OuchI never told you about Eli's birthday party, or rather, how I managed to blow up my foot at Eli's birthday party.
We had the party at Pump It Up, which is one of those giant inflatables warehouses that seemed to have sprung up every two blocks down here. We went into the first room and there were three inflatable to play on. Normally, I do more watching than playing--I save my energy for the inflatable basketball court, where I temporarily gain a 40 inch vertical leap-- but this time, I decided to play for the duration.
The biggest inflatable in the first room was a slide shaped like a giant right triangle. The hypotenuse faced us, and you climbed up the left side of the hypotenuse, then slid down on the right. There was also a thick (12”) red mat covering the floor, pushed against the inflatable, which was where the kids tumbled out after sliding. This mat was also where you stepped from to start climbing.
This mat, theoretically, should be pushed up right against the inflatable so that there's no gap between the two. This time, though, the mat had slid back about 6 inches, and as I ran on the mat, my foot found the gap. The top of my foot hit a few inches below the front edge of the inflatable and kept going forward.
The shape my foot assumed was this: >.
In a word: OW.
I didn't know my foot could bend in that shape, because it wasn't my toes bending under-- it felt like it was the front half of my foot. It felt like a grenade going off, and my first thought was that it was broken. My second thought was that this was every bit as lame as Ultra- Competitive Ex-High School Athlete Who Tears His Hamstring At The Company Softball Game Guy.
Of course, I said nothing. I figured if it was already broken, I might as well enjoy myself, so I just kept going, even though it hurt like hell and I couldn’t keep from limping.
The party was on a Saturday, so on Monday morning, I was at the doctor’s office. He said he suspected that nothing was broken, because it would have been black and blue (even though I’ve broken a metatarsal before and there was no discoloration whatsoever). So his diagnosis was strained or torn ligaments/tendons, and he said it should get better on its own if I took it easy.
Fortunately, it’s the left foot. I swim to stay fit, so no interruption there. I drive with my right foot. I play the kick pedal in Rock Band with my right foot. So if I had to wreck a foot, the left foot is the premium selection.
Today, since the foot hasn’t gotten better at all (eleven days later), I went to see my physical therapist. She’s the Einstein of physical therapists (seriously—she’s completely brilliant), and in about fifteen minutes, she told me that I’d either broken the metatarsal under the middle toe or torn scar tissue from a surgery I’d had several years ago to remove a diseased nerve.
Man, if that was scar tissue tearing, damn! I had no idea it could hurt that much.So I’m gimping around right now, but like I said, if it had been the right foot, it would have been a disaster.
Oh, and I will not be playing softball at the company picnic—ever.