Monday, December 28, 2009

Benched for the season


So the good news is that I'll have lots of time to reminisce with family over the next few weeks and populate Tuna on Wheatley with tons of great stories.

This one began on the second day of Christmas.

Toward the end of a beautiful walk with my neighbor's son's dog, I descended the steps of the court house and promptly did a fancy little dance on the ice that landed me flat on my well-padded backside. I heard a lovely snap-crackle-pop type sound and felt a painful twist. While I'd had twisted ankles before, this was kind of different from anything I'd experienced in my fracture-free 43+ years.

As I was lying there gazing at the sky, being thankful that I hadn't whacked my head and yelling for the dog, whose leash I'd let go, I noticed that my foot dangled at an especially odd angle above me. Not too sure why I held it over my head,  but I soon discovered that this was about the most comfortable position. Except for that dangling part.

Ruh roh.

Rummaged in my pocket and pulled out the cell phone - hooray for cell phones! Didn't think this was 911-worthy, but was pretty sure a visit to the ER was going to be necessary. So I called my sister - and while she was on her way to rescue me - the neighbor, who I figured was beginning to wonder where I was. I did not want her to come out, because keeping her from risking slipping on the ice was the whole point of my walking the dog (C is recovering from knee surgery).

While waiting for dear sister Sharon, who seems to always be rescuing me in some way or another, I dragged myself from the foot of the steps to the parking lot and a bench where I could pull myself up. I'd quickly discovered back there by the steps that I couldn't put any weight on my right foot. And I didn't want Sharon to walk across the slippery pavement.

While I was in the middle of my dragging, yelling for the dog, who'd gone off to Hoover up all the pet poop and other goodies in the vicinity, a woman in a nearby parking lot yelled over to me, asking if I was OK. I told her I'd slipped on the ice and my sister was coming to take me to the hospital. As she approached to help me, the dog came between us, which I think scared her a bit ... so she yelled "be right back!" and disappeared. Moments later, right after I'd pulled myself up on the bench, she reappeared with a man in blue in tow. Was surprised to see blue and not brown (I live nearest the sheriff's department, plus the court house, bail bondsmen, bars and a zillion churches). At almost the same moment, C-who-was-supposed-to-stay-safely-in-her-house  pulled up and leaned out the window dangling a bag of meat to help lure the dog back. And as we all yelled for the dog, Sharon pulled up.

While the police officer helped C with the dog, Homeless woman? Jesus in street clothes? Lots of speculation about the nameless woman. But whoever she was helped me to Sharon's car. The police officer then came over to assist with loading my functioning and non-functioning parts. And then he disappeared. How odd ... thought for sure he'd want to do a report with the incident on county property and all. Wouldn't you think? Though he'd asked what happened, he didn't even take our names.

Off to a surprisingly unbusy ER. Couldn't believe it - a slippery Saturday night in Saginaw. I looked pretty interesting on arrival. Leaning to the left (I'd discovered that if I supported my damaged ankle against the good one, it stabilized it just enough to minimize the sharp, shooting pains going up my leg.) My entire left side and backside were wet from the great snow scooch, making it look like I'd peed my pants, which I promptly announced to all that I had not. While they were checking me in, a nurse asked what was on my face. I reached up and felt the dried paint from the face painting part of my excursion with the small people earlier in the day. Yep, with the mismatched socks I'd hurriedly pulled on before taking the dog for her mid-day walk earlier the same day and my greasy handprint decorated wet pants, my whole ensemble was pretty priceless.

Here are the high points of the 24 hours that followed: X-rays, diagnosis of some sort of bimalleolar fracture (or similar), admission, ORIF (open reduction internal fixation) surgery ... and learning to successfully use a bedpan.


See all the fun ahead as I fill in the gaps and then continue the story the next few months? So much to look forward to! When I was told last night that I couldn't walk or drive for two months, I got into Scarlett O'Hara mode: We'll think about that tomorrow. Which I guess is today. 

Benched for the season. There go all those nice plans for daily walks, sledding, ice skating and more. But this story is already chock-full of to-be-continued potential, and especially God moments. Plus we have non-gory pictures to share, which Lizz is uploading .... so stay tuned!

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