I had sat with my legs crossed underneath me for a few hours while taking phone calls and surfing on the web. After writing my rent check, I decided to get up to put in the living room for my roommate.

In the hallway, I stumbled, realizing that my left foot was asleep from being sat on. I fell against the wall, near the closet. Reaching out with my arms, I steadied, but I had twisted my ankle. I tried to take another step, but winced in pain. Having to lean against the wall again, I stood up putting weight on my right foot.

Ouch.

It was painful. My vision became slightly blurry with black marks. I felt light-headed and knew immediately what it was. I stumbled a bit more into the living room, landing on the futon—gathering myself.

Health insurance was the first thought in my mind—the cost of seeing a doctor especially in these times. I sighed while sitting lamely on the futon, wishing someone was in the apartment to take care of me. I had always wondered: if I lived alone, who would know if I had stumbled and passed out?

Struggling, I got ice from the freezer and slowly moved to my room. I laid on my bed, putting ice on my foot. While lying there, I got the phone and called my sister.