Agony of de Feet

We interrupt this program in order for the author to discuss some of the risks involved in playing the game Murder in the Dark.

Last night, in order to celebrate my roommate's birthday, some of the people in my ward and I gathered at a house (belonging to someone I will refer to as Skater Boy, in order to protect his identity) to play the aforementioned Murder in the Dark.  This version is far more advanced than you might know of: there can be more than one murderer, who kills someone by pretending to slit their throat, and the players can go upstairs as far as the attic, or down into the basement; if they find someone who admits to being dead, then they have to flip on a light and yell "Body!", and everyone comes running, before we hold a trial to determine who the murderer was.  It's kind of like the movie Clue.

Well, in the first round of this particular game, I chose a card marking me as a murderer.  There was at least one other person out there who was also a murderer, so I was hesitant to get close to anyone.  At some point, I was creeping into a corner, and ran into someone.  My knee-jerk reaction was to think, "Oh shoot, it's the other murderer!  Well, he (I suspected it was a he) isn't going to get me!"  So I just ran away, into Skater Boy's living room.  Now, the thing you need to know about his living room is that there's this little step down into it, which the architects somehow thought would be a good idea to have.  In my panic I completely forgot about it, and as I stumbled, I heard-or felt, I'm not sure which-a distinct popping noise in my right ankle, accompanied by mildly agonizing pain.

I crouched there on the floor for several minutes, quietly hissing and trying to collect myself.  Eventually the pain subsided somewhat, and I got up and continued the game, even running up and down flights of stairs a few times (in my defense, I thought it was just some kind of bruising, and therefore nothing serious).  However, by the time the game finally ended and we went home (there were several rounds), I was sure that there was something seriously wrong.  So I talked to one of my other roommates, who is in the nursing program, and therefore useful for this sort of thing, allowing her to inspect the injury.  And guess what?  For what I think is the first time ever, I have succeeded in spraining my ankle!

The outside edge is all swollen, and it hurts to turn it certain directions, much less put weight on it. Rachel (my roommate-I don't know that I need to protect her identity) got me to take ibuprofen to help; loath as I am to resort to medicine, there are times when it is a necessary evil.  Apparently I need to keep taking ibuprofen every 4-6 hours, keep it elevated as much as possible, and maybe put a cold pack on it (though I discovered that hot water also kind of helps alleviate the pain).  I also am going to have some trouble getting to and from campus, unless I can continue to find nice people willing to give me a ride, like I did this morning.  I know it's small potatoes compared to what I could be going through, but it was kind of a lousy ending to what had been a very lousy Monday.