Yesterday at Tartan Tundra Music studio, where I work giving music lessons to all and sundry, there seemed to be a definite theme: Waiting For Mom.
It was snowing and I supposed the various Moms felt less inclined to leave the warmth of JoAnne or Fred Meyer or wherever it was they were shopping. Meanwhile, back in the studio I was visiting with my students while we waited for their arrival. Which was fine, yesterday. I had enough time between students that a bit of visiting was fun. Normally it's not okay, as I have to continue to teach the next student, rather than visit. Yes, yesterday was definitely an odd day.
So the second-to-the-last student packed up her violin, and I gave her her reward for a great week of good practice. I then sat down in my office chair to do some paperwork. She asked me a question while coming through the practice room door, behind me. I turned a bit, and leaned too far, and the chair started going over! I caught myself with my hand on the floor and slammed my bare feet down to pull the chair back up.
Everything seemed fine, as I was upright again, albeit feeling stupid for falling over, so I laughed and answered her question. The next student arrived and we had a pleasant lesson.
After seeing the last student out the door, I suddenly realized my left foot felt odd. In fact, I couldn't walk on it because it felt like a ping pong ball had suddenly grown between the ball of my foot and the little toe mound. Perplexed and sore, I sat down and looked at the bottom of my foot to find a huge, black hematoma. I tried to walk and found I couldn't. Not on the bottom of my foot. I put my boot on. AAACK! No, that wasn't going to work, I could barely fit it in the boot! I immediately yanked the boot back off again. Ow.
So I put my foot up on the desk for ten minutes and called the ER to see if this was something I should go in for. I was pretty sure it wasn't. I've had a hematoma before and knew that it was a broken blood vessel that would probably take care of itself. Still, I wanted a medical opinion.
Well, you know what they say at the ER. You could have your guts hanging out, and bleeding out your ears and they'd say the same thing. "We cannot give a medical opinion over the telephone. You must decide whether you should come into the Emergency Room or not." So helpful.
Called my friend who is a nurse. No answer. Called her husband, no answer. Called a friend. No answer.
I'd just found the New Theme for the Day! The No One Will Answer The Phone theme!
By this time I figured out that I could walk with my foot tipped up on its heel. VERY gadorky! It looked even better if I crooked my back and talked like Igor.
The dogs were perplexed.
I jammed my foot into my boot (minor OW), got my backpack, and grabbed the dogs leashes. Our next hurdle was descending a huge flight of steep stairs.
I am proud to say that Ole and Sofia not only didn't pull me down the stairs, as they usually do, but they minced down every so slowly and carefully, watching me the entire time. Good dogs! They'd been with me all day and I know they desperately need a good wee.
Since I have an automatic transmission in my car, and the injured foot was the left one, I made it home without incident and got immediately in my bed with my foot elevated, iPad in hand, and watched three episodes of "Monarch of the Glen." By that time the hematoma was down to a manageable size and the day was won!
And I have learned my lesson: use caution when using dangerous furniture! Maybe I should find some kind of Office Chair Safety Seminar? Or better yet, I should give one and charge big bucks. Right?