Have you ever had one of those days, weeks, or even months when you know you should just stay in bed and pull the covers over your head? It’d be safer for you and everyone else near you. Well, that’s exactly how I have felt this entire spring and summer. Although I’m not superstitious, I have felt as if some unknown cosmic force has had it out for me in a big way: as if I had become a gigantic accident magnet. Seems a bit of an exaggeration you might think? Well, let me tell my tales of woe.
It all began on a lovely May evening. We had gathered with friends from our church in a large, fancy restaurant for an over priced, under-whelming meal to honor this years laity person; that person who had gone the extra mile over the past year for our church. Honoring our friend was absolutely the high point of the entire, long, drawn-out evening. My husband, Bob, our friend, Karen, and I were walking through the parking lot, laughing and joking, talking of stopping for ice cream on the way home to fill the void in our stomachs. All of a sudden my right ankle turned under me and with a loud squeal I began to plummet toward the ground. Thankfully my husband had been holding my hand and this prevented me from falling flat on my face. OUCH! It took both Bob and Karen to get me back onto my feet, or rather my foot, and to a near by car on which I could lean.
It all began on a lovely May evening. We had gathered with friends from our church in a large, fancy restaurant for an over priced, under-whelming meal to honor this years laity person; that person who had gone the extra mile over the past year for our church. Honoring our friend was absolutely the high point of the entire, long, drawn-out evening. My husband, Bob, our friend, Karen, and I were walking through the parking lot, laughing and joking, talking of stopping for ice cream on the way home to fill the void in our stomachs. All of a sudden my right ankle turned under me and with a loud squeal I began to plummet toward the ground. Thankfully my husband had been holding my hand and this prevented me from falling flat on my face. OUCH! It took both Bob and Karen to get me back onto my feet, or rather my foot, and to a near by car on which I could lean.
I won’t go into all the icky details, I’ll just say my foot was swollen and painful and I felt completely helpless, and more than a little embarrassed. Needless to say, we did not get ice cream that night. The next month or so involved using crutches that were too small for me, using my late mother-in-law’s walker which gave my husband ample opportunity for “good humored” joking at my expense; and moving on to using a cane Karen loaned me. My world consisted of pain, hobbling, more ice packs than I can count, more pain, and of course more “good humored” jokes. My gardening involved carrying a bucket of weeds in one hand and a cane in the other, limping at a pace that would make a snail look like speedy Gonzales. Every dip or lump in the ground, every tiny stone or stick was to be avoided at all costs. They were another accident just waiting to jump out and attack me if I wasn’t vigilant...I was vigilant.
That is, until another lovely evening around the middle of June when Bob, and I went to our youngest granddaughter’s soft ball game. I had hobbled across the lumpy, bumpy ground with cane in hand and was sitting in a chair chatting with friends—completely minding my own business. When out of the blue, a yellow orb whooshed from somewhere behind me, performed an unexpected curve in mid air according to witnesses, and without my seeing it, slammed into my forehead. WHUMP! OUCH! As usual, I gave a shocked cry, which drew the attention of all around me—not too embarrassing. An ice pack was gotten, and I was informed that I was actually bleeding; my glasses bit into the bridge of my nose. Really?! I was just minding my own business. I wasn’t even walking. The worse part of this tale of woe: it was our oldest granddaughter who had lost control of the ball, while playing with a friend somewhere behind me. She had yelled look out—I didn’t hear. Talk about Grandma guilt. So, when the game finally ended I hobbled back to our car with cane in one hand, and the other covering the egg a goose left on my forehead. As could be expected my eyes and forehead turned into a rainbow of colors: purple, green, and yellow.
That is, until another lovely evening around the middle of June when Bob, and I went to our youngest granddaughter’s soft ball game. I had hobbled across the lumpy, bumpy ground with cane in hand and was sitting in a chair chatting with friends—completely minding my own business. When out of the blue, a yellow orb whooshed from somewhere behind me, performed an unexpected curve in mid air according to witnesses, and without my seeing it, slammed into my forehead. WHUMP! OUCH! As usual, I gave a shocked cry, which drew the attention of all around me—not too embarrassing. An ice pack was gotten, and I was informed that I was actually bleeding; my glasses bit into the bridge of my nose. Really?! I was just minding my own business. I wasn’t even walking. The worse part of this tale of woe: it was our oldest granddaughter who had lost control of the ball, while playing with a friend somewhere behind me. She had yelled look out—I didn’t hear. Talk about Grandma guilt. So, when the game finally ended I hobbled back to our car with cane in one hand, and the other covering the egg a goose left on my forehead. As could be expected my eyes and forehead turned into a rainbow of colors: purple, green, and yellow.
But wait! My tale is not yet finished. Today is September 1st, Labor Day, unofficial end to summer, and here I sit with foot elevated and wearing a lovely purple cast. Yes, that’s right…a cast. I broke my ankle. How did this happen you ask? Again I won’t go into the icky details, let’s just say I was sick—very sick—and about 3:00 am on Thursday, August 21st I fainted while on route to the bathroom, somehow breaking three bones in my ankle. The magnet just keeps getting bigger and bigger. I now use crutches that are the right fit, (adorned with cheery blue, pink and purple under arm and hand cushions. A gift from my husband for my comfort) I wear a purple cast, and thankfully today am not in as much pain as yesterday. My end of summer plans…right out the window; the weeds in my gardens mock me daily. My poor husband has been working tirelessly taking care of me, plus doing his regular job. Not anything how we envisioned the last weeks of our summer to be.
Now you have heard my tales of woe. I’m sure there are life lessons strewn about these catastrophes, such as, if I get hurt get x-rays and don’t assume it’s sprained. Stay hydrated if possible while sick; and appreciate the incredible husband who has been my nursemaid during this time. Summer is unofficially over, school is only 2 days away, at least in our neck of the woods, and I am learning about life in a cast—hint: stepping onto a hard surface, such as laminate flooring without the boot you wear over the cast, is just like stepping onto ice…whoosh. It is now, have boot will travel!
Here’s to hoping for a much better autumn.
I wonder if I should stock up on bubble wrap...just in case?
Now you have heard my tales of woe. I’m sure there are life lessons strewn about these catastrophes, such as, if I get hurt get x-rays and don’t assume it’s sprained. Stay hydrated if possible while sick; and appreciate the incredible husband who has been my nursemaid during this time. Summer is unofficially over, school is only 2 days away, at least in our neck of the woods, and I am learning about life in a cast—hint: stepping onto a hard surface, such as laminate flooring without the boot you wear over the cast, is just like stepping onto ice…whoosh. It is now, have boot will travel!
Here’s to hoping for a much better autumn.
I wonder if I should stock up on bubble wrap...just in case?
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