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July 2012



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I fell off a horse on Thursday. More accurately, I flung myself off a horse going about 20 mph to avoid an uncontrolled and potentially much more dangerous fall, potentially under his hooves. Before you shriek about how horrifying this is, consider: I've fallen off well over thirty times in my life, including headfirst and onto rocks. It wasn't a big deal, and I'm actually totally okay except for my ankle. 

My bright-purple, painful, thought-it-was-strained-bu
t-actually-it's-fractured ankle. 

It hurts, but not to a degree that is incapacitating. However, it's a transverse fracture across the medial malleolus (whatever, I don't really know, I'm pretty sure it's your inner ankle bone because that's what Hurts Like Fuck), with 4mm of separation. What that means in English is:holy god, your bone is coming off. Except slightly less theatrical, because it's not like it's really going anywhere. 

However, I do need surgery. This sucks. A lot. It's because it's separated enough that he doesn't know if it will heal together normally. It's a short surgery, only 45 minutes. I'll be in the Wellness Center for a couple days.

Which brings me to the crux of things. 

If you're around (some people tagged aren't), please come visit me? I will be bored out of my mind and in pain, and antsy because APPARENTLY THEY HAVE TO WATCH ME SO I DON'T GET UP AND WANDER ABOUT LIKE PEOPLE WITH ONE GOOD LEG ARE PRONE TO DO, and will need people to, like, play Bananagrams with me or something. Or just chat. My mother is around but I love you all tooooo.

(I'm actually quite a bit more freaked out about this than I'm letting on, but I'm too tired to really get into it right now.)

So. Um. Yeah. That's where I am the next few days. 
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