My Easter Present

I've been walking on a fractured foot for 8 weeks. The first x-ray showed nothing. Looking back I wish I would have just spent the six hundred dollars for the stinkin bone scan. Instead I ruled out a fracture completely and took it upon myself to see a chiropractor who insured me for four weeks that it was my tendons and told me things like I need to be patient...that these things take time all while he is maneuvering my foot side to side and scraping the crap out of it with metal tools (yes I wanted to cry it hurt so bad). It just wasn't getting better so he finally sent me to an orthopedic and sure enough...a nice fracture in my foot.

They didn't even give me any time to process what was happening before they were shoving me in a boot, handing my crutches, and sending me on my way. The news was devastating and I cried. I didn't care. Three weeks on crutches and another three without. Six weeks! "I'm a Mom to 8 children!" I told the doctor. "What?!" he replied "that can't be!" Through my tears I gave him the condensed version of our life after which I thought he said "you'll just have to do the best you can." Or maybe that was me telling myself that as I hobbled out to the car, crutches in hand not knowing or having the slightest clue how to use them. Six weeks is an eternity in my book. The doctor mentioned before I left "are you one of those people I'm going to have to stick in a hard cast?" This was after my questions of "I can still swim right?"

I cried all the way home to Rob on the phone who happened to be home taking care of Ammon for me. He tried his best to console me...even to the point of desperation of singing the primary song "if you chance to meet a frown." I guess the most comforting thing he said was "you will probably only gain four pounds."

My good friend Jen came over and saved me that day. She won't ever know what that meant to me. We took off to do some Easter shopping and a little retail therapy and lunch with the ladies. I was in a dark hole and I really didn't want to go but I knew if I didn't I would be moping around the house and crying for hours. I even got to ride the little motorized cart at the grocery store. We got a good laugh out of that.
So now what? Well, it's been six days and it's a process. At times I find myself slipping into that dark hole that I can't seem to get out and other times I tell myself I need to snap out of it and get on with life. My kids have been great over the weekend. Riley and Megan haven't left my side as I learn and work on getting around. It is amazing how the simplest of tasks seems like an Olympic event. I didn't realize how many times a day I go up and down my stairs or back and forth from the laundry room to the kitchen. I'm trying to be really good so that maybe when I go back in three weeks it will be healed!

I was grumbling and complaining that I was having to cycle and go to our nasty swimming pool when I would give anything now to be able to do that. I know it's hard for people (especially my family) to understand. I'm a doer and a goer. I work like a tornado and I NEED exercise. I need running. I need that therapy.

I've tried to stay positive because I know I can either face this with a good attitude or be grumpy (and believe me, just ask Rob...I've been plenty grumpy!) I started my decorating my boot with cute duct tape that Jen gave me and sticking a hair flower on it. I wasn't going to let this ugly boot let me down. I know this isn't the end of the world and I sit and try and think of what life lesson I am to learn from this. So far I've come up with compassion and patience. I guess that's a pretty good start.