All is calm, right?

On Friday I had an appointment to see the ankle guy.  When I made the appointment, the scheduler asked if she could send me the various new patient forms to complete by email.  "Sure."  Within ten minutes a link to a web portal and four (!) online forms appeared.  The questions were familiar.  Demographics.  Insurance.  HIPAA.  Medical history.

Ensconced in a comfortable chair, foot nicely elevated, a cup of tea at hand, I methodically ticked off boxes and pulled down dates from menus.  One set of forms, specifically for new patients complaining of ankle and foot problems, were clearly a one-size fits all solution.  Questions about chronic problems were mixed willy-nilly with questions about recent injuries.

So how much trouble had I had in the last four weeks with stairs?  Well, none, until I slipped on a flight of them.  It was all very quantized.  One moment stairs were no trouble at all, the next, they were a (literally) unsurmountable (or descendable) obstacle.  Should I report this as "some trouble with stairs" or "cannot traverse a single step"?  And ladders?  What should I say about my current relationship with ladders?  Just the thought of dragging my booted foot up a ladder makes me quiver.  That would be "no" to ladders.

The funniest question was on the social history:  "Choose the best answer to complete the following sentence:  In the last four weeks, I have felt calm and peaceful...."

All the time
Most of the time
Some of the time
Occasionally
None of the time.

I note that there was no box for "These are the last two weeks of the semester, which are not characterized by 'calm' in my life."  And I couldn't skip the question.  I did have to admit that while my office has looked more like a hurricane hit it, and many of my visitors could hardly be described as calm, I have at least managed to be calmly centered, if not precisely placid.

Even on those suddenly unsurmountable steps....

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The news from the ankle guy is, however, good.  I don't need surgery (cue the angelic chorus); recovery expected to be 100% as long as I work hard at physical therapy (enter cherubim), abraded ankles are healing cleanly.  I will spend some weeks in the boot, then graduate to a brace and PT.  All told, I was lucky.  (Roll the credits, Holy Spirit, for protecting my wrists so that I can continue to write for you;  Guardian angel, who sent the delightful graduate students to my rescue)