the epitome of compassion
The madness of May is finally over. OK, technically this is the last day, but I'm calling it over. My busy, busy month concluded with two days of dance workshops with the amazing Sharon Kihara. And the end result of those workshops was NOT a broken ankle. It's merely a sprained ankle and dislocated knee. Owie.
After getting our butts thoroughly kicked with 9 hours of conditioning, training and technique, my troupe had a private choreography workshop scheduled with Sharon. And approximately 30 minutes into this 3-hour workshop, I found myself sitting on the floor, cradling my leg, screaming "It's my knee!" as people ran around trying to find ice and figure out what to do.
I felt kind of like this, minus the ferret on a waterslide.
But of course, instead of ending the workshop, I laid on the floor with my knee elevated on yoga mats someone found in another studio and watched the rest of the workshop. Afterward, Liz drove me to the emergency medical clinic. By the time we got done there, all the pharmacies in town were closed. Most of them are still closed today because of the holiday. I managed to get my Vicodin filled, but the only open pharmacy doesn't have knee immobilizers. So my dislocated knee is flopping around until Tuesday, apparently.
How does this affect my life? Well, I'm glad I haven't ripped out the bathtub yet, as it looks like I'll be sitting on the floor of it to shower for the foreseeable future. And I probably won't be able to go to Anchorage to see MNB next weekend. Definitely not going to the gym tomorrow. I plan on going in to work for a 9 a.m. meeting, then searching for a damn knee immobilizer and getting a temporary handicapped parking permit.