Almost two weeks ago, I fell. It was as if my right leg had been taken away for a minute or so. The aftermath left me wondering how bad my knee is, as well as my ankle and foot. I quietly reduced the ankle swelling, but I’ve also walked on broken bones in my foot and toes for months until the issue became something larger. If you were to look at x-rays of my feet, you would see healed fractures and probably some damage to repeatedly broken toes. They never heal perfectly, and I’ve smashed into two more times than I care to count. I no longer walk around barefoot. I’m lucky; they still look okay on the outside.

Last week, my doctor took me out of play. I was only allowed to be on my leg for important things, and not for long periods of time because I’m still limping. For me, the concern was that limping was putting undue pressure on my hip bones as I awkwardly toddled around. Painfully. He emailed me care instructions. Elevate. Ice. Heat, if need be, but mostly “Stay off of your leg as much as you can. Rest. Your body needs to heal. Your muscles need the break.” I was SO anxious and upset before calling, but his staff put me at ease and so did he.

Unfortunately, my body is taking a beating this month. There was a windstorm last Friday and as a result, the storm door blew out and when it blew back in, with me leaning down to grab a box at the door, it smashed into the top of my head. It was an insulting kind of whack. I’ve certainly experienced worse, but man, it was unkind.

This almost finished week had me stressed and unsettled. Monday I desperately needed more sleep than any individual should need. Tuesday I got a text at 6:30 in the morning and it was a person asking about my appointment. If I had slept another thirty minutes or so, I would not have made it to the scheduled appointment on time. I did, and because I had limped around over the weekend and helped bring groceries in up and down a flight of stairs, I found that my knee was sore, but I didn’t feel like it was broken, so I ran an errand because I had already found that I couldn’t get what I needed delivered. Trust me, if a company had been willing to send me same-day cat supplies (precisely in the order I need it in, which is slightly scrambled because I’ve got picky felines) and human food (I had a list on my phone and only returned with a few things. I just didn’t feel THAT great.), I would have stayed in my pajamas and waited for said deliveries. Alas, I paid for that move on Wednesday and Thursday when I wished I hadn’t fallen at all. I am not a good wounded person. I suppose no one is.

My ankle and foot, that spot where they meet? That’s where I did damage. I already knew it, because I can feel it, and my results after x-rays and a scan on Friday was tears to the Anterior and Posterior TaloFibular ligaments, as well as a third ligament tear. 🤦  I have a fracture in one toe. My knee has a tendon healing. I’m mostly grounded for the next 6-8 weeks (I was told I can walk around “gingerly” if no one can help me with things.) to make sure it’s all completely healed. They ordered a brace for my ankle, which is naturally on back order. 🙄 I’m disgusted. Especially since I have to follow up with an orthopedic surgeon. Even better, the radiology department called to let me know that they didn’t see it initially, but that I also have a hairline fracture to a bone in my foot. These people let me go home without a boot or a wrapped ankle. I asked and they stared at me like I was crazy. They did not ask if I was in pain or ask for my “pain number”, which is pretty standard procedure everywhere. I can walk in for a cold and will be asked about my pain level. I see my doctor in three weeks, but I’m afraid to even mention my pain because finding a good doctor is hard enough. No one should feel this way.

Worse, I am in this awkward holding pattern. I can *maybe* pick up groceries, but lifting them up a flight of stairs with my injuries was heavily discouraged. Mind you, they did not send over twelve guys to help with things I do during the course of a week. Laundry, cleaning the bathroom and bathtub, wiping the windows down with Windex (so my cats can drool on the picture window and make it look like I don’t clean it, EVER. Why are they drooling over birds and squirrels, anyway?!), vacuuming (which my cats screw up in fifteen minutes, so I end up frustrated when it looks like I didn’t do anything.), and other things no one even notices. I also changed my hair color this week, not a single person noticed. I mean, you can’t miss it. It’s a completely different shade of red. Whatever. <rolls eyes> I sometimes cook 4-6 nights a week, too. Again, they did not send assistance home with me, but I did leave with a worse cough, so there’s the gift that keeps on giving. #Cesspool

Yes, I have plenty of writing to do. Three manuscripts in progress. Twenty-six actual scripts to write for a new project I committed to. Plus, regular writing. However, that’s what I call shutting down into the abyss. It’s not completely healthy. A friend kindly pointed out that two months is a LONG time to heal. I said, “I’ll be productive with all the writing I have to do.” But the truth is; what if I’m not? Ugh. Doubt is a vicious creature. I’ll banish it on Tuesday. 😉

Hope you’ll all stick around with me.

XO,

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