The News Could Be Worse...

Like. I guess I could need my foot amputated. I don't. So, there's the silver lining.

The facts we know so far? I tore a tendon. And, it took a jaunty little trip around to the "other" side of the fibula (or tibia - I can't keep those bones straight). Thus, the "snap" heard round the world 20-yards away.

Unfortunately, this will require just a touch of surgery. We've been told that, as far as ankle surgeries go, this is a relatively simple one. Yay?

That's that. I'm sitting on my a$$ while Shawn works his off taking care of the kids and me. The pain meds and anti-inflammatory drugs they gave me make me so zoned-out and sleepy, I think I may have drooled a few times.

So, don't expect blogging gold from me. I'm only one (very medicated) person. And, now I've got a bum wheel.

But, I do have one cute anecdote to share. Spence and I were sharing a quiet moment sitting on the couch yesterday morning (the morning after "the incident"). I asked him, "Were you worried yesterday or did everyone do a good job of letting you know I would be okay?"

His answer?

"Yeah. They told me about every ten seconds."

We're all just moms and dads at heart, son. It's best to figure that out now...