So, as I mentioned earlier, I had an accident this afternoon.
Some background: The office block where I work is having lots of work done, it’s been going on for more than twelve months now. The big thing is a completely new entrance to the building. The two old entrances will flank the new one. They’ve done new floors, new decor, everything.

Including refitting the lifts. Now, they started refitting the lifts about six weeks ago. Since that time, there has been only one lift working at anyone time. My office is on the eighth floor (that’s the ninth to the rest of the world).

Unfortunately, there are more than 2,500 people on ten floors just on this side of the building. You can end up waiting over ten minutes for a lift. So whilst I’ll wait as long as it takes to go up, I’ve taken to using the stairs to go down.

And given that walking down stairs is boring, and slow, and not very taxing, I run down them. Two at a time. Jogging along the interconnecting bits. That’s when it happened.

I’ve run down from the eighth floor on my way for a smoke. I’m coming round the corner on the third, and I turned my ankle. Badly. Sprawled on the floor, swearing. Feeling nauseous. So, I drag myself to my feet, test the ankle with my weight, and it hurts! What to do?

Call the lift, wait, hobble in, go down. Because maybe some fresh air and a cigarette will help take the nausea away. It does. Ok, so back up to the office in the lift (didn’t have to wait this time). Hobble to my desk and back to work. No, nobody has noticed at all! I find some painkillers in my bag and take a couple, maybe it’ll help.

At last Ali notices my wincing and discomfort. I explain what’s happened and he offers to go and get some ice for me. Thanks Ali!

The ankle has started to swell now. The ice helps. As do the pain killers which are starting to kick in. But, I soldier on, handling the crises as they happen.

Finally I get to go home. By this time a few people have noticed me limping, and Matt offers me his place in the crowded lift. Thanks Matt!

Down on the ground floor, Tessa offers to take me to the train station in her fella’s car. Thanks Tessa!

I phone Jan to tell her what has happened and ask her to pick me up in the car at Stockport station. I manage to get on a train and get a seat, good. It’s not hurting so much now but those train steps are high! Eight minutes after the train has supposed to have left, an announcement says people going to Stockport would be better getting on another train because this one is broken, or waiting for a driver or something. Right! Hobble off one train, across the platform and on to another. Crowded, no seats.

Eventually I get to Stockport, meet up with Jan and Jamie and get home. THanks Jan! I manage to get my shoe off (which has started to feel decidedly tight) and put my foot up in the lounge. The swelling is quite isolated and if I keep my weight off it doesn’t hurt.

After Jamie went to bed, I actually watched some TV. For a whole hour and a half! But at least my ankle has stopped hurting.

Bored now. So I’m back in front of my PC. I don’t think anything serious has been damaged. I’ll probably be back in work tomorrow.


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