|
|
| | Monica Seles and the Ankle of DoomThis past Saturday was the 2nd annual Clarkefest. Initially, that meant about as much to me as it does to you. My questions were very simple: What in the holy heck is a Clarkefest? When in the world was the first annual Clarkefest? Why oh why do these Clarke people feel the need to put unnecessary Es at the end of their name? These are Es that starving children in Africa with names like Ndgu and Krmpf could use and here these Clarkes are flaunting their extra Es around and waving them about inciscriminatly, even being so bold as to host fests that celebrate (read rub in the faces of all us E-less folks) their good E fortune.
Okay, so I knew what Clarkefest was. My sister and brother-in-law, the afformentioned Clarkes, had a big summertime barbeque last summer to celebrate my sister's thirtieth and her completion of grad school. Apparently the patriarch of the Clake clan, who gets very very upset if you pronounce his name Clarkie, Clarkey, or Clarkeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee (which is endless hours of fun at any Clarkefest). Last year's bash was so successful that they decided to make it an annual tradition and give it a festive name (Clarkefest). Personally, I was all for doing it again, but I thought Clarkeeeeeeeeeeeeeepalooza was a much more appealing name, but when I suggested it, I got a look that indicated that I was about to be injured (foreshadow alert).
Fast forward to the event itself, we were playing Monica Seles
volleyball, which is fun whether you're attending a Clarkefest or not. Monica Seles volley ball is a great summertime activity in which you and your most unihibited friends play volleyball and grunt as loudly and violently as you can each and every time you hit the ball. The real fun comes when the shyer party goers join in and feel obligated to let out a little grunt now and again too. When you can get Clarkeeeeeeee friends and family members of all shapes, sizes, and ages to continuously grunt in varying degrees of Monica Seles commitment, you've got yourself a real party.
The real problem with Monica Seles volleyball in a suburban backyard, is when you run into the inevitable pot holes.
Twisted and turned ankles, tweaked knees, and balance impaired tumbles become the norm at Clarkefest, especially as the keg gets closer and closer to bottom. However, this year, the extreme nature of Monica Seles volleyball led to extreme injury.
Late, near the end of the night, I went up to block a spike and landed
in a hole. My right foot kind of folded up underneath and I crumpled to the ground in a heap of ouch. I'm happy to say that I was able to block the ball and score the point for my team, but at great cost. I'm unhappy to say that my fall had more to do with limited athletic ability and bad luck than it did alcohol (I don't drink, so I can't even blame the beer for my clumsyness).
My friend Sue was
there, and lucky for me, she had her nurse hat on. Sue and my wife rushed over to the court and the rest of the players gathered around as I rolled around on the ground. Within seconds my ankle had ceased to be, I officially had a cankle instead. The swelling seemed much worse on the outside, like a big knotty tumor had suddenly been deposited where the little knobby ankle bone used to be. Even so, I thought I'd be back playing in half an hour. I crawled off
the court and sat in a chair for a little while, my foot up on a cooler while I watched it get turned shades of purple that I didn't know existed in nature.
Sue and PlainOleWife got me some ice and a sandwich, both of which were nice, but only one of which did anything to alleviate the pain. After a while though, it stopped throbbing (must've been a better sandwich than I thought). I decided to try and get up, and in a sports loving tough guy moment, I figured I would just "walk it off." I've had a few bad ideas in my day. Stealing the duck crossing sign, that was a bad idea. Hopping on the moving freight train after a night at the bars, that was a bad idea. Telling my old boss that he both looked and smelled like, not only a weasel, but a Downs Syndrome weasel with male pattern baldness, also a bad idea. Getting up out of that chair may have been the worst idea I've ever had. This
pain shot up through my leg, up into my rectum, and launched out the top of
my head and into the sky, like someone was sending the Bat Signal for sports related injuries. Standing up felt as if someone had both stapled my gall bladder to a
porcupine and, at the same time, one of them steam roller operators was savagely beating
me with a garden hoe. I decided not to play any more volleyball and
instead collapsed on the ground in a sobbing heap.
They took me to the emergency room where I watched a hilarious
episode of America's Funniest Videos, a tear jerker of an Andy Griffith
show, and most of a "Scott Baio is 45 and Single" (If I knew that,
perhaps I wouldn't have settled so young.)
After Glenn the X-Ray Tech and I had a very nice conversation that went something like this:
Me - Do you want me to sit up on the table?
Glenn - Put this lead thing on your balls.
Me - That's what she said.
Glenn - Lead thing. Balls.
Me - That's what she said.
Glenn - I lack social graces and a sense of humor.
Me - That's what she said?
The
doctor told me there was no break of fracture, but that I probably did
some pretty major ligament damage. I already had an appointment to see
an orthopedic doctor for my messed up knee, so when I went in there
Wednesday, he told me that I had broken some bone whose name sounded
like "medium mayonaise." I tried to tell him that the ER had told me
there was no break. He said sometimes ERs get it wrong. I said, "like
the time they let a helicopter fall on Dr. Romano?" He looked at me
like one might look at a retarded penguin singing Travis Tritt songs.
Then a very efiminate nursey man put me in a cast. It's
blue. It's itchy. My leg is the temperature of a frying pan full of
boiling lava.
I get this cast off on the 15th, then get a
walking cast. Until then it's going to have to be spectator Monica Seles sports exclusively.
| | | Posted 8/3/2007 12:06 PM - 7 comments
- recommend
  - recs0
- give stars
- votes0
- email
 - sent0
|
|
