Fractured Fairy Tails

Last Wednesday, with a day off, and about a thousand things to do, I fell in a parking lot pothole and broke my right ankle. A good story, huh? My personal story is that I was water-skiing on Lake Tahoe and fell trying a swan-like maneuver. Richard Dean Anderson (a.k.a. MacGyver) saw the whole thing and dove in to save me. Yes...that's my story and I'm sticking to it.

It's been almost a week since my skiing accident, and I've learned a few things.

I sat in the unpaved parking lot for quite a while. My pothole and I were right off the road. It was a busy street, and many people passed by. Some even waved. Only one woman stuck her head out of her car to ask, "Are you all right?" Before I had the chance to gulp out, "I don't know!" She drove off. I sat there, knowing that I couldn't get up and not believing this was really happening...getting my purse back together, and the couple of books I'd had in my hand.

With no one offering to help, I considered calling 9-1-1. That is... if my cell phone wasn't dead. I pulled it out of my purse. Praise the Lord! It wasn't dead. How unusual. It always seems to be dead when I really need it, or when I'm in the middle of an important conversation. I decided 9-1-1 might be a little over-dramatic. I called the last place I had been to...my mechanic. He came over and we struggled to get me into the car. It was not a pretty site, but he was very sweet and kind. His name was Robbie. He drove me to the emergency room and made sure I got into the triage area. It turns out his wife worked at the same hospital I did.

Observation time...Moral of the story?
I don't say this to feel sorry for myself--altho I must admit there have been moments--but I wonder how may would have stopped if I had been a "10"? I suspect that there would have been many, and that I would not have been there so long. But, alas, not being a 10 means you can't always count on the kindness of strangers.

Because of the type of fracture that I have, I can't put any weight on my ankle. This is not good news. It will take work and time to tone up enough to use crutches with any expertise. It also makes even the most simple of tasks--like going to the bathroom--a major, life-changing experience. Having worked trauma on and off for the last 30 years did not prepare me for this. How many times have I taught crutch-walking to recently impaired patients? This week, I have been saying my speel to myself. Sometimes it helped me to focus, but it didn't help my lack of coordination, or my pain, or my lack of going to the gym everyday when I had the chance. My 76-year-old mother has helped me through this. Thank goodness we can laugh our way through this. Many friends have come to my aid, too.

Lesson Learned--or How does this apply to real life?
Several things....
1. I'm going to have to concentrate on the family a little more when I give my discharge instructions. They need to know that they really need to be around for a week or so, and just what they'll have to do. Emphasize safety.
2. The pain thing I already knew. I believe in medicating my patients to the max that I can. (My patients are usually just out of the operating room.)
3. Life experiences makes you a better anything. You don't know until you've been through it. An aha---Aha!--So that's why the Lord lets us experience these difficulties...so our help can be real...our sympathy can be real...and so we'll know when to shut up.

Huge oak tree captured on a beautiful drive to Amite, Louisiana. There is an old, falling-down house just behind it. It's used a lot in paintings by local artists.

Putting it out there...

Is it possible for a 51-year old to make significant changes in her life? I've spent years just tying to glide through. I'm afraid I've wasted my entire life. I've done some good things...I'm a nurse--and by definition, I've made a difference in some of the lives I've touched.

Hmmm....I read today that you don't have to censor yourself on a blog, and that's the beauty of it. You can just put it out there. You don't really know who is going to read it, or if anyone is...and that's freeing. You can let go of it. It's therapy. This is the idea espoused by A'ilina Laranang, whose blog, Portrait in Linen was written about in The Independent Weekly (No. 91 06.08.05) It's an interesting theory, and I'm willing to try it out.

Getting started is a bit intimidating, but I can do this. I have to do this.
Well, this is tentative, but I'm going to press the publish button.