Long story short, I now have a sweet cane and a pimp walk.  (You ever notice how that always comes after a long, often boring, story?  Well I decided it should go up front.  Feel free to read on if you want the long version).

I’m playing soccer last night, and there’s a guy getting ready to take a shot on goal.  I decide that it’s important that I block this shot, as it could lead to them scoring.  So I run over and stick out my foot, blocking the shot.  Well the ball causes my foot to turn, and when it hits the ground, I roll it like a rapper rolls on dubs.

After a brief moment on the ground in pain, I get up and head to the bench where I try to bend it for flexibility.  Everything seems to be ok, so naturally I decide I’m good to go back in the game (“Put me in coach, I’m ready to play…”).  Fast forward to after the game ends (we lose 7-5, not bad considering we played the #1 team and only had 2 subs), and I check my ankle.  It’s certainly still a little sore, and swollen to the size of an acorn or so, but not bad.

Well I get home and go to bed last night, and wake up this morning.  I check my ankle and it’s suddenly ballooned to the size of a baseball.  Now this may not seem that big, but when your ankles are skinny as mine, it looks like a Star Jones cankle on my leg (though not black, but reddish).

So I call up a nurse (“Helloooooooo Nurse” – anyone know what that’s from?), and do a little phone diagnostic.  We determine that is likely not broken (I can move my toes), but rather a bad sprain.  The treatment: RICE.  If I turn Asian, eat a lot of rice, then I become skinnier and won’t put as much weight on …. Ok, for real: Rest, Ice, Compress, Elevate.

Now that would be all fine and dandy to do if I didn’t have that little thing called “work” to do, and since I had some in-person meetings today, I didn’t really have the option to stay home.  Well I didn’t want to ignore the “rest” part, so I decided I’d pick up a crutch to help aid in my walking (more of a precaution, Mom, I don’t need to go the hospital).  Fortunately (not a typo) Wal-Mart did not carry crutches, so I had to go with a sweet cane.

And there you have it, the reason “I now have a sweet cane and a pimp walk.”