Pity Me, Party of 2

On Monday night I was volunteering with St. Mary's Food Bank (a very impressive organization) collecting food at Eddie's House, a restaurant run by a local "celebrity chef" type, during their food drive. On a trip across the slick, tinted concrete floor in my darling 2-inch wedges, I lost my footing and totally wiped out. The flat-on-my-back-and-several-people-running-to-help-you-because-you-look-so-awful-wiping-out type of wipe out. In front of an entire restaurant. And the heiress to the Home Depot fortune. And a bunch of NFL sports guys. Did I mention an entire restaurant? I have weak ankles and immediately felt my right one start to throb and swell. I managed to make it home, but that was about it. It looked like I had an orange protruding from my ankle. There is no more walking on this ankle.

After nearly a day of hopping around on one foot, I managed to track down some crutches and I've set up a little nest on the downstairs couch. Swelling in my ankle has started to go down, but it is still really sore. Part of the problem is that I have extremely low pain tolerance. For example:

• I've been known to spend a long time moaning over and nursing paper cuts. And then not use the finger for the rest of the day.
• During college I had a wart burned off my heel. I spent the rest of the entire day in bed with my foot elevated, crocheting, listening to Harry Potter on tape, and begging my roommate to bring me food.
• During graduate school I had a two moles removed, one on my arm and one behind my ear. I had to request more anesthetic halfway through the procedure on my arm (which, it turned out, was a benign tumor and I feel that justifies my pain response - sort of) and I cried through most of the procedure. The poor nurse had to hold my hand and prevent the tears from puddling in my ear. I spent the rest of the day moaning on the coach. Fortunately, my long-suffering roommates were willing to cater to my demands.

Some people ask how I expect to have children. I have three syllables for you: a-dop-tion. Think of all those children in need of a good home.

Given this history, you can imagine how well I dealt with my ankle pain. Which means that I didn't. I was a wreck. Fortunately, it really is starting to feel better and the swelling has gone significantly. Although, seeing as the outside of my ankle looked like someone lodged a baseball in it and now it looks like I have cankles, that doesn't necessarily mean much. Plus, I'm on crutches. I've attached a picture, taken just an hour ago.

Seeing as I'm shamelessly trolling for sympathy, here's another:

Feel free to pity me.