Well, the video visit is interesting once I figure out how to point the iPad at my bruised foot. Instead of the doc touching my swollen ankle, I get to touch it and tell him what I feel. I have to keep from laughing hysterically at one point because I keep thinking of the scene in Money Heist where the anti-heroes/heroes in their hideout are performing lung surgery, following real-time step-by-step instructions via video feed from from a remote surgeon in Pakistan. I keep wanting to say to my doc, well at least it’s not surgery, but then I would have to spend the whole visit explaining the plot of Money Heist since I really dont think this particular doctor would have seen it. So instead of removing a bullet and part of my lung, the decision here is to take it easy and wait a couple days. If it’s not substantially better then I am to get an X-ray on Wednesday. I’d say it’s somewhat better today, and if it keeps improving I’ll be okay. Hard to know what I’m looking for though, except, as I I understand it, PAIN is the most reliable sign of a broken bone and the pain has been very light from the beginning, so we’re going with sprain.
So, I hobble. I hobble out to the front fence to see the roses that are going crazy, and I hobble to the back and get lost in the poppies. I am so grateful for our garden, for the sun, for the sweet birds.
Last night we were woken up by, of all things, the carbon monoxide detector. Chirp, chirp, chirp. Actually five chirps. After calling the fire department, unplugging the device, removing the battery, we got back to sleep. Not without opening some windows. In the morning it was easier to read the 3-point type that says five chirps means a dead unit. As in, time to throw it out. Or responsibly dispose of it. Which means who knows what anymore. Apparently it would still be announcing its own demise if we hadn’t ripped out the back-up battery. I think there’s some design flaw here, but I’m too fuddled these days to figure anything out.
SIP Day 36. Ankle Day 5.