Home Life

I ended up firmly ensconced in the guest bedroom. And, as much as my mind and heart wanted to be downstairs, my broken, sprained left ankle simply refused to cooperate. My weight while not as substantial as it used to be was still larger than two, OK, six or seven super models put together. Putting that weight on my “less damaged” ankle and the act of crutching around was showing itself to be less and less of an option. Luckily my mother-in-law who actually does have one of everything, presented me with a wheelchair. I could now wheel around banging into woodwork and practice for my role in Whatever Happened to Baby Jane.

On my arrival, my pets were super happy to see me. And in the manner of loved ones everywhere they immediately jumped on my ankles, repeatedly. Thank goodness for ice and pain pills, oh and elevation. However elevation required pillows. I started, by proxy, collecting pillows from every room in the house. I eventually ended up looking like I was being eaten alive by a extra fluffy muppet. But I was relatively comfortable. Well, except when my dogs tried to play King of the Mountain on the pile of pillows that I was putting my feet on. Dogs have no respect for splints and ace bandages, well except for as implements in a game of tug of war. By the way, never leave a loose end when re-wrapping ace bandages around your foot.

Now came the challenge of describing exactly where my stuff was that I wanted. It was rather like reverse charades. Of course I had to also take into account that my husband has a negative spot check for anything that he isn’t actually holding.
“My book and pen are downstairs on the coffee table.”
“I looked, they aren’t.”
“Please look again, I’m sure I left them on the coffee table.”
“I looked again, they’re not there.”
“Try. Again.”
“Oh, I found your book and pen.”
“Really? Great, where were they?”
“On the coffee table under a piece of paper.”
Sometimes graciousness means smiling hard enough that your teeth are cracking while you're saying, "Thank you."

Now picture this conversation repeated for just about everything, underwear, sweatshirts, deodorant, and yarn, especially yarn. And before you even begin to ask, yes yarn is an essential in my life. There was just some stuff that neither my husband or mother-in-law could find no matter how well I described its location. So, after several attempts I knew what I had to do. I waited until both my mother-in-law and husband had left the main floor and then slid my crutches down the stairs and butt bumped my way on down to the basement. I grabbed a bag that I could hang around my neck and started crutching and crawling my way around the basement grabbing the missing essentials, which included the precious yarn right where I had described it.

Pulling myself back upstairs with my arms proved to be a bit more difficult, but ultimately doable and by the time I was back in bed I was exhausted, but satisfied. Unfortunately my little foray was not unnoticed.
“Where the HELL did that yarn come from?!”
“The basement pantry.”
“You know what I mean, you better not have gone downstairs to get it.”
“Well, no one else was successful in getting it.”
“If you ever even try to go downstairs again I’m hiding your crutches AND your wheelchair so that you’re stuck in this bed and have to let people help you.”
“ok”
“And mom, since you didn't notice her sneaking downstairs, you’re fired.”

A Fistful of Paperwork

So I left the ER with a handful of paperwork, two wrapped up ankles, an orthopedic shoe, and crutches. So woo, great hospital swag acquired! Medically I’m not supposed put any weight on my right foot and to put as little stress as possible on my left foot as it’s already weakened and could easily roll and sustain further damage. That was a wonderful pep talk from the staff. At least I wasn’t planning on running the Portland Marathon.

Now I have to prove to the hospital that I’m not making any money. I found this concept interesting because it’s pretty difficult to prove a negative. Well, the balance in one of my bank accounts was actually going to make that pretty easy. So I need to provide a copy of my taxes, 3 months of bank account statements, and 3 months of pay stubs. The pay stubs are by far the easiest since they don’t exist at all. I also have to send in a letter describing my financial situation. This letter is, I’m assuming, so that the hospital financial office has something to laugh at during their lunch hour.

The drive home was quick, but my legs informed me that there are enough pot holes on that short route to provide jobs for a large number of people. And then the argument started. My husband and I live in the basement. Me being a hurt sick animal I wanted to crawl, literally, down into my hole and hide. After the eventful morning, my husband was a worn out, tired man and he wanted to tuck me into the guest bedroom on the main floor.
“Please”
“No.”
“Please, I can totally scoot down the stairs on my butt.”
“No.”
“Please, all my stuff is down there.”
“No, we can bring your stuff to you.”
“Please, if I’m already downstairs no one has to bring anything to me.”
“Except food. If you’re downstairs we have to bring you food. And how are you going to get to your stuff, you’re not supposed to walk on your right foot and you’re supposed to stay off of your left as much as possible.”
“I’ll crawl.”
“You will not. I know you, and the minute that I’m not looking you’ll get up because it’s easier.”

So I lost. While I sat in the parked car while my husband prepped the house I got my friends on board with the downstairs idea. I had formed up my troops and was ready make a new assault. However between crawling up the steps and the ten minutes it took me to maneuver the bathroom my will to bump down a full flight of stairs evaporated. Unfortunately my friends were still on board with the badly injured friend downstairs program. I collapsed, defeated on the guest bed and convinced everyone that moving might be possible after the pain pill arrived from the pharmacy. But other than that I was going to remain sedentary until my legs fell off or the sun swallowed the earth, whichever came first.