Falling down stairs...
...is generally not a good thing to do. My ankle has been repeating this refrain for almost 24 hours now. But, yanno, it could've been lots worse.
Last night, my D&D group was going to My Very Favourite Restaurant in Manchester (all-you-can-eat Indian buffet, top-quality food and lots of it!) to celebrate a member's birthday. I showered. I changed into my going-out clothes. I put on my make-up and jewellery. I put on my nice slightly-but-not-too-high heels. I picked up my purple cascade cardigan. I headed down the stairs.
Now, my dad raised us to always put a hand on the rail going up or down stairs. I do this without even thinking, it's become so well-ingrained. But maybe 1% of the time, I don't -- say, if I'm carrying something. Also maybe 1% of the time, a foot slips or an ankle turns. This time, both occurred together, and I ended up with my upper body on the floor in front of my front door and my legs on the turn of the stairs. Yes, you may laugh; after all, I did. :-)
Unfortunately, I sprained the foot that orignally turned wrong. The side of that foot is all technicolour purple, blue, and green, with a bit of swelling to give it a little extra punch. I was nearly 100% sure nothing was broken; I've broken enough bones to know what that feels like. But I wasn't sure if it was a sprain or something else, so I went to the (ahem) walk-in clinic (yes, go ahead, laugh again), and obtained the official diagnosis of a sprain.
Well, it could've been much much worse, so I'm not upset about it. In pain, yes. Annoyed at the inconvenience, yes. Not able to drive for a week or so, yeah. But, my-oh-my it could've been worse, so I'm not complaining.