Ok, so I’ve got the broken foot. And my boss offered two weeks ago to move me downstairs, and I said “No”. Didn’t want to work downstairs. Have things just the way I like em where I’m at. So, this afternoon, I fall down the stairs. Not like tumbling head over heels falling, but missing the step falling. And of course, I hurt my foot. The big one. So I’m in pain, freaking out that I made it worse. I email Will, so he can freak out, too. I call the doctor, and their office closes early Friday afternoons, so I page him. My boss is freaking now, too. He’s ready to drive me to the ER. The doc calls back and said that I should go home, put my foot on ice, and watch it. If it swells up like crazy, go to the ER. If not, come see him first thing Monday morning for new x-rays. So I came home, put my foot up, took a horsepill and passed out. I’m concious again, but very tender. Apparently I also hit my butt and elbow, but I think they’ll recover.
Woe is me.