so... yesterday morning i was bemoaning going to hawaii with a cast and crutches. well, ladles and jellyspoons, one must be careful what one wishes for, mustn't one?
i saw the specialist yesterday about my ankle. turns out the er doctor completely ignored the radiologist's notes about my x-ray and sort of under-diagnosed my fractured fibula. he said i would need a cast and be on my merry way. oh, no... not me.
in the spirit of never doing anything half-assed, i fractured the fibula at and angle and seem to have torn the ligaments that would have held it in proper alignment - as the bits of bone are displaced from one another by about a millimeter. what does this mean? immediate surgery. tomorrow. surgery tomorrow! i hate surgery! and this surgery is going to leave me with bits of stuff in my body. namely: plates and a screw. yep... i'm going to be permenantly screwed.
oh... and... no hawaii for me! instead - three weeks in bed.