When I Grow Up, I'm Going to be Responsible. I Wonder When That Will Be?

Today it was like I woke up and decided I should go ahead and continue with undertakings that I have completely and utterly pushed aside during our lazy summer.

First, I went back to workout at the Class of Torture I started attending back in May. It's no mystery why this has been getting neglected. It turns out it's fairly impossible to do squats while on crutches. But, after six weeks in the heinous Aircast from hell, I got the all-clear to exercise as long as I wear an only-slightly-less-heinous, lace-up brace for six more weeks.

I decided to amp it up a notch and attend class at 5:30 in the a.m., too. Because 9:00 a.m. is just too reasonable. That. And, I hate taking my kids to the childcare at the gym - they always look at me like they're living through their own personal Sophie's Choice... and I haven't chosen either of them.

So. Now I'm tired. And, my stomach muscles hurt so badly I think I might cry if I have to cough later.

But, waking up at the crack of dawn and pushing my body to its physical limits wasn't enough for me. Oh no. I decided to crack back open the Rosetta Stone. I quit doing this because... it's hard... and I'm a baby. I didn't want to do my Spanish lessons! (Imagine me stomping my feet for emphasis when you read that.)

But, I RE.FUSE. to admit defeat. So, I sat down with my laptop and headsets, opened up Rosetta Stone, and I'm pretty sure it said to me, "Where the hell have you been?!" But, it said it in Spanish, so I can't be sure.

I yelled, "Algún día trabajarán en un restaurante," and "Sí, tengo un pregunta," a couple of times... and, then I started writing this blog post... and reading other blogs... and commenting on other blogs... and adding some stuff to pinterest... and I did start some laundry...

Yep. Responsible. That's what I am.

And... the bills start coming in...

This thing?

This thing cost $324.

Ya'll? I could make something very similar to this with some Ziploc baggies, shoe horns and a couple of strips of velcro.

I think this just became the most expensive pair of shoes that I've ever owned.

Walking, Anyone?

You all must be tired of hearing about this. Because I know I'm tired of talking about it.

So, looooong story short(er).

I don't know if I'm a fabulous healer or if you all have been praying. (Well, I know you've been praying because you've told me. Thank you. Truly.) But...

I'm walking!

Shawn and I used all the patience we had with this "wait and see" thing. So, we went back to the old home town (remember how the surgeon in our new town was on vacation for three weeks?), took full advantage of some of our friends, and got in to see the orthopedic surgeon. (This was an even easier decision to make since our kids are on their annual lake trip with their cousins, Shawn's folks and his aunt & uncle this week. Hol-la!)

The surgeon looked at the MRI and examined me. (*ahem* I might be the jumpiest patient that ever existed. He would touch my foot. I would fly three feet in the air. He would say, "Does that hurt?!" And, I would say, "Um... no." Seriously. Even I was embarrassed for myself.) He asked about my reconstruction when I was a twelve-year-old. (Turns out that business was cutting edge twenty-five years ago. Oh. That just made me sad to think I was twelve twenty. five. years. ago.), and said this:

The tendon is where it should be and is healing well. (That was my misunderstanding. The tendon probably *snappped* around the bone when I fell... but popped back. Or who knows what popped in there. I'm not working with a paragon of body parts here. It could have been anything.) I have an unusual amount of bruising (I just like all the pretty purple, blues and greens - and I think more is better!) and I am feeling nerve pain in places where I shouldn't. (Seriously, Ali? Must you always be unique?) So, what I need to do is this-kind-of-therapy and that-kind-of-therapy, wear the air splint (that I loathe), and come back in two weeks.

We left, I confirmed with Shawn that the only precaution/babying that the doctor suggested was the splint. Things might hurt a bit, but I wasn't going to damage it further by trying to use it or put weight on it (which, to add to my own personal brand of anxiety, is exactly what caused the extensive damage when I was a kid). Shawn agreed and I spent the afternoon trying to walk on it.

It's ugly and lurching. I kind of look like Frankenstein. But, it's walking!

Now. How long to you think it will take Shawn before he realizes I've been faking this whole thing just to get out of doing laundry?

Was There A Head Trauma Involved That I've Forgotten?

So. I've lost my mind.

Not only am I confusing Shawn for my high school boyfriend, I missed an appointment last week. Just flat up didn't go. It was in my calendar. I didn't go. The sweet woman was nice enough to reschedule with me for today. I got there at 2:45. For my appointment at 3:45.

What is wrong with me?!

I called Shawn and told him how weird it is that I've lost my memory. I told him, "I don't feel different. And, I'm kicking ass at Hangman on my phone."

His response? "Well, that's a good piece of life. Go ahead and hang your hat on that one."

I don't feel like he's being very sincere.

Medical Update(s)

My in-laws brought dinner last night. Holla! I made Lulu show Shawn and my mother-in-law the "bite" on her knee. The way they both reacted (neither of them being prone to over-reaction... EVER) made me want to flip out just a little bit. Instead. We ate dinner. :-O

But, then Shawn took Lulu to the walk-in clinic. (Can I tell you how happy Shawn is that he's the only healthy member of the family, so he gets to take care of the rest of us?) *Grossness Alert* When they got back to the exam room, the P.A. took the band-aid off of Lulu's bite. It was so swollen that her skin ruptured - like two inch-long tears. Shawn said pus just poured out of it.

Give me a minute. I have to go vomit.

Okay. I'm back. Diagnosis? She got a bug bite that got bacteria in it (aka, cellulitis). The P.A. said it's always worse on kids around their joints because they move so much and there is so much blood flow to the area to help it spread. I don't care how you describe it. I'm just gonna need you to fix it!

She's gave us some antibiotic. Lulu came home with a circle drawn around the swelling. If the swelling got bigger than the circle, we had to go back to the doc. But, this morning, it's already drastically diminished in size. Praise God!

And, here's the other awesome part. Shawn said Lulu... absolutely unfazed by any of it. That's my tough girl! He said she just wanted to hurry through it all so she could have the cookies out of the vending machine he promised her when they were done. Sweetest father/daughter team ev-ah.

                                                                                   

Now the update on me... me me me me me me me...

We have an amazing friend. A-maz-ing. (I won't call you out by name, friend, because I don't think you would like that. You're welcome.) But, people? A.maz.ing. Above and beyond. And, conveniently... a doctor. He's shown my films to I-don't-know-how-many-doctors, and talked to his friend - the ankle surgeon. The prevailing opinion...

Let it heal three weeks and see where we stand. (bu-dum-cha! Thank you, folks. I'll be here all week.) We'll see if maybe, just maybe, this little ol' tendon of mine might heal itself. (Heal, tendon! *said in my best Southern Revival Preacher voice while flat-hand-smacking my ankle - well, no... not smacking... that would hurt... how about... waving vigorously*)

Three weeks? Um. That's when the ankle doctor up here gets back from vacation. I already have an appointment scheduled with him.

Sometimes coincidences like that freak me out just a little bit.

So. That's where we are. I'm off to figure out how to live life on crutches... with a smile... because, remember? It could always be worse.

I Don't Like to Complain. BUT...

...well, where should we start?

How about the car?

It started with the popped tire. But, that's okay. I was in front of a Firestone.

Then I locked my keys in my car - again. While a wildfire was raging all around our house. And, this time the "top window" (aka, sunroof) wasn't open. I had to pay a guy to break into my car. And, you know? He may work for a "business" of "locksmiths," but he's still really good at breaking into cars and that's just really disconcerting.

I tweeted all of that and posted it on Facebook.

(See? That's why you should follow me on

Twitter and Facebook, too. Just sayin'.)

Then I got a ticket for having an expired license plate registration - the renewal for which was sitting on the desk at home. (So Shawn told me after I got the ticket.) Awesome-sauce.

But, I was too busy to blog about most of that because I was getting the kids through their last days of school and getting all of us ready to depart for our annual Memorial Day family gathering.

And, well, you might have heard what happened while we were there... And, y'all? I'm trying to be a good sport. But, THIS. REALLY. BITES. I mean. Have you ever thought about how you would put your underwear on if you couldn't put any weight on your left foot? Have you?! It involves your bare butt having to touch stuff.

Thus, began the journey of physical catastrophes for the Johnsons.

The very day we returned from the Emergency Room in Austin, Elizabeth shrieked with pain if you so much as tried to tuck her hair behind her ear. Well, I absolutely know what that means when a kid has been spending every waking moment in a swimming pool. Swimmer's Ear. We tried to treat her with the home-remedy of 1 part white vinegar/1 part warm water in her ear for five minutes twice a day. That did... absolutely nothing. The night we returned home, Shawn went to check on her before we went to bed ourselves. She was whimpering in her sleep. So. heartbreaking.

So, off to the pediatrician's office we go the next day. Me on crutches. And, no pain medicine because then how could I drive?

Subsequently, this update:

The Johnson boys were walking around pretty cocky about their grasp on physical well-being. Until... Spencer jammed his thumb so badly riding his bike that it swelled up to twice its size.

Ok. That's it. What more could possibly happen? Oh, funny you should ask.

This morning Elizabeth was putting on her shorts and something on the inside of her knee caught my eye. It was a huge boo-boo. I'm sorry. Did I say boo-boo? I should have said abscess. With red, puffy swelling about an inch and a half around the infection. Awesome. Let's just say she wasn't a fan of me knocking the top off of that pus scab and dousing it with hydrogen peroxide for about 15 minutes.

Oh, yeah. And, then? The ankle surgeon we were hoping to see here in town? On vacation for the next three weeks.

All these things? They led to this update this morning:

So. That's it. My big complaining post. Thissucksthissucksthissucksthissucks.

I'm done.

Now. Off to find some silver linings, some half-full glasses, some this-too-shall-pass. Because, somewhere? There is someone whose health is being threatened with things that won't mend. Worse. There are people whose baby's health is being threatened with things that won't mend.

So, this cross of mine? Not quite so big after all. (But, I do need to figure out how to pay that ticket. Because, I'm not going to be able to run very far if they come after me with a warrant for my arrest.)

I've Seen Who I REALLY Am. And, It's Not Pretty.

Just a little tip: If you don't want to be stalked by every bedridden invalid on Facebook, you should set your privacy settings very high! Be warned.

And, if you have the misfortune of actually being one of my friends on Facebook? The chances are very good that I have stalked you. And, if I haven't, I will soon.

So. To be clear. This is what I do with my confinement:

• I learn Spanish.
• I look through your pictures on Facebook.

Now you know.

My conscience is clear. Confession is good for the soul.

Now. I have to go. Tengo que hacer acosando.

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...

I'm going to live! Hooray!

Checking in! Thanks for all the laughs, thoughts and prayers. So far we know that my ankle is not broken. I have a splint and crutches for the time being. When I get home, I'll see some doctors to see if I have torn ligaments, tendons or just a bad sprain.

For those of my friends who have know me for a lifetime, this IS my bad ankle. Poop. For those of you who don't know my medical history, I had my ankle reconstructed when I was 12-years-old. If I was bound to take out an ankle on vacation, you KNOW it would be that one, right?

Anyhoo, as much fun as a football-team-worth of morphin is in the moment, it has a tendency to make you feel horrible as it wears off. Double-poop. So, I'm off to let my awesome family wait on me hand and foot a little longer. (And, speaking of them... I'll put my family up against any family for BRINGING IT when the chips are down. You have never seen a family rally in the moment like mine did today. I really, really love you guys. Thank you for the ice, for the support, for keeping the kids calm and entertained, for running errands... well, for everything.)

As always, I'll keep you up to date with all the over-sharing I can!!

Guess What?

We're on vacation. I fell. While walking. Awesome. My ankle? *SNAP* I'm in an ambulance. Blogging. Awesome. Pain drugs? Good. I'll keep in touch...