I hate walking three flights of stairs

Last Saturday I was playing basketball with my friends. Jack and I both went up for a block at the same time and I fell down on my ankle. I landed in a way that made my ankle turn to the side. I knew it was sprained badly. My ankle was still hurting pretty badly after an hour and some ice, so I decided to go to the emergency room for an x-ray. I wanted to be sure that it wasn’t broken. The doctor took an X-ray and confirmed what I already suspected. I had a terrible spring but nothing was broken. The doctor put me in a boot cast for a couple of weeks to help keep my ankle mobilized. I went to work with the boot on my leg. I told my boss at the marijuana dispensary that I could still deliver. She wanted me to work inside instead of delivering, because of the injury. I told her that I needed the money from the tips. I could not afford to work inside of the store, especially after spending $1,000 at the emergency room. My boss told me that she would keep me on the delivery schedule unless I was too slow. I knew that she had to worry about the marijuana deliveries as well as my sprained ankle. The first day back went pretty well. I didn’t have any deliveries that screened my ankle at all. The next day, I had to walk up three flights of stairs to deliver marijuana to an apartment. The elevator was broken and I thought I was going to pass out by the time I finally climbed three flights of stairs.
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