I believe that while I was waxing poetic about what a lovely day I had walking around San Francisco on Sunday, I neglected to mention something that happened to me. In typical me fashion, I was clumsy and I tripped...twice, rolling my ankle both times, causing much pain and quick and embarassed glances at the faces of everyone around me. In not typically me fashion, I actually managed to hurt myself. Of course, I didn't realize it at the time and didn't really notice the extreme pain in my left foot until I got home that evening (and every day since then), and have been hobbling around work for the last three days trying to not to do any more damage than necessary. Anyway, I finally went to the doctor today because the darn thing hurt like the bejesus last night when I was trying to run errands after work and I decided I needed to resolve once and for all what in the heck was going on with my foot. The doctor was pretty nice, not nearly as annoyed as he could have been for having me as a patient. For example, here's a sample of our conversation:
Dr: So, did you notice any swelling when you hurt your foot?
Me: Um, no. Well, I don't think so... I was wearing flipflops all day, so it could've swelled and I wouldn't have really felt it, but no, I don't think so.
Dr: Okay, did you notice any bruising afterward?
Me: No, no bruising.
Dr: Okay, let's look at your other foot to compare them.
Me: (taking other shoe & sock off)
Dr: Hmm....there's swelling and bruising.
Me: Oh, um, yeah. Sorry, I guess I'm kind of unobservant.
The doctor told me that I had sprained my foot, shouldn't have been walking around on it, should've instead been icing it and whatnot, and thereby prohibited me from walking around on it for the next four days. Sweet. Hobbling around in an ace bandage is exactly what I wanted to do this weekend. At least it wasn't as bad as the time I got a really wicked sunburn right before a dermatologist's appointment.