oooh. So that's what you were trying to tell me...
First, I must apologize to the Goddess Lisa and Saint Gabe. It appears as though I must cancel our night out clubbing. Unless you want to participate in "Dancing with the Cripple". For, alas, I am on crutches once again.
"What the frickity frack" you may be asking. Well, Thursday night, while staying at the hotel in Manteca, I fell and fractured my leg. Yes, the same leg with the broken foot. If I would have listened to Fred and went to KOC Thursday night then maybe this wouldn't have happened. But noooo. I had to be all adult and responsible. I just had to go get a good night's sleep before going to work the next morning. (Let that be a lesson, kiddies. KOC, and listening to Fred, can save lives!)
Bless the ER doc's heart cause was so funny. I went into the ER, around 3:30 Friday morning, all normal-ish. Well, as normal as I can be. No crying. No screaming. Just la-la-la-la-la. He came back from looking at the X-rays, and he had this strange look on his face. "Ok. I really wasn't expecting to see that," he said. "I thought you had just wrenched it and maybe pulled some ligaments. But no, you fractured it and really did a number on it". Yippee!
He told me that there's a good chance that it can be taken care of without surgery, and it looks like I actually managed to somehow not damage the kneecap. The conversation was ended with me telling him I had the best sports injury docs in the world, so I would make an appointment with the ortho. His comment..."umm....you really may want to make that appointment for Monday". Great!
So, I finally get off the crutches only to go right back on them. Plus, that means not walking on my foot again and no more physical therapy on it. My physical therapists are great people, but they are also pretty straight shooters. They've said it will cause some set backs, but not sure how bad. Now I've got to see the ortho foot doc to find out just what we're talking about from his end.
Now, I know you'll find this a bit strange, but I kinda started internalizing this and began planning this enormous pity party. Oh, it was gonna be grand. Balloons. Hors d'oeurves. Cake. Champaign fountain (well, tequilla fountain). The whole works. I started preparing for it by going through the usual bits of "why me", "the universe hates me", "why can't I get a break (other than the one in my leg)" .
But after popping a vicodin and going to soak in the jacuzzi tub, I kinda had an epiphany. I realized the universe really was trying to send me a message. I just misunderstood it.
Ya see, for the past week, I've been all boo hoo-ish because the anniversary of the attack is coming up. As a matter of fact, Thursday was one year ago that I met the psychotic lunatic. For some stupid reason, I went through all the old emails between us, and was once again trying to figure out why the attack happened. I was sinking low and hating everything life had to offer.
I realized that I was focusing so hard on those things and forgot to appreciate all I had accomplished. That I had relearned how to walk and was even starting to do a somewhat scary jog. I wasn't recognizing all that was going right in my life. I think the universe decided to bitch slap the shit out of me, put me back on crutches, and give me a reality check.
I'm having to remember all the things I struggled through and how much I was taking things for granted again. Especially the ability to walk. And at least this time, it will probably be only about 6 weeks on crutches. I know I'll walk again, so I can do this. And between you and me, I probably needed this wake up call. Things weren't as bad as I was feeling. I do think I had a right to be a little down in the dumps facing the anniversary of everything. But I was allowing the blues to go too deep and not celebrate all the achievements I had made.
Yeah, this wake up call could be for the best. (Still, couldn't it have just been a twisted knee and off my leg for 2 or 3 days so that I didn't have to cancel my LA vacation?) Just kidding, universe. Just kidding. No more examples of how bad things can really be. Please!
"What the frickity frack" you may be asking. Well, Thursday night, while staying at the hotel in Manteca, I fell and fractured my leg. Yes, the same leg with the broken foot. If I would have listened to Fred and went to KOC Thursday night then maybe this wouldn't have happened. But noooo. I had to be all adult and responsible. I just had to go get a good night's sleep before going to work the next morning. (Let that be a lesson, kiddies. KOC, and listening to Fred, can save lives!)
Bless the ER doc's heart cause was so funny. I went into the ER, around 3:30 Friday morning, all normal-ish. Well, as normal as I can be. No crying. No screaming. Just la-la-la-la-la. He came back from looking at the X-rays, and he had this strange look on his face. "Ok. I really wasn't expecting to see that," he said. "I thought you had just wrenched it and maybe pulled some ligaments. But no, you fractured it and really did a number on it". Yippee!
He told me that there's a good chance that it can be taken care of without surgery, and it looks like I actually managed to somehow not damage the kneecap. The conversation was ended with me telling him I had the best sports injury docs in the world, so I would make an appointment with the ortho. His comment..."umm....you really may want to make that appointment for Monday". Great!
So, I finally get off the crutches only to go right back on them. Plus, that means not walking on my foot again and no more physical therapy on it. My physical therapists are great people, but they are also pretty straight shooters. They've said it will cause some set backs, but not sure how bad. Now I've got to see the ortho foot doc to find out just what we're talking about from his end.
Now, I know you'll find this a bit strange, but I kinda started internalizing this and began planning this enormous pity party. Oh, it was gonna be grand. Balloons. Hors d'oeurves. Cake. Champaign fountain (well, tequilla fountain). The whole works. I started preparing for it by going through the usual bits of "why me", "the universe hates me", "why can't I get a break (other than the one in my leg)" .
But after popping a vicodin and going to soak in the jacuzzi tub, I kinda had an epiphany. I realized the universe really was trying to send me a message. I just misunderstood it.
Ya see, for the past week, I've been all boo hoo-ish because the anniversary of the attack is coming up. As a matter of fact, Thursday was one year ago that I met the psychotic lunatic. For some stupid reason, I went through all the old emails between us, and was once again trying to figure out why the attack happened. I was sinking low and hating everything life had to offer.
I realized that I was focusing so hard on those things and forgot to appreciate all I had accomplished. That I had relearned how to walk and was even starting to do a somewhat scary jog. I wasn't recognizing all that was going right in my life. I think the universe decided to bitch slap the shit out of me, put me back on crutches, and give me a reality check.
I'm having to remember all the things I struggled through and how much I was taking things for granted again. Especially the ability to walk. And at least this time, it will probably be only about 6 weeks on crutches. I know I'll walk again, so I can do this. And between you and me, I probably needed this wake up call. Things weren't as bad as I was feeling. I do think I had a right to be a little down in the dumps facing the anniversary of everything. But I was allowing the blues to go too deep and not celebrate all the achievements I had made.
Yeah, this wake up call could be for the best. (Still, couldn't it have just been a twisted knee and off my leg for 2 or 3 days so that I didn't have to cancel my LA vacation?) Just kidding, universe. Just kidding. No more examples of how bad things can really be. Please!