It Was the Best of Times, It Was the Worst of Times

Fortunately, it was Friday.

Unfortunately, I still had to go to work.

Fortunately, it didn't take me long to get ready.

Unfortunately, even though I had slept through the night, I was still exhausted.

Fortunately, I was able to lie down for a few minutes after getting ready.

Unfortunately, I fell asleep for 20 minutes.

Fortunately, I was able to walk down the stairs by myself.

Unfortunately, I didn't actually walk down the stairs by myself. I fell down half of the stairs and Alexander had to help me the rest of the way.

Fortunately, I didn't break anything or cry (out loud).

Unfortunately, it just convinced me that I really should have stayed in bed this morning. Some mornings are not meant to be spent out of bed.

Fortunately, my boss has been very nice about me being late this week (which has been nearly every day).

Unfortunately, I was already nearly an hour late for work.

Fortunately, I finally got to work and found no emails or phone calls waiting for me (it was a miracle!).

Unfortunately, I am at work.


Here's to hoping the weekend doesn't suck!

The Consequence of Being Stubborn

My husband has reminded me that I haven't actually taken the time to explain to everyone my current physical condition. I tried to explain that I did updated my status on Facebook, a lot, but he says Facebook doesn't count.

About a year ago (June 2008) I severely sprained my ankle running down my stairs (yay me!) and a week later jaunted off to England to promptly ruin it. After two weeks of walking on the hugely swollen appendage I essentially closed all possibilities of ever healing properly.

Fast forward a year to June 2009 when I decided enough was enough. I took myself to the orthopedic doctor and set out to correct my problems. He fussed about my flat feet, my swollen ankle, took x-rays, gave me a cortisone shot (so painful!) and orthopedic inserts and we waited. The ankle got worse.

Two weeks ago I got an MRI to see how bad the damage really was. On Monday, Aug 17, I went in to the doctor to discuss the results and they weren't very pretty. I had torn my anterior ligament and a cyst had formed. I also had a bone spur in an inconvenient location. He recommended immediate surgery. So on Wednesday, Aug 19, I went in early in the morning to get everything fixed.

Needless to say, I was a nervous wreck and my poor, sweet husband almost made me cry as they wheeled me to the operating room. It wasn't really a big deal, but it felt like it was. I woke up an hour later as they were wrapping my foot up in a very warm cast. I remember thinking how nice the anesthesiologist was as he acknowledged my awakening.

Turns out the damage was even worse than they had expected. The ligament was torn almost all the way through and was only being held together by a few "threads". Had we waited much longer I would have inevitability tripped doing something stupid and it would have torn completely apart. That would have been much worse.

I was kept in recovery for awhile as they tried to keep my breathing up. This was actually a valid concern as my body didn't feel the need to breath and my oxygen levels kept dropping. They finally released me to go home a few hours later.

I am doing much better now. I am able to get up and move around provided I have the support of crutches. I also was blessed to be able to borrow a wheelchair for those places where a lot of walking is necessary. I am still exhausted and sore but thankful to be off of the percocet which made me very ill. I have to keep the cast on for four more weeks and get it off on Sept 21. At that time I will finally be able to see if I have a cool scar.

Let this be a lesson to all of you who think that things will always heal themselves and that doctors are quacks. :)

Caution: Wet Floor

My husband is always very worried about me. Every morning as I leave for work he reminds me in a very sober tone, "Be careful". Every day I give him another reason to be worried. To some it would appear that I have very poor luck, but really I am just very clumsy.

Some accidents are worse than others. For instance, every day I stub my toe on the scale by the bedroom door and I usually walk into the wall when I'm trying to walk through doorways (I'm still not sure how that happens). However, it gets worse. Three weeks ago I sprained my wrist while planting my flower garden. Who does that? Last week as I was trying to fulfill my latest dream of being a caterer I fell victim to my stupidity again. What happened was that I was getting a pan out of the oven and unknowingly used a hot-pad that had been set in water. As I felt my right hand thumb burning I was about to drop the pan, but instinctively I reached with my left (and unprotected hand) to catch the pan. Well, as my fingers touched the searing pan (it had been in the oven for 10-12 min at 400 degrees) I dropped the pan and yelled at the top of my lungs.

Luckily, the food didn't fall on the floor, but my hand was covered in second degree burns and I quite possibly woke the neighbors. Sadly for my husband, it was 2:37 a.m. and I woke him up so that we could go to the store to get something to wrap my hand and hopefully find something to stop the pain. Let's just say that was a night when my husband had wished he had been around to offer parental supervision. The way my life goes, something really exciting and painful is sure to happen again soon, so be on the watch out for my latest escapade. :)