Saturday, April 30, 2005
i wurt my ankey
Having just told this story to Theresa House, self-proclaimed Reader of the Month and all around fan favorite, I will now share the events of last night with you, my internet family.
After having a really good dinner and five glasses of wine, I went to a bar in Brooklyn to have another drink. I succeeded. So far, it was all coming up Sherman.
When my compadres and I made the trip back to Manhattan, Ethan, Chris, Georgia, Jeremy and Nina wanted to get some french fries. Needing to relieve myself after a fairly heavy dosage of the jamba juice, I searched for the nearest urinal. The french fry place does not have one, so I change tenses and run across the street to Kiev to use theirs.
Jogging quickly across the street, I stumble, triping over a sudden drop in the road. I manage to stay on my feet and think nothing of it...I ignore the "only for customers" sign and use Kiev's restroom.
I join my friends back at the french fry place. They take their food back to jeremy and chris' apartment. Around 2 am, the party breaks up. I have to get my pillow and clothes from my car and will return to the apartment once I have my stuff.
Unfortunately, I forget where my car is, and this takes much longer than expected. I arrive back at their apartment about 40 minutes after I left. I call Chris, but it goes straight to his voice mail. I call Jeremy, but he's long passed out. I ring the buzzer...no answer. Everyone's asleep.
So, I call Nina to beg her to ask if I can crash on her couch, thinking this would probably be a better alternative to waiting outside the apartment or sleeping in my car. I'm still too drunk to drive.
Upon arriving at Nina's place, I immediately crash on her couch and fall asleep for about 30 min.
When I awake, I realize I am in extreme pain. My ankle kills. I try to walk, but need to lean on furniture to move anywhere. After trying to lie back down and writhing in pain, I decide to take a shower, hoping the warm water will help. I get out of the shower at 4:45 am and my ankle feels a bit better. But after lying down for another 30 minutes, my ankle feels even worse. I now can put absolutely no weight on it.
I decide my goal should be to get home, as soon as possible.
It takes me 10 minutes to descend Nina's one flight of stairs (she lives on the second floor). She lives with like 83 people, and none are awake to my knowledge at 5:30 am on a Saturday.
I manage to get outside with some of my stuff...I'm in too much pain to actually look back to see if I have everything. I get outside and hail a cab without moving...fortunately, this is NY, and there are cabs at all times on every block. I get the cab driver to drive directly to my car...and thus begin the most painful hour and a half drive of my life.
I can't put any pressure at all on my right foot and have to use my left foot to brake. Even pushing on the gas is painful. I frequently scream out in pain as I drive from the city through the Holland and to the Turnpike. My cruise control no longer works, so I've got to apply at least a little pressure once on the highway...I can't even move my toes without a jolt of pain.
I finally make it back home at 7 am and immediately take off my shoes and go to sleep. I get about 3 hours of sleep and check my foot...much better! I can now move my toes.
Over the course of the past few hours, it's improved steadily and I can now put some weight on it and walk around without having to hop or lean on walls.
That is all.
After having a really good dinner and five glasses of wine, I went to a bar in Brooklyn to have another drink. I succeeded. So far, it was all coming up Sherman.
When my compadres and I made the trip back to Manhattan, Ethan, Chris, Georgia, Jeremy and Nina wanted to get some french fries. Needing to relieve myself after a fairly heavy dosage of the jamba juice, I searched for the nearest urinal. The french fry place does not have one, so I change tenses and run across the street to Kiev to use theirs.
Jogging quickly across the street, I stumble, triping over a sudden drop in the road. I manage to stay on my feet and think nothing of it...I ignore the "only for customers" sign and use Kiev's restroom.
I join my friends back at the french fry place. They take their food back to jeremy and chris' apartment. Around 2 am, the party breaks up. I have to get my pillow and clothes from my car and will return to the apartment once I have my stuff.
Unfortunately, I forget where my car is, and this takes much longer than expected. I arrive back at their apartment about 40 minutes after I left. I call Chris, but it goes straight to his voice mail. I call Jeremy, but he's long passed out. I ring the buzzer...no answer. Everyone's asleep.
So, I call Nina to beg her to ask if I can crash on her couch, thinking this would probably be a better alternative to waiting outside the apartment or sleeping in my car. I'm still too drunk to drive.
Upon arriving at Nina's place, I immediately crash on her couch and fall asleep for about 30 min.
When I awake, I realize I am in extreme pain. My ankle kills. I try to walk, but need to lean on furniture to move anywhere. After trying to lie back down and writhing in pain, I decide to take a shower, hoping the warm water will help. I get out of the shower at 4:45 am and my ankle feels a bit better. But after lying down for another 30 minutes, my ankle feels even worse. I now can put absolutely no weight on it.
I decide my goal should be to get home, as soon as possible.
It takes me 10 minutes to descend Nina's one flight of stairs (she lives on the second floor). She lives with like 83 people, and none are awake to my knowledge at 5:30 am on a Saturday.
I manage to get outside with some of my stuff...I'm in too much pain to actually look back to see if I have everything. I get outside and hail a cab without moving...fortunately, this is NY, and there are cabs at all times on every block. I get the cab driver to drive directly to my car...and thus begin the most painful hour and a half drive of my life.
I can't put any pressure at all on my right foot and have to use my left foot to brake. Even pushing on the gas is painful. I frequently scream out in pain as I drive from the city through the Holland and to the Turnpike. My cruise control no longer works, so I've got to apply at least a little pressure once on the highway...I can't even move my toes without a jolt of pain.
I finally make it back home at 7 am and immediately take off my shoes and go to sleep. I get about 3 hours of sleep and check my foot...much better! I can now move my toes.
Over the course of the past few hours, it's improved steadily and I can now put some weight on it and walk around without having to hop or lean on walls.
That is all.
Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home
<< Home
