"This is how I'm going to die when I'm 80. Or maybe today."

This morning, I was leaving my house and trying to get the truck fob to work in the driveway when I stepped funny and my left ankle said, "Haha, good joke, bye!" as it let out a snap and stopped bearing my weight quite suddenly. I fell, yelling and swearing, things clattering about. After lying there in blinding pain for a moment, I had the following thoughts in succession:

• I'm going to throw up.

• Did I break my laptop?

• Is Royal coming, did he hear me?

• Where is my phone?

Eyes open, the searing whiteness turned out not to be the tunnel of death coming for me but the sun, which is something as a lab-dwelling Oregonian I manage to forget about until I’m outside covered in SPF 50+ for an hour with my kid and still get burned. No bones sticking out of my skin or blood, a relief. Palms and knee a little skinned but I didn’t tear my Snag tights, proving once again that whatever they make their stuff out of is magic and Teflon. I was nauseous but figured I could avoid throwing up. Laptop did not appear broken. No signs of life from the house, so Royal hadn’t heard me screaming JESUS CORN or whatever nonsense erupted from my terrified mouth. If my ankle could have made a noise it probably would have brought him, though. I tried to find my phone to call him, but no phone. I’d left it inside.

Brain now able to finish with the immediate analysis, it popped up the next most helpful thing, “This is how the elderly die in the winter.” My life flashed before my eyes. I was going to die out here between our two cars, inches from help, from hypothermia and starvation on this sunny June Portland day, my frail body that had been so healthy and hale moments ago bouncing out the door now just a shell destined for the entropy awaiting us all at the end of the long joke of life. Wheezing haaaaaa.

My brain’s next concern: “Will one of the neighbor’s feral-ass cats eat me?” Probably, I answered. Highly likely. My bones would be picked clean by dinner.

Despite all odds and against the will of the universe to let myself become feline fodder, I leveraged myself up and hobbled in the house to get my phone and also ask my husband why he did not SENSE my distress and come to my aid, I could have DIED from EXPOSURE. He immediately leapt into action to check me out and give me kisses, so he is forgiven. Hudson looked on in sleepy concern and finally said, “Oh. Mama has hurts? You have a booboo?” I said yes, and then I got many kisses to my ankle and knee and hands, which all helped but did not suddenly miraculously heal me and this I find deeply unfair.

I popped 600mg of ibuprofen, regathered my belongings, and drove to work. Getting out of the car I realized I had a bit of a problem that might require some reworking of my day: my ankle didn’t want to support my weight fully. I was able to walk, so I suspect it’s not broken, but it took me 10 minutes to hobble my way to the doors with my arms full of purse and gig bag because I agreed to emcee at Science on Tap last night when the scheduled emcee had to pull out. My plan had been to finish reading the microchips from yesterday’s experiment this morning, walk across the Skybridge and campus to get them to the tech who needed them for today, write in my office, meet with a colleague for a coffee walk and talk, learn how to set up my course from the former course director of Human Physiology since I’m taking it over this fall, walk back here to read today’s microchips, and then get changed for the gig. Maybe even divebomb Evoke on the way if traffic wasn’t too bad for my free Wine Club flight. Run around the venue like a mad baboon for two hours running a delightful science show. Drive home from Vancouver.

With a busted ankle, I could see my plan needed some revising. Enter my faithful and badass technician, who took one look at my ankle and said, “I’m running your stuff over, and you’re not meeting with anyone today. Elevate. We have lab ice packs. Go go go.” He’s the best. He made two trips to get materials back and forth all the way across campus. Meanwhile, my mentor, an MD (and an MA, a story for another time about how badass he is) came by and not only was able to check me out, he had the EXACT SAME INJURY from tripping in a field not long ago and had all the wraps and topicals on hand. I also learned about the Ottawa Rules for determining whether someone needs an x-ray for the foot or ankle which was very helpful because they help reduce the number of unnecessary x-rays for these injuries! I don’t meet the Ottawa Rules so it’s probably not broken, just a stupid sprain. I also learned that I was wrapping my ankle all wrong so I got a first aid lesson, too. These are necessary skills I will have to learn with my ever increasing age and corresponding propensity to fall and break things, as we discussed in my randomized control trials class last night. So many clinical trials to try to prevent falls and breaks and getting eaten by your neighbor’s “oh, they’re just itching to be outside so I let them out to howl and box raccoons and tree rats all night like this isn’t a neighborhood but some kind of Animal Fight Club” cats.

He gave me an ointment (prefaced with, “Are you all right with non-traditional healing remedies?” and I was positive he was either going to come back with needles or singing bowls or coconut oil and I would have been cool with any of it) called Traumeel that his baseball playing family swears by for preventing welts and bruises after getting hit by flying balls or twisting limbs while sliding. It’s loaded with arnica and aconitum and other things, so it definitely helps with the sting. Doc says rest and elevation, 3-5 days. I think I’ll be lucky to get 3-5 hours with Huddy McBeans, but I’ll do what I can. Best of all, he didn’t charge me a co-pay for coming down the hall. (He’s a VA doc, so he’s definitely out of network.)

Anyway, if you’d like to come reassure me that I don’t need to get a Life Alert yet, you can find me at the Kiggins Theater in Vancouver tonight for Science on Tap. Doors at 6, trivia starts at 7. Trivia is short and free, and those getting the most questions right win a FREE PINT GLASS. There’s libations a-plenty and the speaker tonight is Dr. Agustin Fuentes from Princeton who will be addressing the topic of his new book, “Sex is a Spectrum: The Biological Limits of the Binary.” Come learn something new and have a beer, too!

Here’s my ankle, all swaddled like the fragile little baby it is. Send chocolate and healing thoughts.