Doing what this guy is doing.
On Wednesday of last week, the Squee had the stomach flu, and after a bout of digestive pyrotechnics, I was hurrying down the stairs to put the soiled towels into the washing machine so I could get back to my sick little boy.
Yes I am going to rub on you while you're trying to walk. It's my contribution to the household.
In a moment of forethought I shooed the cat down the stairs ahead of me (why do cats insist on being under foot ON THE STAIRS?!) Thinking I was in the clear, I was making my way down when all of a sudden there was a loud 'Pop' and I was at the bottom of the stairs yelling in agony.
Honestly, I experienced unmedicated labor with both of my babies, and this was worse. Way worse.
Not how I felt.
I was trying to not yell too much, I didn't want to scare the Squee, but FUUUCK it hurt.
Anyway, so I'm at the bottom of the stairs, trying to think of how I'm going to get back upstairs, and then it came: 'How am I going to run?' And then the tears came, and the pathetic 'no, no, no, this isn't happening' *sigh*
Writers block is so pussy compared to this.
I crawled up the stairs and made it to the ottoman, mercifully the Squee was absorbed in 'Franklin' re runs. While waiting for re-inforcements (aka people who could walk and help take care of the babies) I nursed Esme and tried to keep my cool.
To be truthful, that was one of the worst days I've ever had. In the top seven for sure. Luckily I didn't break anything, and also luckily I have a ballerina best friend and a physical therapist in training sister in law, so this ankle is getting top notch care.
Chuck Norris appreciates your compassion ladies. And so do I :)
Now for the mental coping. 'Ashley, this is not a running ending injury.' 'Ashley, people without legs run.' 'Ashley, you're not an Olympian, it'll be ok.' (These are all things I've been saying to myself.) I've also been indulging, well forcing my husband to indulge me, with my neuroses. Such as making the bed just so. Quickly hobbling around and cleaning up while he is upstairs changing a diaper. (Shhh don't tell him!)
I've also actually been taking care of myself too. With lots of help from hubby and his family. I've been taking ibuprofen to help keep the pain in check and the swelling down, I've been RICE-ing. I tried an Epsom salt soak, that didn't do much. Actually it kind of sucked because I was listening to one of my running playlists...*bursts into tears*
God I miss it. I'm stressed out and miserable, I feel tired, and sore and lethargic and cranky, and starved for fresh air. I think I may miss the day dreaming the most. Ugh!!!
Anyway, currently, besides indulging in my anxiety filled neuroses, I'm also indulging in 'Florence and the machiene', books I've read a thousand times, brownies, and french movies. All I need now is a red taper candle in an old chianti bottle and an accordionist :)
Great movie.
Great movie.
Actually I think I'm going to go to the Y in a few days and work on arms and my core. Maybe try swimming. Except I have no idea how to swim for exercise...hmmm...
Ahhhhh - the accordianist - send him (or her) this way when you're finished! The accordian is such an underrated instrument!
ReplyDeleteArms! There you go!
And don't you just swim? Well, I wouldn't know.
And excuse to lay in bed and be waited on and read sounds wonderful. But then I have no babies and no one to wait on me. So I take the elevator here at the condo. (I tell myself to take the stairs, but I don't listen.)