I passsssed...

Yesterday, I met with my surgeon for a follow up.  Folks, it was NOT pretty.  I did get to see what had been pestering me for the last 4 days and yes, Jeff, I really did have blisters.  Good thing I got to do some Pioneer Day bonding with my fearless forebearers by sharing in some really crazy blisters.  I will not go into detail, but I am sure they are quite unlike the type that a new pair of shoes has given you in the past.  My incision looks "really straight," "great," and "perfect:" according to all the men in the room.  I will excuse those three, but my yellowish green skinny atrophy leg with a giant purplish gash running up the side didn't look anything like those words-- except straight-ish.  Once they opened the cast and laid my vulnerable weakling leg open to the outside world, they said that I could hop back on my crutches and go down the hall for an x-ray.  Excuse me please?  I should back up and say that my crutches skill are about nil thanks to my handy walker.  We had brought the crutches as a more mobile way to get from the front door of the office to the reception desk.... not as a mechanism for further injury.  Don't worry, I didn't embarrass myself at this time.  Next the surgeon looked at the films, maybe to see the perfection of plate and screw placement to appease his guilt over the crazy bruising and the blisters.  He then described my options for footwear for the next 6 weeks.  The boot, light and protective, utilitarian-- the army boot of post-op or the nimble lace up ankle brace which is much lighter weight and consists of breathable (thin) fabric that is laced like a converse all-star without sole or toe.  As an added benefit the lace-up has additional arch support of elastic and velcro.  Ack.  really?  Of course I chose the boot-- not the dr.'s choice, so he threw in three weeks of boot and three weeks brace.  He apparently doesn't get that my three children have little to no idea that there is anything wrong with me, let alone a broken leg of all things.  They are merely convinced that I am lazy and now own a super fun array of carts and stilts that only I get to play with.  The boot screams this extremity is extremely broken, please do NOT invade my new larger personal space bubble.  The ankle brace says, "Hey I am an athlete with a minor injury, but the coach says I'll be in a couple weeks."  The Dr. did not give in...
Next he talked physical therapy.  That was fast-- I still have stitches, you know.  He proceeded to put my right foot in and my right foot out and shake it all about.  By the time he was done doing the range of motion hokey-pokey, I was white as a ghost and going for the full blackout routine.  Backpeddle by the Dr. He brought me some M&Ms for my "blood sugar."  I was too busy with my deep breathing to tell him about the Strawberry Shortcake I had for lunch 30 minutes ago.  After that, I guess all my instruction was over.  I was asking him questions as he backed out of the door.
After all of that I didn't pass out, but didn't feel ready to brave the crutches.  Jeff went to get my meds and appointments worked out while I waited.  We had decided to use a wheelchair to get me safely to the car because I was still a bit wobbly.  Maybe I did have low blood sugar.  One M&M would make everything better it had a peanut for protein right?  One was all I needed to get my body into action.  I called down the hall to Jeff, I was either going to pass out or puke right now.  (Sorry, I had to use the nasty puke word because really the lure of the alliteration was too strong for any self-respecting English major).  Jeff called down to a nurse and she tossed him a garbage can as he ran towards my room where I proceeded to purge myself of both the candy and cake in a most violent fashion.  This was not my most endearing moment-- I could tell from Jeff's face, but I really did feel MUCH better.  I offered to jump on my crutches and make a run for it, but Jeff's nerves had HAD it with my antics-- he got the wheelchair.

A couple miles down the road he asking if that was embarrassing.  Um, nope.  Hopefully they forget me over the next 6 weeks.  I'll be sure to tip off the physical therapist to my special tricks.  Maybe I will develop some stamina in training so my next visit will restricted to dry humor and inconspicuous grimaces.

Yep, It's Broke.

State Tourney Part two. There were no trophies for Ben, but I received a load of custom stainless steel that I can always carry with me as a reminder of how fun baseball 2010 was. I now have a plate running along the outside of my fibula with 5 screws to put my leg together again. Apparently the twisting move I made to save Caitlyn from fracture ended up exploding the pieces of my bone hither and thither. What's to be done, cadaver paste to the rescue. The surgeon strategically squirted it into the empty spaces so my own bone has something to grab onto while healing for the next 7 weeks. Yes, as an added bonus I added more hardware and two weeks onto my recovery time. In addition to all the exterior ligaments on the inside of my leg I tore the ligaments that actually hold my tibia and fibula together. End result 3-4 inch bolt through the bottom of both bones to help the interior ligaments stitch back together. Even in the old Anatomy and Phys. days, I never fully appreciated the precarious interactions that enable walking....

So, thanks to my mom's generous set of new cotton sheets, I am rediscovering sleep, reading, suduko, crosswords, sleep, crochet, reading picture books, playing monopoly and phase ten all from the comfort of my bed. Good thing we upgraded to a new mattress in February ... I can feel the good karma coming around.

Thanks to both of my grandmothers for their walkers that have saved my dignity a few times and my sanity daily.

So if any of you have any great new sedentary hobbies or skills I should take up, just let me know.

Is it broken?

Ben's baseball team made it to the state tournament, which means more ball fields. They started yesterday bright and early and I packed snacks, drinks and a million thing for Noah and Caitlyn to do, so I could watch the game. When we pulled up it turns out that all adults have to pay to get into the ball park. It was only 2 dollars, but really paying to watch your own kid still rubs the wrong way. While the boys warmed up, Noah and Caitlyn started climbing the bleachers until Caitlyn cried because she was up too high and was scared to come down. Yes, those bleachers were super high and steep. I climbed to the rescue and started carrying her down. With only 3 or 4 rows left to descend, I slipped or something and fell off the side of the benches to the pavement with Caitlyn in my arms. Apparently I did some sort of tricky stunt double maneuver so that Cait didn't get hurt, but I did.

I looked down to see that my ankle was really out of whack. Like bones bulging in places they shouldn't. And that was just the right side, the left ankle was swollen to the size of a tennis ball. Great, two broken ankles.-- I guess I am a girl who will be able to finish her summer booklist. One the baseball moms drove me, Noah and Caitlyn to the emergency room, where Jeff met us. I ended up with only a major sprain on the left ankle, a broken right fibia, and torn ligments in the right ankle. Prognosis: another first-- surgery and at least 6 weeks in a cast.

Dead or Alive....

Well the blog, as Debi pointed out, is DOA and since I am no good at Facebook, I guess I can commit to this. As you all are busy, you can understand my excuses, but that doesn't mean that you will accept them. We have been embroiled in marriages, deaths and projects for sure, but I hope to do better and document what we have to show for our negligence.

Bear Lake, UT

The first annual family reunion was held last week. Even our grandma, who hasn't camped in over 25 years went. All of Jeff's siblings attended except two and that is still a lot of people. We snuck around the 1-15 construction zone and opted for a route that included a heavily guarded Evanston... can't let those illegal aerial fireworks into Utah. The result was only 2 1/2 hours instead of 3-4 hours. We set up our great new tent and our kids danced inside for joy.

Some highlights included:

• Laying on the ground at midnight finding satellites with our kids.
• Dutch oven desserts. Apple crisp with a full jar of caramel? Who thought of that?
• The perfectly laid campfire (by Jeff)
• The teenage girls who went to sleep instead of talking until 3am. They even sang the Princess Pat with me-- talk about letting your cool hair down.
• The Snipe Hunt hosted by my cool nephew Ethan. Caitlyn was scared of snipes the rest of the trip and my boys were seriously questioning the travel brochure and map because the history of Bear Lake was not right-- the way that Ethan told it.... Ha.
• Green Fire courtesy of our resident Chemist
• Showers that gave Jeff the 2x Boost in energy
• Bloomington Lake, the hike, the lake, the glacier, the granite and mostly the rope swing and my crazy soaked husband who whooped and hollered like a crazy person after finally giving in to his need to risk life and limb--- well comfort for sure.
• Minnetonka Caves. Stalagmites. stalagtites and bats. Yes, two tiny bats and 888 stairs. I am totally counting that as a workout. They look excited, no? Well, they don't know that the bats are tiny yet.
• La Beau's Shakes even though I opted not to have raspberry. I know its a travesty in Bear Lake, but Cait and I mangaged to muscle through our PB Cup Shake anyway.
• Bear Lake. I have never seen such blues mingled together. Gorgeous.

Of course there were a few lowlights:

• Cooking sloppy joes from scratch --12 batches instead of just using Manwich like my wise SIL suggested. It did taste better, but really everything tastes good camping. Despite swearing that I could NOT eat the stuff after smelling it for two days, I ate one anyway. Maybe the smoke cleared my senses.
• COLD... the nights, mornings, and the lake. Lucky for us our kids froze before we did, so we didn't look like party poopers.
• COLD yes, more of it, shivering in the night in my sleeping bag that is rated down to 20 degrees F. I found myself sometime in the night wondering if there was some secret instruction manual I should have read.
• Bathrooms-- backed up and overflowing... I imagine that was the quickest septic tank fix in the history of the park.
• Our cave tour guide.....dud.

Christmas 2009

Sleeping in until 8:00am on Christmas Morning? Yes, that's right, not a creature was stirring, not even a 4-year-old until the morning was waxed old. It's funny that every morning for two weeks the kids have been rising between 5:50 and 6:30 and on the most exciting day of the year, they forgot. This year we have what qualifies for us as a giant Christmas tree. We have been using a 5.5 ft. decorator tree that you might see in a small grouping. Our new tree is taller, wider and brighter, but I admit I love that little tree. I am not sentimental about a whole lot, but there are some good memories of that spindly tree that always made it seem homey and Christmasy in our apartments. We set up our big tree in the family room and basked in all 1500 lights. The kids would rather have had colored lights, so I bought some for the old apartment tree and we set it up in our small living room (the piano room without the piano). The kids decorated the whole thing with all their favorite ornaments and all their projects concocted this year in school. When we were all admiring the decor, Ben looked at the tree and said that it seemed bigger before and then wondered if we were poor back then. Yeah, we were pretty poor.... but really what is wrong with the tree? I love that little thing, it will take a long time for me to give it up.

When the kids woke up, they ran to the big tree and found that Santa had not come. They were all worried. Finally we remembered the small tree. Santa was so used to putting the presents there that he put them there again. It was fun to start out with a laugh. Everyone got something to love, my favorite was my new cookbook.... watch out kiddies mommy's going to get experimental with dinner.

We visited Jeff's family and jumped every time the phone rang, wondering if his little brother had gotten engaged yet. That guy... this is three years in a row of waiting for him to call on Christmas. We really enjoyed seeing our cousins and talking to Jeff's parents.

In Christmases past, we spent the day driving from one grandma to the next and then on to the greats, but this year was a lot quieter. What kid doesn't just want to stay home and play with their new toys? Ours really appreciated the down time. My parents came for dinner and were in no rush to go home. We enjoyed them so much. Grandpa was a great sport to play marbles, build legos and engage in dart tag with the kids.

GrammySitting

Last week marked my first turn "grammysitting." My sweet grammy is suffering from Parkinson's and her three amazing kids and husband consented to letting the grand-daughters in on the action of helping care for her. My first round seemed more like the old social visits, just a little slower and quieter. Some would rather not have to see the decline of someone they love, but having loved and lost my paternal grandmother less than six months ago, I feel different. I am relishing all the time I can have with my grammy because it might not be long before she doesn't want me to read to her or rub her hands or try to make her laugh with all my antics, all of which I can still do for her. On top of all that bonding, I got to sit with my grandfather after she went to bed and hear firsthand the stories I love about him. I love that he still loves grammy and remembers her strength even when she is weak. I don't know if I could conquer her brand of adversity with so much grace, but I appreciate the legacy already.