"Last night of UK. Show goes great as all of the previous ones have. We've broken even on expenses with 3 weeks of tour left. This is great. Spirits are high. After the set the bus is loaded we're saying goodbye to Hundred Reasons and taking pictures. I'm walking in between the side of the bus and the club -- tight fit, it's dark � and an inconsistency in the sidewalk causes me to lose balance. I can't fall completely over, because I fall into the bus. I land on the ground straight down onto my ankle. I hear and feel a distinct crack. "Are you okay?". "No. No, I'm not." They help me up and usher me into the lower lounge of the bus. Not much ice in the club. Anthony, our tour manager, gets me some cubes wrapped in a napkin and I try to ice it down. No "visible" damage. Nothing feels out of place with some cursory pokes around the area. Feeling in the extremities, everything is moving. It's sore but not terrible. For now.

I go to bed, I'm gonna sleep this off. No such luck. It feels like someone is holding my foot in the mouth of hell itself. I retire to the the TV lounge. I watch a movie. This thing hurts. I take off my shoe, my foot looks like someone inflated it with a bike pump. Everyone that comes into the TV lounge says the same thing, "Holy s***!" Really, that's exactly what everyone says. OK, I'm not sleeping at this point, No ibuprofen, no ice on hand. I'm toughing this one out, there's a lot of DVD's here, I'm gonna watch 'em! - A bit like the Energizer Bunny, Jeff's story continues here

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