As most of you who have seen or spoken with me in the past day or two are aware, I'm currently hobbling around on crutches.
I was playing frisbee with the fencing team on Wednesday night. I sort of caught my ankle on someone's knee while I still had way too much sideways momentum (I'm just glad that I didn't take her down, too). The trainer has declared it to be a "low-grade sprain." Since I was not doing terribly well at moving around, the trainer gave me crutches yesterday.
This ankle needs to hurry up and heal. I've only been on crutches for a day, and my wrists are already screaming. (And my arms are sore, and my shoulders all sorts of unhappy. But it's the wrists that are really a problem.) I feel like I've completely lost 70% of my ability to balance. I never want to be on crutches ever again.
It could be worse. To give you an idea of how it's going, I'm willing to use the elevator in Seelye, but not willing to accept rides from Cutter-Z to Park Annex from random strangers (even random strangers in SGA vans).
As sprains go, it isn't really that bad, I don't think. And the ground isn't icy yet. And I hadn't gotten any injuries worse than bruises and the occasional strained muscle in seven years of doing sports; I suppose it's only fair.
But I'm still not at all happy with this development; all the doors on this campus are too heavy (really, does the door to the handicapped bathroom need to weigh 40 pounds?), it takes forever to do anything, and I'm about ready to disinter Olmstead and throttle him for his lovely layout with the progressive realization views and twisty paths and a bajillion miles between everything. Also, the trainer is ridiculously far away (I'm to check in with them every day. The closest I get to the gym is Tyler, and that during my hour for lunch. So I get to hobble about two city blocks and a flight of stairs (yes, there's an elevator, but it's not worth getting to it) when I already feel that I'm doing plenty enough hobbling, thank you kindly).
To borrow a sentiment from Orwell, yes, I'm lucky that it's not worse. But I would have been a lot luckier never to have been injured at all.
In good news, my Metasequoia glyptostroboides seeds sprouted last night. I love seedlings.
I was playing frisbee with the fencing team on Wednesday night. I sort of caught my ankle on someone's knee while I still had way too much sideways momentum (I'm just glad that I didn't take her down, too). The trainer has declared it to be a "low-grade sprain." Since I was not doing terribly well at moving around, the trainer gave me crutches yesterday.
This ankle needs to hurry up and heal. I've only been on crutches for a day, and my wrists are already screaming. (And my arms are sore, and my shoulders all sorts of unhappy. But it's the wrists that are really a problem.) I feel like I've completely lost 70% of my ability to balance. I never want to be on crutches ever again.
It could be worse. To give you an idea of how it's going, I'm willing to use the elevator in Seelye, but not willing to accept rides from Cutter-Z to Park Annex from random strangers (even random strangers in SGA vans).
As sprains go, it isn't really that bad, I don't think. And the ground isn't icy yet. And I hadn't gotten any injuries worse than bruises and the occasional strained muscle in seven years of doing sports; I suppose it's only fair.
But I'm still not at all happy with this development; all the doors on this campus are too heavy (really, does the door to the handicapped bathroom need to weigh 40 pounds?), it takes forever to do anything, and I'm about ready to disinter Olmstead and throttle him for his lovely layout with the progressive realization views and twisty paths and a bajillion miles between everything. Also, the trainer is ridiculously far away (I'm to check in with them every day. The closest I get to the gym is Tyler, and that during my hour for lunch. So I get to hobble about two city blocks and a flight of stairs (yes, there's an elevator, but it's not worth getting to it) when I already feel that I'm doing plenty enough hobbling, thank you kindly).
To borrow a sentiment from Orwell, yes, I'm lucky that it's not worse. But I would have been a lot luckier never to have been injured at all.
In good news, my Metasequoia glyptostroboides seeds sprouted last night. I love seedlings.