You know that plan I had to do 12000-15000 steps a day? The one where Theo and I wander around Hipperholme enjoying the spring sunshine? Where we feel the wonderful benefits of increased mobility and a raised pulse? Well I am revising that target to 50. No, not 50000, 50.
Before I explain more you need To know that In Sheffield, where Mrs Afterwards is from, they Occasiondlly use the term ‘wanked’ instead of ‘sprained’. So yesterday when I entered youngest to get me a bag of peas she suspected that I had wanked my ankle.
Now at this juncture let me caution against googling the phrase ‘wanked ankle’ as it will invariably lead down an unpleasant rabbit hole that starts with ‘Bulgarian ankle wank’, meanders to all manner of atrocities involving white ankle socks and not once will it end in a bandaged foot in an elevated position. Well not unless it also involves a dwarf in a gimp suit brandishing two flaming dildos shouting obsceneties about the size of your toes.
And then you’ll need to delete your browsing history.
Anyway, lets leave those Sheffield folk to their weird ways and get back to more medical matters. Dirty bastards.
Turns out that when stepping down into the garden yesterday I went over on my ankle and chipped a bone. After a few minutes of agony on the grass I managed to get inside, took a few ibuprofen and iced it with a bag of peas. About an hour later I took a look thinking it would be a little swollen only to see A half tennis ball sized lump where my ankle used to be.
Anyway, it was off to the hospital and an xray later I was fitted with a boot and told to mostly take it very very easy for 3-6 weeks. All for one little chipped bone.
Guess I’ll need to be particularly careful with what I eat given my mobility will be particularly limited.
Turns out wanking really is bad for you.