Broke my leg
It's a drag.
Didn't even do anything interesting: stepped off a curb into a pot hole, twisted my ankle, fell on my hands and knees, and oops! swelling. After hours in the ER, turns out to be broken. After more hours, sent home with a splint and vicodin.
It's good to have friends who will rescue you and your car, drive you home, and feed you. And show up the next day and babysit while you are unbelievably sick from the shock and the vicodin.
Over the week since the break, I've gotten stronger, less nauseous, and able to do more things for myself. But there are things that just take forever -- giving myself a sponge bath, washing my hair, dressing -- and things that I just can't do (take the garbage out). Making food is problematic: my hip starts to hurt from standing on one leg for a while, I have to hop around ... and then I can't carry the made food. Sigh. Carrying dirty dishes back to the kitchen: not so much.
A friend found me a walker to use instead of the crutches: really, it's a huge help. So much more stable. But not perfect -- my arms hurt like hell from propelling myself along. And my hands hurt: it really needs softer handles.
One friend suggested I could use this time to catch up on reading. So what am I reading? Well, my vicodin-drenched brain wasn't interested in anything heavy. I am re-reading all the Harry Potter books, in order. I am up to book number 4.
I could extrapolate from all of this that it's takes a village to take care of the ill in our community ... because so many friends have been here for me. It's also good to have health insurance, so the doctors will take care of me. However ....
I like to be self-sufficient. The most fun I've had all week is talking to my friend who is thoroughly enjoying cooking school. Go team.
Didn't even do anything interesting: stepped off a curb into a pot hole, twisted my ankle, fell on my hands and knees, and oops! swelling. After hours in the ER, turns out to be broken. After more hours, sent home with a splint and vicodin.
It's good to have friends who will rescue you and your car, drive you home, and feed you. And show up the next day and babysit while you are unbelievably sick from the shock and the vicodin.
Over the week since the break, I've gotten stronger, less nauseous, and able to do more things for myself. But there are things that just take forever -- giving myself a sponge bath, washing my hair, dressing -- and things that I just can't do (take the garbage out). Making food is problematic: my hip starts to hurt from standing on one leg for a while, I have to hop around ... and then I can't carry the made food. Sigh. Carrying dirty dishes back to the kitchen: not so much.
A friend found me a walker to use instead of the crutches: really, it's a huge help. So much more stable. But not perfect -- my arms hurt like hell from propelling myself along. And my hands hurt: it really needs softer handles.
One friend suggested I could use this time to catch up on reading. So what am I reading? Well, my vicodin-drenched brain wasn't interested in anything heavy. I am re-reading all the Harry Potter books, in order. I am up to book number 4.
I could extrapolate from all of this that it's takes a village to take care of the ill in our community ... because so many friends have been here for me. It's also good to have health insurance, so the doctors will take care of me. However ....
I like to be self-sufficient. The most fun I've had all week is talking to my friend who is thoroughly enjoying cooking school. Go team.