Well, it’s been an interesting few weeks. From 22 degrees to in the 80s. This fall weather has been nice. But life, just like the weather, can be unpredictable. Sunday morning after church I was minding my own business. Not riding in fast police cars, or jumping out of planes, or zip lining in Costa Rica 70 stories above the ground on the side of a volcano. I was just walking across the parking lot.
It had been my turn to bring breakfast to small groups, and I had a few mini-cinnamon rolls left in the 13x9 Pyrex dish. So that dish was tucked under my arm. I honestly can’t tell you what was in the right hand — oh, I guess it was my keys. I had so much “stuff” I was on my first trip to the car. I really need my own pack mule on a Sunday morning. Can I rent one?
Anyway, Just like the intro of Miss Congeniality where Sandra Bullock is a very strong, proud female (tom-boy) FBI agent who has just been assigned to go undercover in a beauty pageant … is walking in heels and down she goes.
Well, none of those other descriptive words apply except for … "and down she goes." I didn’t even have on high heels … I am DONE with those things!
But before I knew it, my ankle went snap to the side and in slow motion I’m thinking, ‘Here I go again.’ And out in the middle of the parking lot, there is nothing to grab on to. Of course I scream. Loud enough I’m sure the neighbors thought a tornado siren had just gone off.
I really feel like the Pyrex dish, as well as my body slid across the asphalt lot, as if it had been slick ice. But my clothes weren’t even torn. The pads of my hands were sore and the left knee sore … and the offending ankle felt like it was still there, but not feeling well. I laid there face down for a few seconds to make sure everything was still attached, and then managed to roll over and sit up. Not a soul had heard my scream. I’m sure one of my guardian angels caught the Pyrex dish because it didn’t break, and the lid stayed on. So hubby got to enjoy the few leftovers … (later!)
I finally saw two ladies walk into the glass foyer area so I started waving my arms like I was landing several planes to get their attention.
That did it. I heard the words screamed, “Preacher! Donna is sitting in the parking lot on the ground.”
So the few that were left hanging around had to join me in the parking lot. You know how sore hands, arms, legs, ankles feel when you need all of those parts to help you get up?
I finally got myself up, not very ladylike, but I was up. Hubby hobbled me to the car and I knew that right foot was not going to safely drive my car home. So I rode on the passenger side with it propped up on the dash. Thanks to good church people who helped shuttle my husband around.
I’m sure it was almost comical to see my sore left knee where all my weight had landed, try to get up a step while the right ankle was protesting. I considered just saying, “Take me home Lord. None of these parts are ever going to work again.”
But my persistent hubby, and patient church members wouldn’t give up. Inside the house, we propped everything up, iced it, ibuprofened me and I sat there.
It wasn’t getting any better, so I agreed we’d better go to the ER. Not only was everything, everywhere hurting, but the bottom of my foot hurt so bad (arch area) I couldn’t put any weight on it. Never have I felt that before with a turned ankle.
I am so thankful for NARMC. I’m also thankful the ER was calm and I was back with the experts very quickly. (I’m sure there’s a code word for a crazy lady in the waiting room. Get an exam room ready stat!). Wait … let me be totally honest. The wheel chairs you can borrow at the ER door are not ‘normal’ chairs. I thought hubby would kill me for sure trying to get me to the ladies’ room. I feared my foot would hit a wall and that would be my demise! He learned the tricks … and they are escape proof for someone sitting in them with a sore knee and messed up ankle. (Just sharing what we learned! LOL)
I got to meet some students and very nice professional health care workers and we had a good time. Of course by then, just laying there, my foot didn’t hurt at all. The ibuprofen had kicked in and I wasn’t trying to dance or anything — so all was good. So I felt really goofy when my “pain level” was “OK.”
I know he was thinking … then why are you here? Football not exciting enough today? Just kidding he was very nice and agreed as long as I wasn’t moving it, we were good.
Well, the conclusion of this story can’t be written yet. Just like our lives. God isn’t finished with us until that last breath or last heartbeat has been taken. No broken bones (YEA) but could be ligament damage. So crutches and a boot for a week, will let us know if they are damaged or healing.
So lest you think the life of a pastors’ wife is perfect … just spend some time with me. I may have been on the ground and screaming without catching anyone’s attention — but I was never alone. So many things could have been worse — including being run over! Ouch!!! Or landing in the broken glass of my Pyrex dish with mini-cini’s on the ground.
At least in one of my previous injuries, I learned how to drive very well with my left foot. I almost laughed at how rusty I was leaving the neighborhood this morning. I felt like a 14 year-old-driver in training. Lurching and then dumping everything on the floor with the brakes!
I do get a fearful feeling it could happen again — at no fault of my own. But I refuse to live in fear. I’ll just keep ibuprofen handy as well as this boot!
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