For those of you who are not Lost fans, the above quote was a frequent declaration of the character John Locke. I was feeling a little bit like Locke this morning as I stayed home from my usual Monday morning Group Power class.
My ankle feels fine now, which is amazing to me given how intensely it hurt on Friday. Its a commonly held belief in my family that we all inherited a freakisly high tolerance for pain. Stories abound within the family of relatives refusing to go to the hospital despite serious illnesses and injuries, refusing totally normal pain meds, and not realizing they have serious health problems because they swear they feel fine. I'm no exception. It takes a lot to get me to go to a doctor. Yet, I came very close to actually calling an ambulance on Friday. That's how much the ankle hurt.
After a weekend of rest, ice, compression, and elevation, it feels like things are back to normal. My better judgement convinced me not to cancel my orthopedist appointment tomorrow morning and to stay off of it until after I see the doctor. This morning, though, my better judgement had a major shouting match with the more reckless part of me that wanted to go ahead with my normal exercise routine. I think its a fact of human nature that, even with tasks we usually have to talk ourselves into (aka: working out), being told we can't do them makes us want to do them more than anything.
I stayed home, so I'm hoping I'll be rewarded tomorrow with good news from the orthopedist. Wish me luck!
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