In my 40th birthday card my brother kindly pointed out that it was all down hill from here.  The aches and pains of ageing were going to start from that day.  Tee hee, thanks bro’,  I thought and put the card on display with my other cards.

Don’t you just hate it when your brother is right?  Everything he said has come true.  There is no doubt that in recent years that the body doesn’t bend in ways it used to and recovery takes longer than it ever did. I’ve come to live with the daily creak and the aches that come in the morning when there’s been a day of vigorous physical activity.  I have otherwise been fit as a fiddle and no serious injuries or accidents to speak of.

Until today.

Today I was strolling along with the dogs in Tunnel Gully and all of a sudden my ageing ankle gave way in that agonising roll of the foot that takes your breath away and bring tears to your eyes.  I wasn’t running, hooning, falling over dogs, taking pictures or anything else that caused a distraction.  My ankle just decided it was tired of staying in it’s upright position and took a tumble.

After a few seconds I regained my composure and carried on walking.  Albeit a little gingerly, cursing my body and praising my walking boot.  By the time I got home the true horror of what happened came to life. I’ll spare you the details and any photographs but let’s just say that my right ankle was a lot larger than it should have been.

My girl guide first aid came into use so with a pack of ageing frozen chorizo sausages languishing at the back of the freezer and tea towel I aimed to reduce the swelling.  Elevated the foot and took a short rest until I needed to head off to town to work.  The miracles of pain killers and a most helpful bus service meant I was able to get around town OK.

By the end of the day the body was doing it’s usual thing except this time the ankle was playing a technicolour tune of bruising as well.  No need to worry folks I’m OK just a bit sore and have a puffy ankle which I’ve wrapped up nicely to keep it warm and give it a bit more support. Good job it’s still warm enough to wear jandles (the kiwi flip flop).

The down side of all of this is that there is now no excuse that I can’t get the ironing done.  Mowing lawns, cutting gorse and painting the chicken coop are off the agenda for a few days.  So is dog walking and you can imagine what the bassets think of that.

This is a basset protest.  They are complaining I won’t let them eat the sausages that I’m carried around my ankle.  I’ve explained the medical necessity of it but they are not buying it. They don’t even know yet that unless I get a miraculous overnight recovery they are going to have to play at home all day tomorrow.  No trips out for sniffing, hooning and running.

I’m sure they’ll get over it.  Fingers crossed that my ageing body does too.