It’s been so long. So long for a myriad of reasons… But, it’s thirty after five on a Saturday morning, and as good of a time as any. Let me tell you about last night…
We spent the last half of 2014 getting our home in order. The previous home owners were negligent in numerous ways. It debate sometimes whether they were idiots in how they kept a home or devious in hiding the problems they did. Either way, my husband and I have been footing the bill. Then a neighbor highly recommended her contractor to do the work for us. He had done a ton of work for her, and she was thrilled. We were excited that we had someone we could trust, and trust him we did until by a fluke we found out the work he did was not up to code. Oh, goodness. He was hostile and horrible to us, and we spent more time and money on things that should have been done right in the first place. I digress.
Last night, one of our new trusted and reputable contractors was over to check a leak in the house that we couldn’t seem to fix. My husband and I were rushing around the home trying to appease our sweet little puppy (yes, we bought a puppy… ha), who is not a fan of visitors in the home, when I realized we left our garage door open. Oh, and the car door, too? I tried not to grumble at my husband in my head and decided to put one of my new resolutions to “do it now” and started to go outside. That’s when it happened: I let my left foot trail behind me to slow the impact of a slamming door when my foot got caught and my heel was scraped. Ironically, it’s happened before but with a whole lot less severity. I yelped. I gasped for words. I muffled my pain in my upper arm. I was so glad I didn’t swear! ha I was thankful my neighbors weren’t home to hear. And, I was grateful neither my contractor nor husband was around to see what happened.
I paused for a moment, thinking: I am in a lot of pain! I didn’t cry and the initial shriek was just that- initial. I decided that it wasn’t bad and that I wouldn’t look at it. No need, right? Just a scrape again, I was sure. And yet I knew I really hurt myself while still needing to get stuff done. Suddenly, I felt embarrassment creep over me as I found out our contractor was outside during this whole thing. He asked if he should get my husband. No, I will be fine, thanks. He pressed on. He strained that he could get my husband. Oh, something was up. I appeased him and thanked him.
When my husband came out, he didn’t know how bad it was. Just a cut. However, we both realized: there was blood everywhere. He had me sit down on our driveway to examine my heel. A look of panic swept over him, and I knew it was bad. That’s when I started to cry out of fear. He grabbed a bag of bandages and a towel from the laundry room then hesitated. He wrapped my foot in the towel and said I needed to see a doctor immediately. Urgent care, I suggested. No, the hospital, he said. Not good, I thought. He was strained in how to move me to the car from the driveway and decided to call an ambulance. The EMT’s agreed that I needed to go to the hospital. I was a child and covered my ears every time they discussed details. I didn’t want to know how bad it was. Triage was kind to call it a “scratch” for me, as to keep my fears at bay. “Cool” is how she said she described something really bad… As she wrapped my foot back up, she burst that it was so cool! Great.
Hours later, I had heavy pain meds and fourteen stitches. I have a splint on it to keep me from moving my foot while it heals. I am using crutches again for the third time in three years. This is not fun. Although, (gross details ahead) I guess cutting your heel straight across and down to the tendon isn’t meant to be fun. No wonder blood was everywhere. My husband took pictures. I have been curious but want to wait until this is all over. Somehow thinking of it as a “scratch” has been keeping me positive.
I am laying in bed this morning though, and I know it is no scratch. Oh, it hurts. Throbbing pain. I fear I opened the stitches in my sleep. (Highly unlikely though). And, I wish I pushed for pain medicine. I feel horrible waking my husband for something to take for the pain, but, as six o’clock approaches, I didn’t know if I could face it.
My mind swirling around my heel and last night. I was making the puppy’s dinner when I stopped to get her blankets out of the dryer- that’s when I saw the garage was still open. That’s when my proactive superwoman cape came on. That’s when it all happened. I play the whole thing over again in my mind, trying to make sense of it and what got me here. I need to stop it; nothing good comes from the replaying.
I wonder though how I will make it through two weeks. Yes, fourteen days with minimal use of my left foot. The crutches pang me in using them again. Our house has grown unproportionately in my mind. How will I make it to July? I am sullen looking for the bright side of it all, which I thought I found more easily last night. Thank goodness I already did the grocery shopping in the morning and showered in the morning (instead of my usual at night). Thankful that I had fairly easy meals planned for the week. My husband could saute the veggies after I chopped them. So glad I cleaned and straightened and vacuumed, too, before the whole ordeal. Hmmm… Wished I had done the laundry, but I guess it can wait. My husband won’t mind doing it, too, I’m sure. Then it hits me: I need to slow down anyhow.
I have felt a longing to get back to blogging and writing for months, but, as I said, something always gets in the way. Maybe, it’s a temperamental computer or a needy puppy. It could be graduation or family in town. Something takes priority, and the blogs and books dance in my mind and begin to revolt, wanting desperately to get out of my head. Slow down. Hopefully, the writing will be easier when I cannot leave the bed. I should review my to do list. I have been seeking joy and honoring the side of taking time to read but not taking time to write. I guess I will start working on refocusing on that.
Thank you for still being here. More to come. Join me in putting your feet up for a bit *wink* and slowing down to find time for what you love.
Happy Saturday, love, Laura