I have often commented on the propensity of equestrians to injure themselves; it seems to be to be a fairly high-risk activity, to put it mildly. It's not just coincidence that orthopedic surgeons take out full-page ads in the programs for local equestrian events.
Anyhow, this worked to my advantage on Saturday night, when I completely overlooked a small concrete step at the Kennett parking garage and ended up turning my ankle. (No, OF COURSE I was not distracted by the handsomeness of my date. That had nothing to do with it. Silly reader!)
I iced it overnight and on Sunday morning I called my foxhunting pal, who has amassed braces, bandages, and cooling, heating, and massaging devices for every part of the anatomy (most of which she has injured; a mutual friend refers to her as "Calamity Jane"). She was delighted to lend me a lace-up brace from an ankle fracture last season; a wrap-around stretchy ankle brace (I'm wearing it now); and her stiff leather paddock boots, which give great support (and are enormously comfortable). She offered me some veterinary aspirin cream, too, but I drew the line there.
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