…and it’s startin’ to look weird. James is glumly admitting that yup, that could be a break, and that nasty little popping sensation could be…err…more badness. And he can’t walk on it at all.

So now I’m waiting for an on-call doctor to call back, and let us know whether he hangs out overnight, or whether we get to make a trip to Ye Olde E.R.

James and I both feel awkward about going to the ER for things that are excruciating but not notably life-threatening–I mean, don’t we need to leave that for the cardiac patients and the people with gunshot wounds? That’s an emergency. This is just a serious pain in the ass, but it’s not like he’s gonna die of it.

What to do, what to do…