So, my Thursday started like any other day. Lots to do at work. Go to Mass. Stop to visit my parents. Eat supper with them. Fracture my foot on my way out the door. The usual routine. Wait . . . . What???
Well, I took the 2nd last step as if I were on the bottom step, and down I went. The irony is, we worry about my parents tripping and falling, and I"m the one who fell! Oops. The doctor says I'm in the boot for now and he wants to see me in 10 days.
Well, that certainly wasn't part of MY plan. I just attended a healing Mass the night BEFORE! Rotten timing. Just another reminder that I'm not in charge :-)!
I'll admit, I have a history of crazy foot injuries. Well, only 2, but they are unique. The time I stepped on a pork chop bone when I was a kid (this is when you gave food bones to your dogs on the farm and they left them all over) and it punctured my shoe and foot and I had to get a tetanus shot. Or the time I sprained both of my ankles at once when I was first out of college, living by myself (I blame my platform shoes). Stairs were especially challenging. Talk about being immobile!