Paul and I have just returned from our four-day trip to Los Angeles to visit his parents, particularly to celebrate his mother’s 70th birthday. (I have trouble believing that, since she doesn’t look the part at all!) It was a good visit, as usual, since Paul’s parents are so pleasant and hospitable. While in Southern California, we also enjoyed a delightfully chatty lunch with James and Holly Valliant. (More on his book later…)
The Really Bad News is that Paul sprained his ankle this morning while running. About two miles into our planned six mile run, Paul took a bad step and twisted his ankle. After he recovered from the initial pain and determined that it was likely just a sprain, he settled onto a nearby bench. I then ran the two miles home to get the car to transport him home. He spent most of the day on his parents’ couch, diligently icing it — until we had to leave for the airport.
So now Paul is limping and gimping around with a cane, just like Dr. House. Except without the irascible charm. Or the Vicodin. (Tylenol is a poor substitute!)
He’s pretty sure that it’s only a sprain, but we’ll probably take him for x-rays tomorrow morning just to be sure. In the meantime, his ankle is terribly swollen and quite painful. Flying home tonight was hard for him, even though we had emergency ice packs, a row all to ourselves, and wheelchairs at both ends.
Poor Mr. Woo!