You try to do something nice, and next thing you know, you're in a knee brace and walking with your husband's cane.
I ordered this really wonderful dog bed for Bella. It's thick foam with the egg carton layer and I was hoping to coax her to stretch out on it rather than on the sectional. It came on the delivery truck yesterday, so I opened the packages, unrolled the foam "mattress", and proceeded to add the zippered cover. I think it's perfect for her - or even Carly.
First let me say that I rarely wear shoes or slippers indoors (at home. I'm not a heathen, after all), preferring barefoot or stocking feet. Don't ask why. I just do. The floors were a little chilly today, so I was wearing my slippers.
I carried the dog bed into the living room and placed it in front of the television stand. Then I brought in the dogs to see what I got for them. It was about that time that I rethought the location, and tried to pull it about two feet from the original placement. Somehow, I managed to catch my slipper between the carpet and the dog bed, and I was headed toward the floor. I managed to catch myself on the credenza and it saved me from a spectacular face plant, but not before twisting my good knee in the process.
I threw myself back onto my ottoman and started rubbing my knee as I cursed myself for losing my balance and hurting myself. This was about two hours before work, and I loathe calling in sick, or in this case, injured. I had to suck it up and hop in the shower to get ready to go.
I crated the dogs, hobbled (whimpering) up the stairs and into the shower. After that, I went looking for our stock of braces to pull out the knee brace. On my way out of the room, I grabbed Handsome's occasional use cane. I may have taken took a mild painkiller, too.
I got to the station with time to spare and worked my shift. The only thing I did differently was sat on phone duty rather than stand. I worked my full three hours and then came home.
Here, I thought the dogs would quarrel over who'd get to use the bed, but in spite of my cajoling, neither one of them would settle on it. In the end, Claudette gave it a once over after the girls were kenneled for the night, and decided it was "just right". So much for that good deed. Perhaps the big girls just need to get used to it.
I iced and heated my knee after I got home, and rubbed my trusty castor oil/frankincense mixture on it. I'll likely do the same today. I'm still kicking myself for stumbling. I mean, who actually wants to have a twisted knee? Trust me, if anyone asks you if you'd like such a thing, I suggest you politely decline. It's a bummer.
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Blessings, Donna