Yesterday at school, my daughter twisted her ankle during gym class, which she has every day. As the evening progressed, the pain and swelling got worse. As I wrapped it in a bandage, she asked me what shoes she could wear tomorrow, how she could walk on it, and what about gym class. I honestly didn't know, even after being plagued by foot injuries myself and nursing her through a hip and knee injury last year that seemed to last forever. I offered to take her to the doctor's office. They had an appointment open that evening.
As we went to the doctor's office, me with a cane and her with a limp, all we could do was laugh at how pathetic we were hobbling through the office. We both hoped they wouldn't send her to get x-rays, which would require a trip to the hospital. We both laughed at the idea of her hopping hop along behind me while pushing me in my wheelchair. Of course, she did need x-rays, but was a very good sport and went to radiology alone while I and my cane waited in the lobby.
This morning she wrapped her own foot like a pro, went to school on crutches with her backpack on her back (not an easy thing to do), and wore her favorite slippers with socks.