I scrapped my left elbow and left knee. Bloodied but bandaged up, I resumed play for another hour or so. But once off the court, adrenaline waning, my left ankle swelled.
Sadly, perhaps fortunately, between Gilda’s and my prior experiences we had three ankle boots in our basement to choose from until I could have an orthopedic specialist see me for a professional diagnosis, evaluation and protocol of treatment. I’ll see him Thursday morning.
I had already planned to miss my regular Thursday pickleball game. We have Broadway theater tickets to see “Becky Shaw.” My next scheduled game is Tuesday. I doubt I will be cleared to play.
Orthopedic specialists are said to be doing land office business tending to pickleball injuries, mostly to the elderly. I generally make it a rule not to backpedal for lobs or rush in for dinks, two main actions foreshadowing injuries.
My exuberance overcame my caution.
I’m hoping I just sprained the ankle with no ligament damage. At 77, my body takes longer to repair itself.
