I took the weekend off from taking care of my parents estate and went back to Austin.  Today I started off with a task list a million miles long – and got a LOT of it accomplished.  Paperwork was turned in, calls were made, uniforms given back to the companies, etc.  One of the last things I wanted to get done today was get boxes from my parents house so I could ship some stuff to my sister.

The last few times we’ve gone into the house, there has been a really yucky feeling each of us would get after about 5 minutes in the place.  Everyone has a different theory on what it was, but all I knew was that I didn’t want to go into the house unprotected.  So as soon as I got in to the house, I started praying that God would protect me while I was in the house and keep anything negative from influencing me.  I talked to him while I went through the rooms I needed to be in, and after a few minutes realized that I wasn’t feeling any bad mojo. At all. Sweet! So I got together some of the stuff I needed, even organized some of the stuff in their bathroom between keep/throw away/sell.

I got the car loaded with some of my sisters inheritance and then ran back in to grab the boxes to pack up for shipping.  I walked out the door, down the steps, and as my right foot touched the stepping stone in the mud, my ankle gave out and POP! twisted it really good.

I fell onto the boxes I was carrying (thankfully they protected me from the mud) and I sat on the ground for a few minutes figuring out if I’d broken it or not.  I finally decided it wasn’t broken, just strained, and made my way to the car, hobbling, with my boxes. 

As I got to the car, I burst out laughing.  I guess I should have asked for protection in the house and outside for about 10 feet around the exterior!!  I just sighed and shook my head.

It’s wrapped up right now, hurts like crazy, is swollen twice the size of the other ankle, has been on ice for a while and is elevated.  I’m up to date with the RICE theory so I should be ok – except the rest part, since Amy comes in from the airport in 2 hours.  My uncle has a pair of crutches, but they’re way too big for me.  I remember my parents had a set at their house – I might try and get them before going to the airport.

I hate to say it could have been worse, but thank God it’s not broken.  Tomorrow I’ll let Amy take care of me and bring me boxes to sort. It will all work out.