Not exactly an "Officer and a Gentleman"

On Friday I was blogging about my shoes and I digressed into a story about a sprained ankle and a Sam. I don't know what it was about this particular Sam but while I dated him I also suffered from an Achilles Heel tear.

I was coming home one night in December or January. It was cold, as it is known to be in the Midwest in those winter months, but it was one of those clear and no snow type of nights. My driveway was clear of snow and it was dry. Except, I learned the hard way, one tiny little spot. There was one damn spot of ice about 6 inches wide on the whole freaking driveway and of course, I stepped on that tiny spot. And slipped. And fell. And I really really really hurt my ankle-leg-foot part of my body. I was laying on the driveway crying my head off at 1 am.

I sort of crawled and dragged myself into the house and sat on the floor. I then called some friends of mine to come get me (the Sam was working as a DJ at a gig and there was no way he could come get me so I didn't even bother to impose) to take me to the hospital. I hurt hurt hurt. And I had no idea what was wrong. I thought I broke my leg or foot or ankle or all three.

So I went to the ER and learned I had a torn Achilles. I got a temp cast thingy on it and then the next day I got a boot thingy on it.

When all this happened I was teaching at the college level. The day after the incident I had a morning class to teach and an evening one. So, my friends of the ER trip gave me a ride to the school and the Dean of students took me to the doc that afternoon and back to the school. Sam and I were supposed to have a date and he was going to pick me up at school when class was over. But with all the running around and teaching and stuff, I sort of forgot to mention to Sam I screwed up my ankle/ foot.

So he shows up to get me and comes to my room. I was sitting at my desk with my leg propped up and was chatting with some students. Sam comes in and takes one look and asks what happened. I told him and he chuckled. I grab my crutches and ask him if he'll carry my bag. He takes one look at my giant pink bag and says no way.

What he does instead is hand me my bag and picks ME up, one shoulder fireman carry style, and grabs my crutches and off we go. As he went through the hallways with me hanging ass up over his shoulder, my casted/booted foot dangling, people in the hallway step aside and applaud. They laugh. They clap and cheer. I raised my head and waved at everyone as we paraded passed them.

We arrive at his pick-up truck where he so carefully and gently deposits me on the passenger seat, kisses me, smiles and asks what I want for dinner. As we pull out of the parking lot, everyone who is still around cheers. We wave.

Not Richard Gere and Debra Winger, but still.... it was good. Oh so good.

Maggie