Not Bitten, Not Shy

Well, guess what.  It isn't a sprain, it isn't a bug bite, it's cellulitis.

Yesterday, I had an appointment with my psychiatrist.  When he asked how I was, talk turned to my ankle.  He took a look and said, "I think that's cellulitis."  

Last night, I decided to give an urgent care center a try.  I got a call from them at 7:30 AM: "Come on in!"

The doctor came in, looked at my ankle, said, "I think that's cellulitis."  We had nice conversations about cellulitis and lots of other things.  (There weren't any other patients waiting for him.)  He prescribed an antibiotic and drew a line around the area.

(Let me just say that taking a picture of that side of my ankle is difficult.  Trying to fully see that side of my ankle is difficult.  I've been using my phone and a mirror to get a look at it all along.)

The doctor said that if the redness spreads beyond the line in the next two days, give him a call back.  The antibiotic should cause improvements within those two days, so at least I have a timetable.  I'm ready to not limp and not have pain.