, by the way, I hope you all enjoy the excellent view of Freaky Toe. Yes, the second toe of my right foot is unusually short. I have come to accept and even love it. It brings flare and conversation starters whenever I wear my strappy high heels. Thank you Freaky Toe, you've been good to me.