And I actually rather have an excuse ... and it's a really decent one.
No, I didn't go on vacation or was hospitalized with ebola or was in prison or anything fun/exciting like that.
No ... nothing quite like that.
SO, here's how it started ... Sunday (Sept 29), there I am, getting everyone (except Michael, who's already at church in meetings) ready for church. We're running a couple minutes later than I'd like (which, by the by, is still early, because I'm a freak like that). I make sure to grab the sign-up sheet so that I can be sure to get rides for a sister in the ward. I hold that in one hand (so it won't get wrinkled, since we need to make copies), grab my purse (with my phone and keys), and follow the kids out the door to the van.
I lock the back door and then start to go down the three stairs to the carport floor so I can get Bubbles into her carseat. The kids have already unlocked the van earlier. Bruise is climing into his seat. Bucket is by Bubbles so Bubbles doesn't go running off into the road as is the wont of a nearly 19-month-old.
And ... I miss a step somewhere in there. I don't know if it was that top step or the middle ... but all I know is that I went down. When I'm next totally aware of what's going on, I know that I'm at the bottom of the steps, my purse is next to me, the sign-up sheet (eventually) is on the other side of the railing (slightly mangled), and I'm in a pile at the bottom of the stairs and I HURT.
I thought I heard some pops when I was in my (very short, very sudden) flight ... and I make sure to wiggle my toes. That's a good sign. I try to rotate my right foot ... OW OW FLIPPITYFLIPPITYOW.
I grapple to open my purse and dig out my phone and call Michael to come and get the kids, because I can't take them to church and I'vehurtmyselfandI'lltrytogetintothehouseandithurtsandI'msorry.
I have Bruise close up the car, Bucket take my keys and unlock the house. They usher Bubbles inside and I drag/crawl/hop into the house and get to my computer chair (closest place to sit) and put my foot up on the other computer chair and try not to cry.
Michael got home, got me moved over to the couch, elevated and iced my ankle, printed out a non-wrinkled copy of the sign-up sheet, ran back to the church to get some things done AFTER putting (cranky) Bubbles to nap and getting the kids settled building a LEGO version of Samuel the Lamanite and me into an Epsom salt bath (where I posted a picture of my ankle onto Facebook. ... I'm such a hussy. Those are the only nude pics that'll be online ... and you can only see from my knees down).
Michael got back home and got me to the other couch, so I could be more comfortable and watch TV. And ... well, for the couple weeks, that's what I did -- rested on the couch, keeping my ankle elevated and applying lots of ice and compression bandages.
One friend has lent me her family's pair of crutches. I've gotten decent at using them.
Monday, Michael stayed home and took care of me.
Tuesday, Mom C took Bubbles for the day, since the kids were at school and Michael was at work, so I could relax.
Wednesday, Mom came up and took care of Bubbles and me.
We took Bubbles to her 18-months check-up ... we made quite the parade: Mom, pushing Bubbles in her stroller and me, bringing up the rear on crutches.
Dr. R also took a look at my ankle and pronounced it a good sprain with very little chance of a fracture ... which is what Michael had told me (and he's had his share of sprained/rolled ankles).
Friday, Bruise was receiving an award at a school assembly for reading, so we went, in our same little parade. We had to park a couple blocks away ... and, with the crutches and everything, I was ready to cry by the time they announced that we could take pictures, in the hallway (on the OPPOSITE side of the cafeteria where the assembly was. By the time we got Bubbles, Mom and me HEADED to take pictures, the students were heading back to their seats. ... So I just had Bruise stand against the backdrop curtain hiding the cafeteria prep and took my damn pictures and Mom, Bubbles, and I headed back home.
Later, I took a Percocet (left over from my kidney stone almost two years ago) ... and I felt so good, I tried putting full weight on my ankle.
Bad idea.
Which required more ice, ibuprofen, elevation, and time. Grrr.
I've been really blessed in that the last couple of weeks have been easy, church-wise: We had General Conference (which you can watch/listen to at home), so I didn't have to get dressed up or leave the house at all. I was able to sit at my desk or the couch and take notes/listen/follow the Bloggernacle/TwitterStake.
And last week was our Stake Conference, where we go to church and have a two hour meeting where you don't have to move to any other classrooms (And Bruise and Bucket were pretty darn quiet!! I was pleasantly amazed).
Which brings us to last week:
- Monday - I try to take Bubbles for the day. No go. I can't chase her on crutches.
Thankfully, Michael's having a really slow day at work and comes home shortly after lunch. - Tuesday - Mom C comes and gets Bubbles again.
- Wednesday and Thursday - My mom's up and takes care of us until the kids get home from school Thursday.
- Friday - The kids don't have school, so we make do until Michael gets home from work (Friday is the early day) ... And we take the kids to the LEGO KidsFest ... and I get to trade in my crutches for a wheelchair.
The KidsFest was great. Even in a wheelchair.
We would have brought a carrier for Bubbles (who mostly sat on my lap or Michael carried her) and I'd have brought a smaller purse.
We also would have brought a bag for all the freebie swag that Bruise and Bucket got (totally cancelled out the price of their tickets) ... and it was totally worth the price, regardless.
We would have brought a carrier for Bubbles (who mostly sat on my lap or Michael carried her) and I'd have brought a smaller purse.
We also would have brought a bag for all the freebie swag that Bruise and Bucket got (totally cancelled out the price of their tickets) ... and it was totally worth the price, regardless.
But, yeah, now I know how to use crutches AND a wheelchair.
Saturday, Michael cleaned out the shop/storage shed. The kids lied about cleaning their room ... so they had to do that and are off of Netflix/DVDs/Wii for the week.
As the kids were "cleaning" their room, RIGHT AFTER Michael left for a meeting, Bubbles came out screaming ... and with a mouth full of blood.
Turns out that Bucket "accidentally threw" her into her bed.
My response: "How THE HELL does one 'accidentally throw' someone anywhere??"
So, as it REALLY turns out, Bubbles climbed up into Bucket's (top) bunk and, instead of enlisting Bruise to help Bubbles get down the ladder, Bucket just hung Bubbles over the edge of the bed and dropped her into her pack-n-play ... which resulted in Bubbles biting her tongue BAD.
As the kids were "cleaning" their room, RIGHT AFTER Michael left for a meeting, Bubbles came out screaming ... and with a mouth full of blood.
Turns out that Bucket "accidentally threw" her into her bed.
My response: "How THE HELL does one 'accidentally throw' someone anywhere??"
So, as it REALLY turns out, Bubbles climbed up into Bucket's (top) bunk and, instead of enlisting Bruise to help Bubbles get down the ladder, Bucket just hung Bubbles over the edge of the bed and dropped her into her pack-n-play ... which resulted in Bubbles biting her tongue BAD.
I did some Google-fu (and called Michael) ... it wasn't bad enough to take her to the doctor's about ... even IF I could drive her there, or IF Michael came home. Seriously, the next day, her tongue only looked like there was a papercut on it. I don't even see any marks as of yesterday.
We had her suck on a wet rag with ice. She had some acetaminophen and a nap ... then popsicles.
But, yeah ... between THAT and her getting stitches a month or so ago (which you can barely see the scar) ... well, combining that with my ankle AND that I was JUST off my cycle ... It's a wonder that I haven't had a heart attack ... like I ALMOST did when Michael came in Saturday morning and I was running a bath (ALL BY MYSELF) and was about to slide myself into it and then SUDDENLY, without my being able to hear him coming, there's SOMEONE in the room.
Seriously, my heart nearly skidded to a stop.
Then I started to breathe again.
We had her suck on a wet rag with ice. She had some acetaminophen and a nap ... then popsicles.
But, yeah ... between THAT and her getting stitches a month or so ago (which you can barely see the scar) ... well, combining that with my ankle AND that I was JUST off my cycle ... It's a wonder that I haven't had a heart attack ... like I ALMOST did when Michael came in Saturday morning and I was running a bath (ALL BY MYSELF) and was about to slide myself into it and then SUDDENLY, without my being able to hear him coming, there's SOMEONE in the room.
Seriously, my heart nearly skidded to a stop.
Then I started to breathe again.
This week, I've started sleeping in again a bit. I've been exhausted ... and it's not like I've been DOING stuff. Maybe folding some laundry. But getting up so early (so early = 5:50ish AM), not napping really, having a crap cough that doesn't let me sleep, plus waking up whenever I want to roll over in bed ... yeah, I'm not getting as much sleep.
So, I started not waking up that early (which I was so that Michael could help me in/out of the shower and get my clothes, help me out to the couch, make sure that I had a phone handset and my bag of stuff (stuff = cellphone, lip gloss, acetaminophen, ibuprofen, Vicodin, Percocet [both leftover from that kidney stone incident of 2012 and appreciated during this time ... and I made sure not to take them if I was the only adult in the house, regardless of pain level. So, therefore, I think my future as a junkie is severely limited], Aspercreme, ACE bandages, my ankle brace, a nail file, a book ... things like that.) ... so that I'd only really need to get up to go to the bathroom.
Eventually, we got me a couple of boxes of cereal bars so that I'd have something to eat during the day on days that my mom wasn't here (or if Mom C didn't bring me a doughnut), since -- on crutches -- I couldn't carry anything.
Eventually, we got me a couple of boxes of cereal bars so that I'd have something to eat during the day on days that my mom wasn't here (or if Mom C didn't bring me a doughnut), since -- on crutches -- I couldn't carry anything.
Bubbles likes to race-crawl me if I'm on the ground.
Yesterday, I managed to take care of Bubbles AND myself for the day. She demanded that I help her unload the dishwasher. I also started a load of laundry. And I overdid it by carrying her to nap ... since I wasn't using crutches for that. Just the ankle brace.
I started being able to walk on Sunday ... I first practiced between the couches in the living room. Then I managed to hobble from bed to the bathroom and back.
I moved with all the grace of a geriatric with a hip replacement post-surgery. And it's exhausting.
Mostly due to the sheer mind-numbing terror when I have to first figure out how exactly do I trust all my (considerable, let's be honest) weight onto an injured, still-swollen joint.
So, yeah, I was hurting again by yesterday afternoon.
Today, I've realized that I don't put on my ankle brace well. If Michael puts it on, that's fine. But when I put it on, I put it too tight or something against a bruised spot on my ankle (right against a bone, even) ... so that makes it HURT to walk.
I've babied it a bit today. BUT I was able to STEP (not HOP on my good foot but STEP), with my weight on my gimp foot, into the shower today. That hasn't happened since the 29th.
I also loaded up the washer, after moving clothes to the dryer. Loaded the dishwasher. Fed the cat and gave her water. My RS President (and friend -- same person) came over and filled my crockpot with a lasagna AND helped me fold (and put away) some clothes.
I moved with all the grace of a geriatric with a hip replacement post-surgery. And it's exhausting.
Mostly due to the sheer mind-numbing terror when I have to first figure out how exactly do I trust all my (considerable, let's be honest) weight onto an injured, still-swollen joint.
So, yeah, I was hurting again by yesterday afternoon.
Today, I've realized that I don't put on my ankle brace well. If Michael puts it on, that's fine. But when I put it on, I put it too tight or something against a bruised spot on my ankle (right against a bone, even) ... so that makes it HURT to walk.
I've babied it a bit today. BUT I was able to STEP (not HOP on my good foot but STEP), with my weight on my gimp foot, into the shower today. That hasn't happened since the 29th.
I also loaded up the washer, after moving clothes to the dryer. Loaded the dishwasher. Fed the cat and gave her water. My RS President (and friend -- same person) came over and filled my crockpot with a lasagna AND helped me fold (and put away) some clothes.
I am not good at getting myself food for breakfast and lunch. Here, it's nearly 4:30 and I still haven't eaten anything. I've had water. And cough syrup. Maybe I won't totally lose my voice from coughing like almost happened yesterday.
It's rather hard to relearn to walk. Mostly because it can hurt. And I really don't like pain.
In other news, Michael can tell when my drugs (Percocet or NyQuil) kick in.
On Percocent, I just am talking ... then I stop and announce, apropos to nothing, "I really like rosemary. But I can't grow it in this house. It's just too dim. ... Rosemary and firs have very distinctive shapes. They're a little similar ... but not the smell. Not at all."
Yes, I am just that special.
And I'm completely aware that I act strangely focused and quite nerdy when on drugs.
In other news, Michael can tell when my drugs (Percocet or NyQuil) kick in.
On Percocent, I just am talking ... then I stop and announce, apropos to nothing, "I really like rosemary. But I can't grow it in this house. It's just too dim. ... Rosemary and firs have very distinctive shapes. They're a little similar ... but not the smell. Not at all."
Yes, I am just that special.
And I'm completely aware that I act strangely focused and quite nerdy when on drugs.
Another example: I'm sitting on the couch, my foot is elevated on a pillow on Michael's lap. I'm working at rotating my ankle in as big of circles as possible to work on range of motion.
I'm staring at my foot/leg ... "It's no wonder that the Romans called muscles 'muscles.' It rather does look like there's something moving around in there. Might as well be mice. ... I'm glad it's not mice, though."
So, yeah ... that's most of the last two weeks done up in one LONG, rambling (but this is me. What else do you expect, really?) post.
Long story short - I busted up my ankle falling down a couple stairs on the way to church. It looked like a zombie leg, with all the swelling and bruising. It's getting better. I know now how to use crutches and I can navigate with a wheelchair. I'm learning to walk again. And I can actually take care of Bubbles by myself for a few hours at a time (the kids help A LOT when they're home).
Long story short - I busted up my ankle falling down a couple stairs on the way to church. It looked like a zombie leg, with all the swelling and bruising. It's getting better. I know now how to use crutches and I can navigate with a wheelchair. I'm learning to walk again. And I can actually take care of Bubbles by myself for a few hours at a time (the kids help A LOT when they're home).
I'm really ready to have a leg with NO swelling, bruises, or pain ... but I'm trying to be patient.
I suck at patience ... especially with myself, since usually I'm the one that people describe as "Oh, don't worry, she's stronger than she looks." But this ... this is not something that I can just cop an attitude and stubborn my way through. Or I'd have been walking last week. DEFINITELY.
In closing, here's a joke that Bucket made up:
Q: How does a hamburger fart?
A: WITH ITS BUNS!
You've got to admit, that is a golden joke.
I suck at patience ... especially with myself, since usually I'm the one that people describe as "Oh, don't worry, she's stronger than she looks." But this ... this is not something that I can just cop an attitude and stubborn my way through. Or I'd have been walking last week. DEFINITELY.
In closing, here's a joke that Bucket made up:
Q: How does a hamburger fart?
A: WITH ITS BUNS!
You've got to admit, that is a golden joke.
... Does anyone know where to buy Pumpkin Spice Hershey Kisses? I kind of NEED to try them.
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