One Time...In Tumbling Class...

So, here it was. The third day of school. I'd spent my day from 8:00 a.m. to 4:00 p.m. walking to classes, taking notes, singing arpeggios and scarfing down a PB'nJ. I decided to work out at the campus gym for the first time. You know, to scope out the guys checking themselves out in the mirror, while lifting weights. I came home, ate a wonderful dinner (homemade BBQ chicken pizza made by my very own roommate Tasha), and did some dishes. Earlier, in my ceramics class, a girl told me about a free Adult Tumbling class being offered that night. I thought "I've always wanted to know how to do a back handspring." So Liz (my roommate) and I ventured off towards the Hyper Building.

Things were going great. The coaches were cute, my form was decent (or so they said) and I was going to achieve one of my life goals. With some spotting, I was able to accomplish a fairly decent back handspring. After everyone in my group did one, he asks us "What would you like to learn next." I'm thinking "How bout we learn how to do one without spotting? I'm not ready to learn anything else." "How bout backtucks?" He asks, with little to no enthusiasm. He demonstrates and the one boy in my group goes crazy and starts gabbing about how he's always wanted to do one. I watched a couple more demonstrations and thought, looks easy enough. I tried one, and landed roughly on the spring floor. I had done one! Horay! I backed away and let others in the group try.

As I sat there observing, another thought came to mind, "Hmmm...I haven't had a good injury in about two years now. Maybe I should finally bill those stinking insurance companies and get my parent's moneys worth. I'm sure the E.R. is looking for patients tonight." I step up to the instructor (who, by the way, looked like he just recently had his wisdom teeth removed), and asked what would help my form on my back tuck. "Once you jump up, grab onto your knees." Sounds simple enough. One...two...three...jump...flip...POP...SIGH..."Are you ok?"

To make a long story short, I hobbled home, called my Mom and asked if it would be cheaper to go to the Urgent Care or the E.R. My awesome roommate Liz accompanied me to the Logan Hospital and we spent a good hour and half giggling and taking pictures. I didn't break my foot, but the doctors think I tore some ligaments. Wahoo! I will be going to the Podiatrist soon to find out exactly what's wrong with my foot, but for now I have a splint and crutches. My roommates have all been so helpful, and it's be really good for me to humble myself and let others help me.

Here I am in my wheelchair getting my hospital wristband put on.
My swollen foot and the bag of ice that I got with no help from the Tumbling Instructors.
No words.....
My fabulous roommate Liz. Oh how I love her.
Woe is me!

Yep, that's the foot.

It's a sad day in the neighborhood, despite what Mr. Rogers thinks.