The Accident

She’s up, she’s down, she’s up, she’s down, she’s up…

Uh-oh. Holy mackerel, is she ever down.

And not just in weight.

I have indeed lost a few pounds. But there is more down to the story.

Four weeks ago, I was doing what we all do, especially us Type-A personalities. I was moving way too fast and I was not paying one bit of attention to what I was doing. My mind was racing ahead to the zillion other things I wanted to do that afternoon. So when I went to put out the dog, I did not notice as I stepped into a coil of wire that acted like a noose around my ankle.

To my bewilderment, the cement I was about to crash onto came rushing up to my face. I slammed down like an anvil in a cartoon. My glasses cut my face, my knees, shins and hands were cut and scraped. I heard the crunch as the bone in my upper arm shattered.

I have to say, even I realize I have really wacky priorities. My first thought was “I hope nobody saw me”. Then I felt to make sure all my teeth were there. Check.

My next thought was for my little dog, who had flown out of my arms when I fell. Sadly, she is no Lassie. She did not sit alongside my broken body until help came. I think if she could speak, she would have shouted “woo-hooooo!” as she took off gleefully down the street. Actually, now that I think of it, I am certain she did shout “woo-hoooo!” in her little doggie voice.

When I tried to get up to get her, the pain was astonishing. I croaked her name and, naturally, received no reaction. She continued to frolic through the neighbor’s shrubs. I swear she turned and smiled at me. When I pictured her teeny, adorable little body being squished flat by a speeding car, adrenaline helped me drag myself up on the trellis. I finally caught up with her two houses down and scooped her up. My right arm was hanging uselessly at my side and throbbing steadily. Blood was dripping down my face and my hands and knees were keeping time with the agony in my arm.

I recognized this was very, very bad.

Long story short, I fractured my right humerus in four places. I had surgery to repair it a week later and I am now the proud owner of a plate, multiple screws and a hideous six inch long incision in my previously unsullied shoulder. The past weeks have flowed by in a wash of pain, sleeplessness, worry and general distress.

I can’t drive, I just now can put on my bra by myself, I can’t put a ponytail in my hair. I am completely housebound and dependant on everyone else for the most basic of necessities.

On the plus side, I have been overwhelmed by love and concern from everyone I know. I have received flowers, cards, food, calls and visits that have humbled me as I see people go out of their way to make me feel better. I never could have imagined such an outpouring. It has been a true gift that has added its own kind of healing.

Time marches on. The steri-strips are all off now, revealing the thick, ropey, Frankenstein-like scar. Physical therapy continues at home. I am willing myself to drive soon and to try to get back to some semblance of normalcy.

I have missed the blog and my connection to all of you. Hopefully, I am back now.