I don’t believe that I’m a particularly accident-prone guy. But I have to finally cede the fact that I have been to the hospital a fair share more times than the average 30 year old. I found my way back to the ER this past Tuesday, when it felt like I snapped my foot off at the ankle during a night of basketball. An unfortunate drive to the hoop and an awkward landing on someone’s foot was all I needed to ruin my evening (and more).
Thank goodness it was only a sprain. Everyone who witnessed it was certain of a break, and I had little reason to dispute their observations. I have never felt such intense pain in my life. It was almost enough to make me give up the game. Almost. Not quite enough, though.
The good news is that it’s only been a week since the injury and I’m walking again. Very little limping going on, except in the morning. The wife says I look like the Tin Man, with my unsightly shuffle-step.
I felt bad that I injured myself only a day before we left for Utah. We tried to make the most of it, keeping our plans intact for the majority of the time. I could do very little to help out; injuring the right foot meant that I couldn't even drive. The best I could do was hold SaraJane when I was being carted around in a wheelchair.
We saw plenty of family and a few friends. There never seems to be enough time to see everyone. I’m sure that if we ran around enough, we could have. But then we’d have needed the “vacation from the vacation” that you hear about so often.
A minor note about the drive home; it seems that a bit more faith in Google Maps might be in order. About 100 miles or so before we reached the normal turnoff to the 20, we decided to try driving through Las Vegas. I had never done it before, but had heard good things about it. Every so often, I would double-check my route on the trusty iPhone, wanting to be sure that I had everything in order.
Each time, Google Maps tried to get me to get myself back to highway 89. Even when I had passed Cedar City, it again tried to get me to rethink my strategy and pull back for the normal route. My wife and I thought the program had gone bananas, and thusly ignored its suggestions.
I should have taken the hint when I finally passed through Las Vegas, and the iPhone informed me that I should hug the Arizona-California border and head home that way. Seemed like an awful waste of time to me. Oh, how wrong we were. Never again will I pass that route. Driving to Mesa from the 93/60 is the worst route imaginable.
Finally, a happy birthday to my newest nephew, Parker Bowden. Parker was born today, weighing in at 6 lb. 13 oz. Welcome to the world, little buddy. You’ve got yourself quite the family to enjoy the journey with.