My husband came up with the title for this post while we were sitting in the emergency room.
Sean went for what we thought was appendicitis. In 2012, Sean was back in the ER when he poured boiling water on his hand. In 2013, it was Elijah's turn to visit the Children's Hospital for breathing difficulties.
Apparently in 2014, my number came up.
Originally, this was supposed to be a post all about my trip to St. Louis. Our church has really taken an interest in ministering to families with special needs kids. Believe it or not, 7 out of the 15 kids currently in the preschool class at church have special needs. The Children's Ministry Director invited the moms of the special needs kids to attend some workshops with her so that we could all be on the same page. It was going to be a whirlwind trip. We were planning to leave Thursday evening and return Friday evening.
Quick trip, but an awesome time with other ladies who understand raising kids with special needs. I was really looking forward to it!
Instead, I ended up with my own special needs.
On my way down the steps in front of our house, with my overnight bag in tow, I slipped and fell. I felt the pop as I landed and searing pain ripped through my right leg. Sean heard my screaming from inside our house and came running out to see what happened. He tried to help me up, but my right leg wouldn't hold my weight. I kept saying, "Give me 5 minutes! Maybe the pain will go away!" *sigh* Yeah, that definitely didn't happen.
I did eventually make it to the car (with Sean half carrying me), but instead of driving to meet up with the other ladies and head to St. Louis, Sean drove me to the emergency room.
I have to say, the Saint Luke's Health System is as good now as they were when I was on bed rest with quadruplets. It's almost like we can't stand to be away from them long, or we find a reason to visit.
So what's my prognosis?
I broke the fibula in my lower right leg. The break is about two inches below my knee, and the pain radiates down through the ankle because of how the muscle is attached to the bone. I can't put any weight on it for the next 2-4 weeks, which means I'm essentially on bed rest again. It will take 6-8 weeks to fully heal.
Also, two-year-olds don't understand what a "broken leg" is. Instead, they think my splint is some fun new toy to ride on, and that my crutches are the ultimate item to swing around. I have to mostly stay upstairs on my bed because they keep climbing, jumping, and jarring my leg. Ouch! I'm trying to be careful that they don't set the healing back, because I really want to be up and around as soon as possible.
I'd like to add that this is the first time that I've broken a limb. I had no idea how much I took my legs for granted until I only had one that would hold me up. Little things like going to the bathroom take f-o-r-e-v-e-r.
Fun times! What can I say? We like to keep it interesting over here!
Yes, Baby Girl. I'm pretty stuck for awhile. Oh, and please don't slide down my leg.