I apologize in advance for any typos that may occur. You see, I am attempting to write this blog as a talk to text document. Why, may you ask, am I doing this? Well folks, I broke my arm.
I don't even have a good story to go with it. My cleaning ladies had just left and the floor was extra wet. Lola needed to go out, so I answered her call. I took one step on the wet tile and I was totally airborne. Yes, the cleaning fairies did such a good job on my kitchen floor that I slipped and broke my arm. #firstworldproblems. Apparently your arm is not meant to hold your entire body weight. Unless you are Superman.
I knew when I landed that something was very wrong, so I crawled to the freezer and immediately put ice on my arm. After about 30 seconds I thought, "Maybe this isn't so bad. Maybe I'm overreacting." I barely touched the foot of my bed with my fingers and it felt like.... Remember when we were kids and we used to play super Mario Brothers on the Nintendo and we would just shoot fireball after fireball after fireball after fireball? It felt like that short, moustached, overalls wearing son of a bitch was shooting those fireballs right into my fingers and up my arm into my shoulder. At that point I thought....
I called Trent and got no answer. I sent him a text that casually said "I think I broke my arm". Next I called my new friend Kelly.
I freaking love Kelly. I'm pretty sure that God moved us to Edmond so that Kelly and I could be friends. She is my running partner, our kids are BFFs, and our husbands have this cute little bromance brewing. Some other time I'll post about the day we went to Lululemon and she helped me try stuff on.
Spandex + bigass cast + thong mishap = lots of laughing.
RING-RING
Kelly: "Hey whatcha doing?"
Me: "I'm pretty sure I just broke my arm."
Kelly: "I'll be there in five minutes."
Me: "Okay. The front door will be unlocked. I have to take a shower."
Who does that? Seriously. They are not going to care that I have crazy hair and yesterday's deodorant, but it was very important to me to smell fresh for the ER doctors. As soon as the shower was over, so was the adrenaline rush. The pain was the worst pain I have ever felt in my entire life. That includes two C-sections and an abdominal hysterectomy. Kelly walks in the front door to find me standing in my bedroom completely naked. I take one look at her, start crying, and say, "What if I can't ruuuuuuun the marathooooon?" Kelly says, "Let's get your underwear on first, then we can worry about the running thing." Trent meets us at the ER and we wait. Exes are Rayed and sure enough, it's broken. They put me in a splint, referred me to an orthopedic specialist with an appointment for the next day, gave me a prescription for pain meds, and sent me on my way.
Divine intervention rather than a moment of insanity inspired me to cut all of my hair off the week before. Long hair is manageable. You get a blowout once or twice a week and find a good dry shampoo. Super short hair doesn't work that way! The morning of my appt, my super sweet hairdresser offered to come over and fix my hair. GOD BLESS HER! We also devised a blow drying plan that would impress MacGyver. I'm getting really good at fixing my hair with one hand. (Is there a contest for that? I would WIN!)
This is the first bone I've ever broken. I managed to live 38 years without breaking a bone. There's a first time for everything. The little girl in me knew immediately what color my cast would be.
The cool news is that I get a new one every two weeks. I get to have all of my favorite colors represented throughout this injury! My first question to the doctor was, "When can I run?" His response was more of a look and a snort than an answer. I said, "No I'm serious. I am supposed to run the OKC Memorial Marathon in a month." He told me that I should be okay to run in two weeks. That'll be nice, because I will have a new waterproof cast for that experience. I can only hope that it is a shorter cast, but my gut tells me it's going to be another big 'un. He then went on to say that I might not want to run. Trent just looked at him and shook his head in pity. I said, "You haven't met me. I will be running and I will have bling on my cast." That truly is the plan, unless my arm still hurts like a mofo and my thumb still looks like a giant turkey leg.
What I haven't told you is that I picked the worst week to break my arm. My sweet Clay was having his tonsils out on Friday. How was I going to take care of my sweet baby in his hour of need? How was I going to be the one to get up in the middle of the night and give him his pain medicine when I was in so much pain myself? I'll tell you how. I'm Supermom I can totally do this. We have weathered much worse storms in his short six years. This would be a cinch. We start talking to Clay about his surgery and how Mommy will be with him and take good care of him. He starts to cry and says, "No! I only want daddy." Neat.
All has gone well so far. The tonsils and adenoids are gone and my boy is on the mend. Thank goodness I have those pill organizers so that I can dose his meds as he recovers this week. Why does everything have to have a damn screwtop? Those childproof caps would have made Jesus cuss. I'm sure of it.
Taking pain meds did put a little damper on my wine consumption, but I'm dedicated to my craft. I switched to Ibuprofen and acetaminophen after three days just so I could drink some wine with Olivia Pope on Thursday. Some might call it a problem. I call it homeopathic medicine. I'm choosing my pain relief, yo!
Coming up: Will I have to beat the crap out of someone with my cast for calling me a jogger? Stay tuned, my friends. Stay tuned.
