Friday, December 26, 2008

In All My Grace

I didn't imagine that I'd be spending the vacation day I took, on the day after Christmas, completely incapacitated and knocked out on narcotics. But, in all of my grace, that's exactly where I ended up.

Christmas day began strong. Liam woke around 7 AM, and once he figured out what lay beneath the tree for him, he dropped his precious blankie and stuffed monkey and took off at a run. We made breakfast and hot cider. Grandma and Grandpa came to join in the festivities. Both of my children absolutely cleaned up and Liam was practically drunk on play by 10 AM.

We ate dinner, as most people do, at mid-afternoon. The whole family was playing or lounging, full and happy, by 4 PM. Then, IT happened.

I learned many important things on Christmas Day, but probably the most important would be that while I can walk down the stairs and talk on the phone OR I can walk down the stairs and hold a can of soda, apparently I cannot do both. It was all a blur really, I was headed down the stairs to inform by husband, with hand gestures, that he needed to tend to a crying Quin, because I was on the phone. I was up, and then the next thing I knew I was down. Very down. And in A LOT of pain.

I tried, through screams, to inform my dad on the other end of the line that, "I have to go...I fell." I quickly hung up the phone, writhing in pain. (He didn't get that message, however, and called the house a few minutes later...I can only imagine what he must've been thinking!) My husband heard the commotion and quickly came running, clearly unsure what to make of my screams.

"What do you want to do?" he asked. "Go to the ER?"

"YES!" I managed through near tears now. I needed the searing pain to come down, just a bit, before I could even think about making it out to the car.

Fortunately, Nate's parents were at our house at the time, so we were able to make a quick exit without having to worry about the children. On the car ride to the hospital, I noted that the pain was worse than any contraction I've ever had. And I wasn't kidding.

Nate ran into not one, but two random people he knows at the hospital. In the emergency room. On Christmas Day. Go ahead, try and figure that one out.

I learned that I was the third person to come through the ER who'd fallen down the stairs that day. Nate joked with the records person that it was a shame it didn't happen in a more exciting fashion. I seethed. I was in ridiculous pain, but apparently was not very original. I oscillated between laughter and tears.

X-rays were taken, no broken bones. Hallelujah. But I do have a seriously sprained ankle. And one gigantic knob to go with it. I'll spare you the actual picture. More than one person mentioned that they "heard" sprains hurt more than breaks. Not sure if they're just trying to make me feel better about being a whimp, or if it's really true.

I did learn a couple more interesting lessons, however. The first would be that no matter what time of year, it is always important to keep your legs shaved and toe nails painted. And, according to the guy who taught me to use crutches (yep, they have people around to teach such things), I have disproportionate arms. Sigh.

And that was my Merry Christmas. Started off with a bang, and ended with a sprain. Leave it to me to be so graceful.


JennymayWood said...

So sorry to hear about the sprain. I will agree though it hurts a lot I fell down the stairs while pregnant last year and ended up in a walking cast. Try to get as much help with the kids as possible. Milk it!

mom24boys said...

Couldn't agree more...MILK IT! Hang in there. sweet friend!