Stay Well This Winter #MinorInjuriesMike

Last Christmas I did something stupid. While attempting to manoeuvre the household’s entire Xmas haul down the stairs in one go (like the absolute hero I am) I slipped on the bottom step (so close!) and managed to badly twist my ankle.

Why is this stupid I hear you cry? Well as my significant other may explain, I was attempting to carry at least three large gift bags, a children’s bike and a My Friend Freddy (balanced somewhere atop said bike) all at once, in order to ‘save time’.

While I navigated the initial steps, it was the last one that was the ‘doozey’. Caught somewhere between relief and overconfidence, I completely lost my footing at the last and that’s when it all came crashing down.

Luckily, from my vantage point underneath the multitude of toys and two wheels, nothing stirred in the house (not even a mouse) and I have to admit to congratulating myself on my ninja-like falling technique. However what I was not celebrating was my increasingly red, angry-looking, foot.

While I was in pain I was fairly confident that I had not broken a bone, but walking was becoming something of a struggle. I soldiered on (again, like the Christmas hero I am) and finally settled for the night, feeling ever so sorry for myself, waiting for Santa to come (obviously).

Christmas Day arrived and while I was as giddy as my own three-year old, the festivities were slightly curtailed as I limped about the house, whimpering ever so slightly and moaning every chance I got. As we hit Boxing Day, my ankle had turned fifty shades of purple and had started to resemble a space hopper I owned as a child #stuffjustgotserious.

Weighing up my options of what to do, I decided I should probably get it looked at. I’d had friends and family tell me that they had been to the Mexborough Montagu Minor Injuries Unit (try saying that three times when you’re on the sherry) with similar things and that the service was fairly quick so I decided to take the plunge.

An hour later I was looked at, prodded (gently) and sent on my merry way. While I was expecting a four hour wait in an increasingly crowded waiting room, what I got was actually a fairly short sit. I got my ankle seen to and reassurance that it would not need to be chopped off. A Christmas miracle.

Remember to Choose Well this Christmas, making use of the right service should you need medical help.