Close But No Quite

The appointment went well today. I'm exhausted and will post pictures and details tomorrow.

I'm not walking yet but I'm literally, actually, taking baby steps.

Once again, Kevin made me laugh right out loud in an uncomfortable moment. That is the highlight of my day.

The doctor was testing my foot for range of motion, feeling, and blood flow. He asked me if I was having any pain and I said "No, and I'm not flirting, but it feels good."

In his best Ross Geller voice Kevin exclaims "I'm sitting Right Here! Oh my God!"

We'll talk tomorrow poppets. I am worn out tonight. Your thoughts etc. worked and I'm grateful.

Sixteen Hours

In sixteen hours I will learn if I will walk again. That sounds so melodramatic but it's true. They could very well say "Not yet." And I will be crushed and frustrated.

I'm choosing to believe that I Will get to walk tomorrow though. I have to. Mind & body connection is important and I think it helps. I have been willing the bones to mesh, the body not to reject the bionic parts, and the nerves & muscles to rejuvenate. I think it's working.

But I'm nervous.

What do I always say? Hope for the best, plan for the worst.

Worst case scenario: more days in the recliner and wheelchair. It could be worse.

Best case scenario: Showers. Driving. Normalcy.

Either way, I'll be fine.

Tick tock

Two Days

Well, a day and a half actually.

Please, Universe That Pushed Me Down, let me stand up again on Monday.

He Who Shan't Be Named

Channing Tatum's name is not to be said in our house. Mostly because I *might* have mentioned that he is OMFG attractive once.

Tonight Kevin brought home the newest edition of Entertainment Weekly. He tossed it on the counter and announced that he was going to just put it in the trash.

He didn't but he did do this:

FOUR

Only four days left until I'm walking again.

Send a thought, say a prayer, light a candle or whatever you feel right that my wish comes true.

I'm ready.

In Five Days I Want To...

I have five days of confinement...or captivity, as I've been calling it...left.  Next Monday afternoon I will hopefully have a walking cast.

I'm equal parts nervous and excited.  I feel like I'm healing and everyone seems to think so but there's always that little doubt in the back of your head.  I try to shout it down most days. 

Instead I focus on what I want to do first.  What I want to do is a bit ridiculous: I want to clean my house.  It has been such a challenge to live with "good enough" for me.  I've learned to vacuum & mop from the wheelchair, how to balance on one foot while wiping countertops or doing laundry.  It's always "good enough" and that makes me crazy.

And yes, I recognize that I'm not supposed to be doing any of the above but if you know me in reals, you know that simply sitting around is not going to happen.

I want to be able to just stand up and go to the bathroom without transferring to a wheelchair or walker and it taking ten minutes. (used to be fifteen)  I want to be able to stand in my pantry and closet and reach whatever I need.

I want to shower.  Oh, how I want to shower.

I want to drive to the coffee stand and see my friends.  I know they're going to make me cry and that's okay.

See? It's the simple things I want to do. 

The one thing I don't mind not doing is Grocery Shopping.  I am relieved to have Kevin do this.  Although he does it at 7:00 am and calls me multiple times, I am still happy to have him do it.  I think I have a few more weeks before I can walk that much anyway so that's a relief.

So countdown with me, won't you poppets?  Five days.  Five days will be one more step (pun intended) to having my normal life back.

And a shower.

Tough As Nails

Over the last 36 days (yes, I'm counting. shut up.) Kevin and I have had many bonding moments.  Some of them absolutely horrible and some so heartbreakingly lovely that I almost can't deal.  I won't share either of those because some things belong only between a husband and wife.

That being said, we have been the Mutual Admiration Society up in here.  This whole adventure has made us each appreciate the other more and more.  It's not just the big moments but the little everyday things that get noticed in situations like these.

For this, I am appreciative of this challenging time.  This horrible thing has made us slow down and recognize each other and where twenty years together has brought us.

The other night Kevin was telling me how his coworkers had asked about me and how they've been teasing him about having to be a Mr Mom.  Kevin said that he told them that it has been a change but really, not that bad.  "Because my wife is tough as nails.  Tough as nails, I say."

Know that I have an old fashioned husband that doesn't give compliments easily but loves fiercely.  That simple statement reduce me to tears.  Yep, tough as nails unless her beloved says something sweet. 

Heart Shattering

Watch "Linda Perry - Letter To God" on YouTube

Photo of the Day

Girl Little has her very first kitty:

The One Where I Rant

Weight loss ads never don't annoy me. The current top two are Valerie Bertinelli equating her weight loss to curing her depression and codependency. Then, this is super catty, we all know if Janet Jackson turned sideways she has junk in the trunk. As She Should. But the ad has her in that ridiculous back & white outfit and stance.

I am still feeling duped and annoyed about the swiffer wet jet. Although the ads imply that you don't need a broom prior to using it and Not So Much.

Pain meds, while a blessing, have been giving me early morning earworms. Not annoying songs like usual but songs like "Elves" from the Bare Naked Ladies Christmas album and an early Donna Summers song.

Whew. Now I feel better.

And otherwise, everything else is fine. (:-D

Everything is Different

Bff K has mentioned how strange it must be to have my life come full stop. It is indeed strange.

Nothing is the same. Not one single thing.

I have the same husband but he's the caretaker now.

I sleep in the same bed but only in a carefully arranged fashion with a row of meds on the bedstand and a walker nearby.

I'm unemployed, though I check in daily. I can't even write (well) right now.

I'm literally housebound. I can't drive...I can't even get *into* my truck. There are stairs outside that I can manage to go down but not UP.

I did figure out how to bathe myself.  I have a senior citizen bathroom with a tub bench and handheld shower wand.

I also had to re-pottytrain myself. Think about it: no weight bearing whatsoever on one foot. *fun*

HOWEVER

They found an antibiotic that I don't react to.

I don't have to cook.

I have enough track pants to wear, which is good because it will be months before I see jeans or wear both shoes.

My interior design ethic has changed to a minimalist style. No throw rugs or extra stuff that can be knocked over or tripped upon.

I've gotten the wished upon vacation time. So we fall back onto the adage of Be Careful What You Wish For.

I've had great care packages, cards, emails, posts, calls and visits.

I have my Droid that enables me to keep in contact with the world, including writing this while laying in bed.

Anytime that I get my woe-is-me on, I remind myself that our friend J, who is my age, is in a wheelchair since he was nineteen. He never complains and is always in a good mood.

So I tell myself "Suck it up, Buttercup. J does this every day."

Dispatch from the Recliner

It's day 16 of captivity.  Not that I'm counting, at all.

Today is my last day of bedrest.  I'm excited for this milestone even though it actually means eff-all because I still can't put weight on my foot or leave the house. It's the passage of time that I'm looking toward.  Now only three weeks until I hopefully get a boot then life returns to normal-ish.

I'm not quite weaned off the pain meds but I'm getting closer every day.  I will switch over to Tylenol soon.  That's my next milestone.  Mastering the Mad Max Scooter will be after that. 

Mad Max Scooter

I'm tired of television but that's okay.  I discovered Long Island Medium and for that, I am grateful for my broken leg.  I so want to be her friend.  I just enjoy her personality.

Before I fell we discovered Rob Dyrdek's Fantasy Factory on MTV.  He makes me laugh like no other.  I tweeted about the dodge ball episode that I was going to keep it forever for the Total Crap Day Cure.  Last week I was having a little pity party and I played that episode,  it totally worked.

I am missing out on my mother-in-law's birthday party.  This bums me out a little with the exception of she wants to go to the casino and eat crab.  This would make me crazy if I was a whole person, let alone a broken one.  Once again, I am glad for the brokenness.

I check in with work every day and that breaks some of the monotony.  It's a little weird to work remotely but I enjoy it mostly.  I think I'm going to miss that a lot when I do return to work.

Yesterday one of my coworkers asked about the get well flowers that they sent.  It was kind of a strange question as she followed it up with "Are they still alive?"  My boss was relaying the questions and even she was all "WTH?"

It turns out she wanted me to take a picture of my cast and the flowers.   I know, right?  What an odd request. I said "Yeah, I don't see that happening" and my boss more diplomatically said "She can't do that."

Now they're wondering when they can visit and that gives me such anxiety.  It feels overwhelming. 

Speaking of overwhelming, all the kids just came over and signed my cast.  Boy Little & Girl Little wrote their names, Boy Little #2 drew a house, Big #2 drew a sword and Big #1 drew flames. The Nephew drew the Batman logo.

Little Happys

So I have my big girl cast now. I chose purple and I really like it. I decided that I was going to make the best of this in little ways. Like choosing a purple cast.

I wanted a red scooter but I wasn't there to pick it up so it's blue. It's also a little bad ass. Imagine a scooter you kneel on then give it four wheels then make it into a ten-speed bike. I will take a picture later when I'm not laying flat on my back.

My stitches are out and the incisions are healing. I couldn't bear to look at it though. I will wait until it's healed. But I did discover I broke four bones, not three. *high five* My X-ray looks like they left random screws in my leg.

They found an antibiotic that I don't react to and that makes me absurdly happy.

Kevin has learned how to grocery shop. I'm proud to say that he got hit on in the bread aisle. He phoned me because he wasn't sure what happened.  "She was dressed up for grocery shopping. She was wearing high heels."

I caved and bought a swifter wet jet. I can use it from the comfort if my wheelchair pretty easily.  Strange that I've been mulling over getting one for months and now I need one.

I'm tired of television already. I've found myself sitting in silence, which would never happen before. But I'm not quite able to concentrate on a book yet. I have a big stack of books that I'm so looking forward to reading. I think in a few more days I will be weaning from the pain meds then I'll get my read on.

My father-in-law has been cooking for us, bless his heart. He's so happy to be needed. He brings me mail every day too. The sweetness is overwhelming.

That's pretty much everything. As awful as it is, there are a lot of little things to find happiness in.

What Have We Learned...?

Well, to state the obvious: breaking bones suck.  I've never done it before and when I did, woooboy, I did it big.  Two broken bones, a crack, and a dislocation.  Yea me.

Bellingham Fire Dept does not hire ugly guys.  Also, they're very funny.

Dansko's are wonderful shoes. However, the clog style is not for me.

You cannot give your expensive shoes to lovely xray techs.  It's against the rules.

Epidurals are wonderful...right until they wear off with no warning.

I still can't decide if a funny anesthesiologist is a good or bad thing.

I can't take the ortho surgeon's name seriously: Dr. Holstein

Nurses are gifts from God.

Kevin makes me laugh in the most horrible moments and I love him more for it. (picture getting your ankle relocated & casted)

Do whatever the nurses say and your life goes much easier.  This seems like a no-brainer but it's not.

Ask questions.  They like it when you show an interest in making things go smoother.

Don't try to help.  Helping actually hinders.  Hi, my name is Surely and I am a Helper.

Pain meds make me go in slow motion, which I suspect is actually just regular motion.

I am a Tyrannosaurus Rex. I have not great upper body strength so I'm using a wheelchair instead of a walker.

Take your meds. Don't try to be a hero.

I am a deadline oriented person.  "How many minutes until the meds kick in?"  "How much longer will this anesthetic last?"  "When do I get a big girl cast?"  Timelines comfort me.

Be careful what you wish for. I wished for life to slow down and the universe pushed me down the stairs.

My friends and coworkers are swell. They, too, fall into the category of Kevin of making me laugh in awful moments.  And filling my belly with yummy snackety goodness.

I'm sure there are more things we have learned but the pain meds are beginning to make me a little floopy so back to the recliner & remote for me.

I hope you are having a wonderful week, poppets.  Don't worry about me.  I'm fine.  I'm a Weeble, you can't knock me down.  Well, that's not true now, is it?

See? I told you: pain meds.

Please Pardon the Interruption

or any nonsensical stuff that might appear here over the next little while.

I managed to miss the last step on the stairs at work and broke my ankle.  Broke it ugly, eight screws and two plates ugly.  Bedrest for eight days ugly.

This kind of ugly:

I broke it on Monday morning, had surgery on Tuesday morning, came home Wednesday afternoon and now I'm chillin here at home.  Chillin being defined as stuck in bed or in the recliner with my new friends painkillers and remote.

Kevin is trying to just roll with this but he's overwhelmed.  He's just so used to me being around getting stuff done, that having the exact opposite is a little disconcerting.  I have  to concentrate just to eat.  Did I mention painkillers?  They make me itch and loopy.  I am just as frustrated that  I can't just get up and do something as simple as put the dishes away.

Oh, and I can't shower.  Yeah.  That's hot.  I did shower last night (against the rules) but it was such a process that it left me exhausted and frustrated.  I guess I'd rather be grimy. (such a lie)

I will hopefully get a big girl cast on next Friday afternoon then I can get around a little more and shower.  I still won't be able to walk  for at least six weeks from next Friday.

Right now I have a walker which isn't as awful as I'd imagined.  I don't think I could have done this with crutches.

I am getting one of those strange little scooters that you kneel on with the broken leg and push with the good leg.  

But I think if I get one of those, I need a helmet and elbow pads.  I can't even maneuver stairs with two good feet. 

Was That Only Fifteen Minutes?

I thought of Swistle just now when the Littles were over for one of their visits.

Being almost six-year-old triplets, there is always at least one talking.  Usually the boys take turns then Girl Little is always providing commentary.

We were talking about Easter Eggs & how does the Easter Bunny does his job and how he must have family to help and how we think Lucky ate an Easter egg last year and he also must have eaten all the Leprechauns because they didn't find any this year and What color does black and purple make and what time does Uncle Kevin get home and when are we going to do candymovienight and how many days until our birthday and when do we go back to school and how long is summer and what's for dinner and I would just make peanut butter & jelly for dinner, no I would make CEREAL and I would just eat Candy!  Who is that in the picture? he looks like Harry Potter, they are the SAME AS US!?! and will they come to our birthday? Our brother is at Canons and they're playing basketball but Daddys doing laundry and when are we going to color Easter eggs...........

In fifteen minutes.

Then they were gone.  And I need a nap.

Gosh, I love them so.

And the Father Is...

As I mentioned I have been working on our family tree.  And it's been complicated.

You don't even know.

Complicated.

I finally texted my little brother and asked him a few questions.  He asked the most questions when we were younger and he had actual conversations with my father before he died.

This was his answer:

"Good question.  I don't remember any of the details. It wasn't something we talked about.  I tried asking those questions when I was in grade school, the response was "none of my business" lol"

Sigh................

I swear I am going to eventually find a connection to the Manson family.

Today's mystery is my paternal grandmother.(because I have to break this sh*t down to avoid losing my ever-loving mind)  She died when I was five.  I can't find proof of her last marriage to my Grandpa Earl.  I find a marriage certificate with another man's name on it. 

My brother supposes that they chose to change names somewhere along the way. "Back then" he says people did that and it was easier. You just adopted a name and it "eventually" came legal.

Then he says "Uncle Jim had legal problems from Grandma not being honest with names."

Wha?????????????????

He was a product of her first husband and is my dad's half-brother.  While he changed his name legally, it means my cousins aren't quite as cousin-y as we thought. (to this I am SO relieved. You don't even KNOW.)

Then he suggested that I look into our mom's side of the family and I answered "Well, her first married names was Rogers".  *BAM*

Then he made a Mr Rogers joke.

I told him we were inches from being a Maury Povich episode.

Surely You Jest

I mentioned a few weeks ago that I wanted to change my pseudonym from Firegirl to something else.  I've thought about it and talked to BFF K who helped me decide on a new one.

My mother had something like a hundred siblings.  Again: my grandparents were married THREE TIMES EACH.

She had one sister who died from Leukemia shortly after I was born.  My mom has said that I am most like her. Her name was Shirley.

Shirley is such an old lady name though.

So we came up with an alternate spelling of "Surely", as in the title of this post.

In honor of my aunt whom I never met but who seems to walk through this life with me, Surely shall be the new pseudonym.

I like it very much. This one will I will most likely keep forever.  I hope you enjoy it.

(I will try to change it on twitter and pinterest as well so don't freak out if I disappear)

Third Time Is A Charm

I have been working on the family tree for my family.  It has been no easy feat, for sure.

Three out of Four GRANDPARENTS have been married THREE TIMES.

Three.

Times.

Three.

Grandparents.

Thank God Washington State has their records online or this would be impossible to track.  As it turns out, one of my grandmothers may have been married four times as I can't find record of her most recent marriage so I'm unsure if her husband went by a different name or what.

What else...

Both Kevin & my mothers have April birthdays.
Both mothers have the same names.

Kevin's mother nearly married a man with a name I'll say is "Squick"
My maternal grandmothers maiden name is "Squick"

My paternal grandmothers maiden name is the same as my Married name.

My married name (although common) is cited on a marriage license as witnesses. It *might* be a great uncle & aunt of Kevins.

There are lots of December and May weddings and birthdays, just like Kevin & I.

Oh, my great-grandfather was a racecar driver.  It was early NASCAR style racing but still. Kevin is an NHRA racer

It has been fun finding these little threads of similarity as I go.  I would definitely recommend it to anyone to research.  

Oh by the way, I've only been married twice.  (:-D

Therapy via a Recipe

I am sharing this from BFF C who made me laugh out loud with this: 

"I Don't Care About My Fat Ass Today" Mint Brownies

 Ingredients:

1 box of brownie mix (your choice--I used the one that was on sale at Haggen)

1 box of Girl Scout thin mint cookies

Directions:

Prepare brownies per the directions on the box.  

Take the cookies out of the package and put into a gallon size Ziplock bag.  Take a meat mallet and beat the crap out of the cookies until they are crumbled.  While you are doing this think of someone who pissed you off today.  I thought of that hippy Trader Joe's cashier who I wanted to drop kick to Blaine.  Congratulate yourself on not punching the person who made you mad.

Add cookies into brownie mix.  Stir to combine.  Cook according to package instructions but add 5 minutes to the cooking time.  

Yum, yum (and way better than going to jail...I'm sure).