Friday, July 26, 2013

A Little Blurry

Here's a selfie of, um, myself:

Here's a picture of Liam in the ER riding around in his new favorite thing (besides the carts that look like cars at the grocery store):

Here's where I came to the realization that I have absolutely no idea what to do with Liam 100% of the time in a confined space.
On Wednesday during the day, I had an EMG or my right leg- my numb one- and I was in a TON of pain. If you've never had or known anyone who had an EMG, it's TORTURE! It's a two part test where they first shock your nerve endings and then they put needles in your muscles (and then get you to flex) and listen for the sound waves it makes. After about 10 seconds of that, I was done. The test lasted close to 20. It was just torture.
So Thursday I was really sore, but I called and they said to use Motrin and compresses and I'd be okay. Thursday night we were weeding and we were the whole way around the flower bed. We were going to put the garbage out and then go swimming in Liam's little pool. I was putting the weed bags over the pickett fence and I had half my foot on the cement path and half my foot in the flower bed, and my ankle snapped (same one I've sprained twice, now three times) and down I went.
I was just screaming because it hurt so bad. I knew it was broken. The pain was soooo intense. So Andy's all upset because he's like- you've done it again, now you can't hold Liam anymore, etc. He gets me an ice pack and some water, and by the time he gets back I'm passed out. So he called 911, and hands Liam off to a neighbor, (this of course makes him scream) and they come get me and take me to Hershey Med.
I woke up in the ambulance (Andy said after around 20 minutes, I'm not sure how accurate that was because I'm sure it SEEMED a lot longer than it was), and it was terrible, because the pain was so intense, my body was just shaking- like convulsing. Andy said it was terrible. They gave me oxygen and it helped to calm me down. I can hear Andy telling my info to the staff and as soon as I "came to," they gave me two percocet and I was VERY fuzzy. I was completely covered in grass and I was stinky and sweaty and I didn't even have on clean underwear!!! I was breaking ALL the doctor visit rules!
The X-rays came back that it was just a sprain- and the doctor said he would have rather it be broken, because a broken ankle can heal, but a sprained ankle never REALLY gets back to 100% for a VERY long time. So I stayed with my parents for the next week- Liam and I. I slept on the sofa and my mom helped me to get around.
Andy was just awesome. He took really good care of me at the hospital, and I just love him so much. I knew it was good for him to have a few days and nights to himself. He was sort of able to go and come as he pleased at home. But when I got home, I saw he hadn't changed the sheets, and my side of the bed had things on it. Boy if I was sleeping alone for a week, I'd take over the WHOLE bed!!!!!!!!!! I guess old habits die hard, and that's a good thing ;)
So that's my story. And also why I didn't write last week :-/
I do need to say that if I ever doubted my husband's love for me, I was sorely mistaken.  When I was passed out, I was going in and out.  And I could hear him in a panic.  I could make out his voice among the paramedics.  I could hear him repeating "Oh God, Oh God" over and over again.  I could feel his hand on my arm.  I could hear the EMT tell him he wasn't allowed to help lift me.  I could hear the panic and worry and anxiety in his voice.  I heard him say, "She does all of this stuff, I don't know what to do."  When I woke up in the ambulance I started sobbing, not from the pain in my body, but from the pain I had caused my husband. 
I didn't try it.
But I do need to say- in some strange way, it strengthened our marriage in a way nothing can express.  I felt like I realized what he meant to me and I to him.  A week sleeping apart- a week of him coming to pick me up and take me away like a date- a week of him tending to me and our son (we went out to eat, and he had to change a poopy diaper in the public bathroom...).  All eyes were opened as we saw each other so vulnerable.
Blessing in disguise.