So I've sprained my ankle. Again. And I'm miserable. Again.
In an effort to un-do some of our Thanksgiving weekend gluttony, my husband and I went for a quick jog last night, and that's when I rolled my ankle. It's the same ankle I injured two years ago -- I was on crutches and wore a brace for several weeks -- and although it's no where near as bad, it still sucks.
I spent most of the night awake, cursing my fate and wondering why this was happening to me again. But given that today is Thanksgiving in Canada, I've had some time to reflect and realize that I need to stop feeling sorry for myself because of this unfortunate setback.
I'm thankful I can still walk, albeit slowly and with a limp, but without the aid of crutches.
I'm thankful that I have a supportive husband who, it seems like every hour since it happened, has offered to bring me into the ER.
I'm thankful that I've had today off work and have been able to rest my ankle while watching such classics as Scooby Doo and The Cosby Show.
And most of all, I'm thankful that it's not as bad as it was two years ago, because I know first-hand that things can always be much, much worse.