It all started yesterday. I was planning to go to the YMCA and it was going to be the first time with a face shield I ordered online. As I was walking from my apartment to the bus stop, my foot landed sideways and I nearly fell. At that point, I thought it was best to cancel the YMCA plans.
I did walk home and soak my foot in cold water. At that point, I was thinking it will calm down and go back to normal soon.
Afterwards, I sat in front of my computer for a few hours and noticed the pain in my foot was getting worse.
It was at a point where I didn't even dare walk on that foot. All the chairs I have in my apartment have wheels and that's the only way I could travel in my home.
I also still had a cane that I had from when I had my first ankle sprain (back in 1998, when I was in aikido class where I landed the wrong way after being thrown by a classmate).
With the foot paint, I couldn't walk myself to a clinic or even the bus stop. So I called 911 for paramedics.
My mind was thinking "I heard people get billed a lot for ambulance rides", "do I have ride with the loud sirens", "would they just stop by, give advice and leave me home?"
They did stop by, asked a bunch of questions, I explained my situation. They said it might not be a good idea to bring me to the hospital due to the increase in coronavirus cases, and that my bones aren't broken. But they did gave me a cold compress packet to apply to my ankle, and they suggested ice treatment, and for me to call my primary care physician the next day. (note: at that point, it was already 6pm)
I did my own ice treatment (apply ice pack to area for circa 20 minutes) and decided it would be best for me to go to sleep earlier than usual.
This morning, I decided to set a teleconference appointment with my primary care doctor. I told her all of what happened. With the webcam, I showed her my foot and she noticed some redness. She asked if I took any medication (Tylenol, and also oxybutinin which was prescribed for overactive bladder). She then suggested I that I stay home a couple days, not stand on my feet, do the ice treatments, and take some Motrin (pain medication with anti-inflammatory effects, unlike Tylenol).
I didn't have Motrin, so I decided to finally try one of those delivery services that got popular during the initial coronavirus shutdown.
Postmates websites wasn't user friendly, so I decided to use Instacart. I ordered my Motrin, and it got delivered in less than 2 hours.
Now, I'm just sitting in front of the computer, typing this as I contemplate living the next few days in "house arrest".
I was supposed to go to the dentist in a few days, coincidentally the same day my parents have their appointment. They promised to pick me up, and they said they had extra crutches. Time will tell if that would work.
Part of me is miserable I have to suffer this in a year that already gone crazy. I was also supposed to start another temp work assignment in a few weeks. Part of me is grateful I still have a shelter (for now), have access to medical services and Instacart. I'm also grateful I already had chairs with wheels so I can go around my apartment without walking.
This is Day 2, only time will tell how fast my recovery will be.
