I Fall To Pieces...

Life, it would seem, is all about balance. Yesterday, I threw a great party, surrounded by friends and delicious baked goods. Today, life decided to put things into balance, fittingly, by reminding me of the deficiencies of my own vestibular system. The chain of events that unfolded today started off on Friday, when I started to come down with a cold. I was too busy preparing for the cookie exchange to get the proper rest to alleviate my symptoms over the weekend, so I was still feeling poorly enough this morning that I decided to stay home a few extra hours and get some additional sleep before heading in for a day of meetings at work. Clearly, I should have sucked it up and gone into the office on time.

As I was getting ready to leave, I remembered that I had made plans to meet Lauren for a free advance screening of the upcoming movie, The Young Victoria, about the early life of England's Queen Victoria. I had planned on being home that night so that Dad could drop by and pick up his garage door opener, which I had borrowed for my party guests, and which he would be needing the next evening when I was similarly going to be out of the house. I decided to swing by his office and drop off the garage door opener on my way to work, placing me on a bus that I don't normally take to get to work.

I boarded the bus, and as I walked towards the back to take a seat, the driver slammed the accelerator, as CTA drivers are wont to do. There was no handle anywhere nearby for me to grab to steady myself, and with the floor slick with morning precipitation, I went flying through the air, landing on my knees. Two other passengers came to my aid, helping me off the ground and into a chair, and the driver stopped the bus and came back with a cursory offer to call an ambulance. That seemed like somewhat of a disproportionate response, but a quick check under my pant legs (which miraculously survived without tearing), revealed an intense case of road rash in the pattern of the parallel ridges on the bus floor that are supposed to provide traction. I was a bloody mess.

As I disembarked the bus and started walking towards Dad's office, I became aware of the fact that I could barely put any weight on my right foot. I could feel a dull ache all the way down the outside edge of my foot from my ankle to my toes. Not a good sign.

Thankfully, Dad's office was equipped with a first aid kit, and I managed to get myself disinfected, bandaged, and on my way back to work. Throughout the day, my foot and ankle swelled and bruised, as did the skin beneath my torn-up knees. I kept throwing Tylenol at the problem, but it only seemed to take the edge off. At this point, I'm waiting to see how things feel in the morning. If things are just as bad as they are now (or God forbid, worse), I'll have to head to the urgent care center to have my foot assessed. They probably won't tell me anything I don't already know, but at least it will give me some peace of mind. With the way things are at the moment, that might be the only comfort I can hope for.