This is not my week. Tonight is one of the nights I take care of "Mark", my dying family member, and part of that is walking his dog. I was doing that when I fell and sprained an ankle I've had major surgery on because prior sprains had done so much damage to tendons and ligaments and my opposite kneecap is black and blue and hurts more than the sprain.
The dog was so good and didn't run and was patient as we limped home very slowly. I need to get her a treat.

I'm finally home after a painful drive home (pushing on the gas with the bruised knee hurt a lot) and I have my ankle in the boot I wore after my surgery. I'm glad I kept it. I need to get ice on but I'm resting before I get up and move around more.

Tomorrow I"ll go to urgent care for xrays. I may need to go back to the ortho who did my ankle surgery but that's a scary prospect as the surgery was intense and recovery included 6 weeks of reclined bed rest, 10 weeks in casts, 12 weeks in the boot, 12 weeks in a brace and 24 weeks of PT. I don't want to ever do that again.

This is just not my week. I've spent days waiting for resolution on the breast abnormalities/need for the breast surgeon appointment and now I've made my one favorite thing a day, walking the dogs, impossible for some time. And I'm fairly sure I've added PT to my unwanted medical bills. AND I have to go to urgent care which is undoubtedly germy.

This just feels unreal.