A little over two weeks ago, at around 2pm, I was standing in my kitchen, throwing some recycling into the garage bin, ruminating about why the children can't throw things in the bin and instead, stack them on the counter, whether or not I should shower or eat lunch first, and how much time I had remaining until I had to pick up the children. My foot slipped off the top step and then everything was a blur. One ankle twisted, as I tried to catch myself from falling, my other ankle twisted, I registered pain, I realized both ankles hurt, I was on the floor. I could barely breathe from the pain, there was no crying, not enough breath for that.
It was a lovely below zero day in our unheated garage and despite the layer of hay and straw between myself and the cement floor, I knew I needed to get inside. I remember thinking that I didn't want to get my pants dirty by crawling and then scoffing at myself for the ludicrous nature of that thought. I crawled into the house. The dogs, who were the only ones home with me at the time, believed that this was a very exciting game. Oh boy, she's on the floor with us, lick her!
After crawling back into the house, the pain subsided to the point where I could breathe again so I though I
should try standing. I was barely able to do that while using the counter and bookshelf for support. The dogs were disappointed that we weren't playing the crawling game any more, but were still excitedly milling around my feet.
I knew I had to get to the couch, I also knew I had to get the phone on the way because, being a mom, I was thinking about the kids and the fact I would be unable to fetch them. Somehow, the phone and I ended up on the couch where I elevated my feet and dialed my husband. When he answered, I said, "I did something stupid." That pretty much sums it up.
I spent the next several hours with my feet propped up, waiting for the pain to subside. Brian & the kids came home, I still claimed to be fine.
Then I tried to walk to the bathroom.
I still could barely hobble, and needed something to support me the entire way. I started wondering if I was too hasty when I had told Brian I didn't need to go to Urgent Care. I thought they'd tell me to RICE (Rest, Ice, Compression, Elevation) and send me on my way. But at this point, I thought I could take a dose of RICE if it came with pain killers so I made a plan. An extremely complex plan, because, you see, Stella had a horse bowl class from 5:30-7:00pm and Sandis had dog class from 7-8:00pm. So, Brian was to take Stella to her class with me along for the ride, then proceed to Urgent Care and drop me off, then back home to get Sandis and take her to dog. When dog class ended at 8pm, he could bring both girls to pick me up from Urgent Care. Perfect!
Well, he stayed with me at UC until they wheeled me back. They took xrays. I expected the RICE talk. Not so much. One spiral break to be put in a boot air cast, the other a bad sprain in a little ankle thing, orders to call the Orthopedic Center first thing when they opened. They warned that it was a bad break and might need surgery. No walking at. all. They gave me a prescription not only for pain meds, but also for a wheelchair. For in my house. Yes, for in. my. house. Then they wheeled me out to wait for Brian.
After a few minutes of waiting, though no one said anything, I realized the UC closed at 7pm. It was now probably 7:15pm and my family wouldn't reasonably be there to pick me up until 8:30pm. I texted Brian to see if he could get a ride for Sandis with a friend of ours who was also at dog class, and he & Stella could come and pick me up since the UC was closed. That was arranged and I waited.
And waited. And waited.
Finally, another text came through at 7:59pm. They had been stuck in the snow and ice of the parking lot and were now finally on their way. Ugh. Another minute and they could have just brought Sandis with them!
I was finally picked up at 8:15. Now we would be racing Sandis home because Brian had forgotten to give her a house key (I don't know what else could possibly have been on his mind, this night.) Not only that but there was the logistics of getting my pain killers before the pharmacy closed. I didn't have my friend's number in my phone, but I had her husband's number. I called him, he called his wife, they took Sandis (and dog) home with them and we proceeded to the pharmacy. Drugs acquired, we picked Sandis up, and finally arrived home a bit after 9pm.
And that, my friends is the end of day one with two broken legs. "Two?," you say, "you only mentioned one?" That fact was not discovered until day two, at the orthopedic appt.
