Irritation and Injuries

Yesterday, I turned my back for a moment to put in a video for J to watch. J took that opportunity to swan dive off the couch, landing directly on his face on the hardwood. Good times.

I worked to stop the blood that was pouring from J's nose and mouth, trying to console my little boy, while also admonishing him that "This is why Mommy and Daddy tell you not to jump off the furniture like that". I realized that he'd banged his mouth and nose but good, and he'd also smacked his chin and forehead. He had tooth punctures in both his upper and lower lips. I was worried about his mouth. His teeth. His nose. His head. Oh dear ... I hope his teeth are okay; his nose not broken; he has no concussion.

And J screamed and cried. And I applied pressure to his nose and mouth. And I phoned H. And I carried the crying J up the stairs, while he shrieked, waking N from his nap with screams of "I WANT MY N!!!" (It's sweet that he's so attached to his little brother.)

J went to emergency. He is okay. No breaks; no stitches. Popsicles to reduce the swelling in his mouth. And he feels better today. Sadly, he continues to leap off the furniture like a little maniac. But hopefully, he has learned to land on his feet and yesterday's faceplant will not be repeated.

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Today, I feel agitated. It's a general unhappy rage. I'm not 100% certain of what has caused it, but it is there nonetheless. I don't like it. I wish it would go away. But these moods take time to pass. And so, I wait. And as I wait, I brood. And question everything and everyone around me. And wish for a happy headspace, which will only come when it is good and ready.

Mood swings are a part of me, and you'd think I'd be used to them by now. But apparently, I am not. So for now, I grit my teeth and wait for the tides to turn. I hope happy, fun posts will soon appear. They'll come; they always do. Just takes time.

The Spin Cycle: My favourite things

I'm feeling a little bit more positive today. (This is no doubt due in part to my discovery that eleven of the seventeen formulas I have to learn for Module 2 are interconnected. As long as I can remember the web that connects them to each other, I should be okay with them. Now to learn everything else. The "Exam Formulas" link over on the right? Don't click it. It's seriously just exam formulas I still need to learn. It will bore you. Enough about the exam for now. It will be okay. I think.)

Today, I learned that the knee has healed up enough to be able to withstand physio. So that's fantastic news, as it means things are improving.

Also today, N turned six months old. He eats like a little piggy, in direct contrast to his older brother, and is getting quite plump. Granny calls him her little butterball. A six-month-birthday post will be written when I have more energy.

The kids got up early today. The doctor's office was a long wait. There was considerable studying today. And now, I am tired. And lazy. And it seemed like a good time to just give up and go for the archives. How convenient that Sprite's Keeper has asked us to revive our old favourite posts for this week's Spin Cycle!

(I love her!)

I don't have much to grab, to be frank. Until late August this year, this was one of those private unsearchable blogs for a few family and friends, and so older posts were not written with due care and attention, and are totally not suitable for re-posting. What to do ... what to do ...

It is my understanding that American Thanksgiving is coming up soon. In celebration, I give you my post from Canadian Thanksgiving. Which was over a month ago. Because we're awesome like that up here, and we don't believe in waiting a month when turkey can be eaten right now. Seriously. What's wrong with you people?

Oh, whatever. Just ... Here ya go!

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Now it's turkish delight on a moonlit night

Today is Canadian Thanksgiving. In our household, it goes something like this.

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H: J, put your shoes on please.
J: I got the green!
T: J, can you please move that toy?
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
J: I wanna take this hammer!
H: Fine. But put your shoes on please.
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
T: J, I really need you to move this.
H: Please do what your mother tells you.
J: I got that green, too!
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
T: Come on! I need to pee!
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
H: Why did you take your pants off, J?
J: I ... um ... can't remember.
T: I can't get around that toy, J. It's too big.
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
J: N's crying.
T: J! Will you please move that toy!
H: J! Pants! On!
T: Honey, you're confusing him.
J: I wanna take this saw too!
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
H: N, please stop.
J: I want chocolate!
H: No, J. We're going to have dinner.
T: Pants! Toy! Now!
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
J: But I want chocolate!
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
T: Please? Please move the toy?
H: No chocolate! Listen!!
T: (Singing to N) Rock-a-bye, baby ...
H: J, put your pants back on.
J: Why?
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
H: Because I asked you to!
T: ... when the wind blows ...
J: But I want ... um ...
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
H: I am tired of you saying "I want"!
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
T: ... the cradle will fall ...
J: But Daaaaadddddyyyyy!
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
J: I want ...
H: Stop saying that!
T: Please stop crying, N? *sob*
J: Whyyyy??
T: H, can you move the toy?
H: J! Move that toy!!
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
T: J? Please?
H: Why won't you listen, J?
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
J: I wanna watch "The Incredibles"!
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
H: N, please stop crying!
T: What?! No! We are not watching a movie!
J: But Mooooommmmyyyy!
T: I said no!
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
H: J! Put your pants on!
J: Umm ... I ... I wanna ... umm ...
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
T: Enough! I need to pee! Move the toy!!
J: I give you the toy!
H: Good, J. Now please, put your pants back on.
T: Thank you, J.
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
J: You're welcome, Momma.
H: N! Please?!
J: Can we watch "The Incredibles"?
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
H: No, J. It's time to go!
T: How are you doing, honey?
H: Just great! J?! Now!!
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
J: But I'm just spinning!
T: I'll be right there!
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
T: Okay. Can we go?
H: J! Pants!
J: Um ... oh! Okay!
H: Thank you, J.
T: Okay. Now can you put your shoes on?
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
J: I want my boots!
T: No. You need to wear shoes.
J: But I want my boots!
H: No, J! Shoes! Put them on!!
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
J: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
T: ...
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
H: ...

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Today, I am thankful that H didn't just drive off the embankment on the way to his brother's house for Thanksgiving. Thanks, Hon!

And Happy Turkey Day!!

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So yeah. That was the post. Heartfelt family moments. Still makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

Now go visit Sprite's Keeper and put your spin on it!

Unbreak my leg

I have been healed. Made whole. Reborn. Well ... maybe not that so much, but ...

The orthopedic surgeon said what was broken has now been made whole. And the orthopedic surgeon said "Arise and walk". And yea, I arose. And took those first steps. And would have fallen flat on my face had my husband and three nurses not rushed to my side to provide support.

And the nurses saw that it was not good. And the nurses handed me the crutches and provided the updated demonstration on their proper usage. And I walked out of the hospital. With grace and dignity. Sort of.

But at least I did not fall down. And it was good.

**********

The knee is substantially healed, and I am allowed to weight bear once more. But the knee buckles when I walk, so I still have to use the crutches to provide some stability. Soon, I will be able to downgrade to a cane. And then, I will be able to walk unassisted. If they don't have to open the knee back up in another six weeks or so to remove some of the glue and hardware that has become problematic and has resulted in a swollen lump on the side of the knee which impedes its movement.

For now, I work on learning to walk again. And I work on catching up on school. And I am tired and grumpy, so I work on my attitude too.

These are the things that need work.
This list is subject to change without notice.

Let a little white pill be your umbrella

I tried going with no pain meds night before last. Thought I'd see if the pain level was bearable. I hate over-medicating. I wasn't sure if I still really needed the medication or not. So I thought I'd try without, and just see.

Percocet is a powerful narcotic.
Let all the pain meds leave your system. Then you can properly assess your level of pain. Now ... Is it really all that bad?

Percocet is addictive.
Yes. Yes, it is. I paid for my decision all day yesterday. Throbbing and creaking deep in the knee joint. Periodic cries of pain. Just don't move ... stay perfectly still ... it feels much better that way.

Percocet can cause nausea, vomiting, and constipation.
Medication is still required. Very much required.

Percocet can cause hallucinations, headaches, and a false sense of well-being.
So I took my Percocet again last night. Because at the end of day, having imaginary parrots sing "Let a Smile Be Your Umbrella" to you while hippos dance behind them in a whirl of rainbow colours is still preferrable to severe knee pain.

Percocet can cause tiredness, blurred vision, and unusual dreams.
I stand behind my decision.

What's the name of the game?

The van driving down the road. The "Mamma Mia" soundtrack playing merrily in the CD player. Meryl Streep asking earnestly "What's the name of the game"?

Grumpy J: (forcefully) I don't want to tell you!
H: Don't want to tell me what?
Grumpy J: I don't want to tell her the name of the game!

Too bad, Meryl. Now, you will never know.

On a somewhat if not entirely unrelated note, an x-ray was performed today, which is good. I got to see the break and the positioning of the screws. No wonder it hurts so bad! (I mention this because it was how I came to be out in the van tonight ... I've been mostly housebound since getting out of hospital. But I did go out yesterday. To get the staples removed. Didn't hurt as much as I'd expected. Good.)

I was curious about the positioning of the screws. I couldn't get a visual on it. So I was googling "tibial plateau fracture" and looking for images. I hoped to find some x-rays, CT scans, drawings ... that sort of thing. It's interesting stuff. To me. Since I have the particular injury. I expect someone without a tibial plateau fracture would find it less than enjoyable.

More interesting and even less enjoyable, however, is the kind of thing other people think we all want to look at on the Internet. Like the close-up photos of some guy's infected surgical site, labelled "changing the dressing", which someone so thoughtfully posted on Flickr. (You will notice that I did not link to these photos. That's why you love me. And you're welcome.)

So ... what kinds of awful have you found on the Internet?

Where the hell are you when I need you?

It's okay that the floors are a bit dusty. That is why we have a vacuum. It's a central vac system, actually. No big bulky cannister to drag around. Just plug the hose into the wall and away you go. My parents have one of these. Took me years before I realized the cannister was in the basement next to the furnace and the dirt traveled through pipes in the wall. When they first got the central vac system, I thought there was no cannister. I thought the dirt was just magically blown out of the house. But now, with mom's-hindsight, I see that was completely illogical. Those marbles and dried up balls of play-doh I routinely vacuum up would have become projectile missiles, launching from the side of our house, and passersby would have been severely injured. There would then have been a bunch of lawsuits against reckless homeowners who were so stupid as to install central vac systems. That wouldn't make a lot of sense. The basement cannister is a much better idea. That's why I am not an inventor. My ideas are too rough and don't work on a practical level.

So our floors are dusty. So what? H will haul out the vacuum later, and the floors will soon be clean. We have wood and lino flooring, and vacuuming only takes a few minutes. As long as you keep up on it. When you don't, then it takes much longer. Fur, kitty litter, and crumbled Cheerios cover all available surfaces and get in all of the grooves. And then, of course, there are the marbles and dried up balls of play-doh. J loves play-doh and is at his happiest when an adult will shape tiny pieces of the stuff into little balls. They have to be pea sized, perfectly round, and have no cracks. If they are not perfect, he will give them back and demand that we do it better. He lets these little balls of goo dry out, and then he carries them around with him as if they were the crown jewels. Until he eventually loses interest, abandons them, and then insists we make him a new batch. Decrepit abandoned play-doh balls are all over this house. He keeps them in cupboards and drawers, in his tiger backpack, and in his pockets. We have to make sure to empty J's pockets before we do a load of laundry. Otherwise, we end up washing a bunch of multi-coloured little balls of play-doh. And that's just not pretty at all once the load's gone through the dryer and everything.

So yeah. The floors. They can get bad. But they're not bad right now. Just kind of dusty. A quick 5-minute job oughta take care of it. You see, that is why we have a vacuum. It took way longer to clean with a broom and dustpan. And then, we ended up just sort of shifting the cat fur around. See, you can't really sweep up cat fur. It's too light. The tufts just fly up in the air, and then they land elsewhere, and no matter how much you sweep, you just kind of move the fur from one spot to another and you never actually get rid of any of it. I don't know why we even own a broom, really. The vacuum works so much better, and it's way easier. And if there's anything on the floor that's too large for the vacuum, then it can just be picked up by hand and put in the trash. Really, the broom is pretty useless, when you think about it. Though it would have been handy before the vacuum was invented, I suppose. I mean, it's probably better to use the broom than to do nothing at all. Right?

Anyway, we have a good vacuum. And I love the vacuum. And H loves the vacuum. In fact, this morning, H told me not to worry about the floors at all. H told me that he would vacuum. H told me that the vacuum is a wonderful tool, good for many things.

Well ... it's good for vacuuming obviously. But I haven't found it to be quite as good for dishes. I can't honestly remember the vacuum ever doing a half decent job washing the dishes. It also doesn't clear the expired food out of the refrigerator. And it can't follow a grocery list at all, so you just can't send it shopping and expect to get back anything like what you asked for. It's memory frankly sucks (haha). It refuses to do bathroom fixtures. It can't get that streak-free shine on the windows. And it's completely useless for laundry. It just forgets. It forgets everything! In fact, if the vacuum were better at laundry, I would not have had to try and do it myself, and I would not currently be laid up with a broken knee from my bizarre laundry accident.

So really, it's all the vacuum's fault, if you think about it.

Stupid vacuum.

Where the hell are you when I need you? Off getting yourself a snack? Watching soap operas? Having a nap? What am I paying you for anyway? Oh ... right ... well, I bought you, didn't I? That makes you my indentured servant! And you should do what I need you to do when I need you to do it! And if you'd only gotten off your lazy butt and done the laundry that one fateful day ... fine, lazy hose then ... I don't believe for a minute that you "forgot"! It was laziness, pure and simple!

You're fired!!

Of course, when I expressed these thoughts to H, he just kind of rolled his eyes at me and told me that when he said the vacuum was good for "many things", he meant it was good for cleaning all kinds of flooring surfaces, upholstery, and blinds, and even for light dusting if you use the special duster attachment. So ... yeah.

Men!

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The above insane ramblings are my own fault. I haven't taken any Percocet today, so I can't even blame my crazy on the narcotics.

Stairway to heaven

The knee is continually being jostled. Each bump causes intense pain.

Yesterday. Yesterday, H and J both smacked it several times. They felt terrible about it. I still feel the after-effects of their repeated blows today. I am thankful for painkillers.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow, the staples come out. I hear that hurts. But I am hopeful that the pain will start to subside once the staples are gone.

I try to move around some each day. I can get around pretty well now with my walker. And I'm getting better on the crutches. But stairs are still a challenge. And of course, we live in a 2-storey house.

When I was released from hospital, I had to navigate a bit to get home. I had to get up and down curbs, in and out of the van, up the three steps to our veranda, and over our threshold. It was difficult. I never realized that the rise of our veranda stairs is so crazy. The steps are really, really high! I went up the first step with the crutches, but I had to put my bad leg out at a crazy angle, and it hurt horribly. After the first step, I thought better of it, and I sat down and scooted the rest of the way up. Once at the top, I had to figure out how to get back to my feet. From ground level. With only one good leg. The solution was found in J's picnic table. It was conveniently situated on the veranda, and I used it. Two small pushes up - one to the bench, and one to the top - and I was then sitting at the perfect height to get back to my feet, aided by the crutches.

Our inside stairs are even steeper than those veranda steps; high rise, narrow tread, and many more than three steps. Not my favourite feature of the house. And those stairs are why I have been living on the main floor. I mean, our stairs are rather dangerous even with two good legs. But on crutches? I'd probably fall down and break the other leg. Or maybe my neck this time. Mess me up real good. 'Cause that's how I roll.

So I live on the main floor as much as possible. Once I can weight-bear on the left again, I can go up the stairs more frequently. It's not too bad, really. The main floor is fully equipped. Mostly. But there is one problem. Our showers are on the top floor. And I like showers. A lot. Sure, I can have sponge baths and wash my hair in the sink. But that kind of thing just doesn't replace a nice shower. I miss my showers. I want my showers. At this point, a nice long shower would feel like a little piece of heaven.

Okay. So I can't exactly stand, balancing on my one good leg, for long enough to manage this feat. But we have a shower seat. We have a tub clamp. We borrowed these things from the equipment loans program. So I can get in and out of the tub. And once in, I can sit down to shower, with no weight being placed on the offending limb. That will work. I can have a shower. In theory. Really, all that stands in my way is a full flight of death-trap stairs.

(Did I mention that they're covered in the most slippery carpet I've ever seen? And that each tread is completed with a rounded lip that you can catch your foot on, or slide right off of with ease? Did I mention that I am not the only one to have fallen down these things? On more than one occasion? Did I mention that they are not my favourite feature of the house?)

I just have to get up the stairs, get back to my feet at the top, and crutch-walk to the bathroom. That is all. That can't be insurmountable. People do this sort of thing every day. How hard can it be? (Did I mention that I am a klutz? So much so, in fact, that H has requested I not crutch-walk when he is not at home, for fear that I will lose my balance and injure myself further when he is not around to help me? "Please, just use the walker, okay?")

Today.

T: I need to get upstairs. I want to have a shower.
H: Are you going to be able to make it all the way up on the crutches?
T: I don't think so. I'll have to sit on the stairs and scoot up.
H: How are you going to get back on your feet once you reach the top?
T: You'll need to bring J's little picnic table in from outside and put it at the top of the stairs. I'll use that.
J: You're going to bring in my picnic table?
T: Yes, J.
J: So I can have a picnic inside?
T: No, J. We're just going to use it so that Mommy can stand back up.
J: No. My picnic table can't come inside. Because it's for picnics.

(Great. Thanks. Thanks so much. I bought you that dang picnic table, and all your other stuff too, incidentally, you ungrateful little troll, and I'll use anything I see any fool way I like, and ... deep, cleansing breath.)

T: It's just to help Mommy briefly, J. Then we'll put it back outside, and you can have a picnic. Okay?

J is thinking about it.

Every time you shift your weight, you take a piece of knee with you

First, let me just say:

HOLY MOTHER OF GOD DOES THIS EVER FLIPPIN' HURT!!! PLEASE MAKE IT STOP!!!!!

I'm being as delicate as possible with the broken knee. But it still gets jostled. People in the house bump it. Sometimes, my own movements cause great pain. And whenever I need to change or feed N, it's excruciating. Somehow, that baby has the ability to put all of his weight on my lower left thigh and push down toward the break. I try to adjust him, but he's apparently quite determined.

At least I'm down to two Percocet a day now. I only take them at night. Just 'cause they last longer than Tylenol, so I don't awake in the wee small hours in agony. But the rest of the day, I get by with the Tylenol. That's pretty good, I'd say. The Tylenol doesn't make me as sleepy, and it has never caused a hallucination. Plus it's safe for nursing. So that's always nice.

It has been two weeks since the surgery. I hope the pain will start to subside soon. But thus far, it's generally around a 7 or 8 out of 10. If it's not jostled at all, it sometimes gets down to a 5. But that kind of thing is always short-lived. 'Cause someone's got to bang into it. H has walked into it (rarely). J loves to cuddle, and he actually kicks it (frequently). Of course, N likes to lie on it (almost constantly). And even I sometimes jostle it and get myself in a heap of trouble (more than you'd think - I'm a total klutz).

It's still swollen, though that seems to be going down. It's still reluctant to bend, though that seems to be improving ever so slowly. I can get it to almost a 45 degree angle now, but it is very uncomfortable to do so. I wonder how much physio will be required and when I might expect to be able to bend it properly. The doctors have said it will never be the same again, so part of me wonders if I will ever again be able to bend it properly. I try to banish those thoughts, but they are there. Oh, I dearly hope it will bend properly at some point!

I'm worried about the physio. I'm worried about recovery. I'm concerned that it still hurts so much two weeks post-op. And of course, I'm terribly annoyed with myself. I had just recently gotten off bed rest, and now I'm restricted once more just because I'm clumsy. Hardly seems fair. There are worse sins than clumsiness, aren't there? Ok, fine; I'm really clumsy. But still!!

Anyway, the Percocet is starting to kick in, and I'd best stop typing before something odd happens. Like what, you ask? Well obviously, like my being sucked into the computer, or turning into a giant robin, or some such thing. 'Cause Percocet can be like that. Or not. It's wildly unpredictable stuff, I've found. At least the knee doesn't hurt as badly when I'm flying around the neighbourhood.

Tweet, tweet!

Year of the cat rat broken bone

It all started when Paul broke his ankle over the winter. He broke it badly. Needed surgery to set the break. What was Paul doing? Taking his two kids to school in a little wagon he was pulling. Slipped on the ice, and that was it for Paul. Surgery, crutches, walking cast, and physio. He experienced massive amounts of pain for a terribly long time. And it took a number of months, but Paul has recovered well. (His juggling routines took a temporary hit, however. But he's getting back in form again.)

Next came Lee. Lee also broke his ankle in winter. Not as badly as did Paul, but it was a break nonetheless. Both Lee and Paul were in casts at the same time. They were practically twins, since they'd both broken the same ankle. (The real tragedy, of course, was that this meant we couldn't tie their bad legs together to make one full person with two good legs.) Lee went outside briefly one day and slipped on his concrete steps. His ankle was set with a regular cast, and in six weeks the cast came off. He was in considerable pain for a period of time while he waited for the break to heal. Now, Lee is good as new. But until he healed up, his wife was on her own with an (almost) 2-year old and a new baby in the house. (And she had fun, fun, fun 'til the mental health professionals took her away. But she's all better now.)

Next was me. With a broken knee. (Tiddle dee dee.) The hospital chart reads "tripped over the cat", but we all know what really happened, don't we? I stand by my assertion that she tried to kill me. (According to the Chinese horoscope, 2008 is the year of the rat. Well, the stupid cat has lost more weight lately, and her fur lacks lustre. And now she kind of looks like a rat, so I guess someone got temporarily confused.) The pain is intense, and the Percocet continues to be good to me at night. We've been successful thus far in working out childcare arrangements for J. But for the sake of N, I've downgraded to Extra Strength Tylenol during the day so I don't lose consciousness when I'm alone with him, and also so I don't disrupt his feeding routine too much. This means I hurt a lot during the day. But I cope. I trust it will heal in time. (Until then, I hope for better hallucinations.)

And now, on to my friend Carolyn. (Update your blog, woman! What's wrong with you?) Carolyn broke her ankle today. She was working on some landscaping, took a step off her deck, and just kind of landed funny on the concrete slab. She has three children to care for, and her business plans have experienced a temporary setback. But fortunately, hers is a straightforward break. She's in a regular cast right now, and will get a walking cast in a few weeks. She has some Tylenol 1's at her disposal, but hasn't really needed them. And she says it only hurts when someone bangs it. (At my request, H is heading over there with a hammer. 'Cause, why should she be spared?)

So what I'm saying is this: If you have kids, you'd better watch your step. And please, folks, try not to break any bones. It's not nearly as much fun as I've made it sound.

Things you never thought you'd hear yourself say

"Just wait 'til Mommy puts away her walker."

I don't use the crutches around the house. I'm much more stable on the walker. So we prefer that I use it and stay safe. Even if it does make me feel really old. At least I'm not falling down and breaking the other knee. Gotta count for something, right?

Right?

Hello?

I'm so high on you

Percocet. Percocet is a wonderful drug. The pain is still there, but it is substantially lessened. I drift in and out of slumber.

When awake, I reflect on how enormous my living room looks now that much of the furniture has been removed. Things were re-organized during my hospital stay. The main floor is now a minimalist space, where I have room to move about with my old lady walker or crutches while wearing my leg brace. I play on the Internet. I put final touches on my project, which will soon be submitted.

When asleep, I am at perfect peace. I forget that my knee is broken, and I dream pleasant dreams. If I move in my sleep, the pain is sudden and severe, and it wakes me. I try not to move much. It's jarring.

Mostly, I reside in a state of semi-consciousness. My eyelids feel heavy, and my vision is blurred. I could be right in the middle of something, and then I open my eyes and twenty minutes has passed. I did not sleep, but I just stopped what I was doing and ceased movement. It's rather disconcerting.

In these times, I converse with myself. Or with others. It's sometimes quite unusual. The other day, I lay still, eyes closed peacefully, and listened to my mother-in-law talk. She was telling me about a dream that she'd had. It didn't make much sense, but I was able to follow her train of thought as she told the story, moving swiftly from topic to topic, dancing in and out of subject matter as she spoke, just as she always does, her voice quiet and earnest. And while I listened, I thought about what a shame it was that she wasn't actually there. I was enjoying listening to her, and it would have been so much better had she been real.

Percocet. I highly recommend it.

I'm going to sleep now. Nighty night.

But the damned cat came back

Fuel pump. Leg brace. Both wonderful things, but hardly interchangeable.

About the same price. But hardly interchangeable.

**********

You'll recall from my last post that I hurt my knee when I fell down the stairs. The cat was lying on the top step, and I tripped and fell. I am quite certain that she was trying to kill me.

What I had failed to mention in that last post was that she had earlier tried to kill H. Two hours before my fall, H had nearly tripped over her. She was sitting on that same blasted top step. H removed her. But apparently, she just wouldn't stay away.

Now, our poor old household has troubles of its own, beyond the little cat that pees throughout our home.

**********

We had to get the fuel pump in our car replaced last week. The car died at a 7-11. Expensive repair jobs suck. But it's just a car.

Damage to a person is a lot worse than damage to a car.

My leg is in fact broken. It's a tibial plateau fracture, which is right in the middle of the knee joint. And it required surgery to fix. Two screws are permanently holding my knee joint together. The break caused disruption of blood flow to the cartilage, complicating the injury. I will likely require knee replacement surgery in fifteen to twenty years. The doctors say that the knee will never be the same. It will be stiff and develop arthritis. For the moment, there is no range of motion. In other words, it doesn't bend. Plus, it hurts like the devil!!

It required a special type of brace. And I couldn't be released from hospital until I'd passed physio, by demonstrating that I could crutch-walk up the stairs. I couldn't do that until I'd gotten the brace. The brace allows 50% weight on the left. But without it, I'm not permitted to weight-bear on the left at all.

The brace came in today, and I finally got to come home. I've been in hospital since last Friday, so it's been nearly a full week now. Scans, surgery, medication, and physio. In another five weeks, I'll be re-assessed, and we'll see how much more physio I need. Range of motion will likely continue to be a concern, and hopefully physio will be able to improve this significantly.

I'm exhausted. The medication is tiring, as are the crutches. Can't care for the kids, so we're trying to find a solution to that problem. Our stairs are too steep for me to manage with crutches, so we have to adapt to me living exclulsively on the main floor until I can weight-bear again. And some of the medication passes in breast milk, so I have to time N's feedings around my dosing schedule. The doctors indicate that the medication isn't dangerous to N, but it will make him rather sleepy. But I still prefer not to give my baby narcotics. It's just my preference as a mother, I suppose. Anyway, this is all somewhat problematic.

On a bright note, the crutches provide quite the intense workout.

I want to believe

I want to believe in many things. That bad situations are temporary. That my parents will all live for many more years. That the cat's renal failure is reversible. That the kids will never get bigger or grow up, though they will be potty trained at some point. That the laundry will wash itself.

Some of these things are believable. Most are not.

Presently, I want to believe that my leg is not broken.

I fell down the stairs this morning. Carrying laundry to the wash in preparation for a trip to see my birth mother, who is suffering from pancreatic cancer, I tripped over the cat who was lying on the top step. A very grown up J brought me the phone and helped me to hop down the stairs after I'd called for assistance. I can't weight bear on my left side, and my left foot is numb. I heard the knee pop when I fell. It's excruciating, but I don't want J to see me cry, so I'm sitting at my laptop, trying to pretend it doesn't hurt that much.

More when I return from the hospital.

After a rather long absence

I'm back!

My computer crashed out for a while. Then it returned to almost normal. Now, after some minor tinkering by me, it is back up to near full capacity, and I can blog again! Not only that, but I can return to work on the magical mystical picture CD for my fantastically lovely sister-in-law. Assuming no more crashes, she should get it ... soon.

Highlights while I've been gone:

About a week and a half ago, J peed in the potty for the very first time! He has yet to repeat his feat. But he has peed on the floor twice, while pushing the potty around in the nude. And he has tried several times to use the potty as a hat, a step, and (if you'll believe it) a bed.

J now requires two soothers - a blue one, and a yellow one. He must suck on one and hold the other. If one is missing, he becomes quite irate. I have no idea how to wean him from the soothers.

I passed my Economics course with a 92!!

I'm still hurt from the car accident. I have a couple of slipped discs in the low back, which make all activity (sitting, walking, etc.) really painful. I'm seeing physio twice a week and chiro 2-3 times a week to try and remedy this situation. There is some nerve damage that has resulted from this, and I need to go for an MRI and nerve conduction studies to see the extent and also what can be done to fix it. I don't know when the tests will be just yet.

The garage has electrical, thanks to our very kind friend Darren. He rocks! Now it just has to pass City inspection, and then we can cover over the trench in the backyard. In the meantime, watch your step!

We have picked flooring for the house and have hired someone to install it. We have no time and wouldn't know where to start if we had to do it ourselves. Work should commence mid-June.

Our new furniture came in early. Now, we are really crowded, with way too much furniture in the living room. But the new TV is out of this world! I never thought we'd own anything like it. It's very cool!

Saw Spiderman 3 at the IMAX. I liked it a lot! Of course, I was a bit disappointed at the whole Venom thing. But a movie night out together, just me and H? Oh yes ... the movie was fantastic!

J's vocabulary is really picking up. He has realized that H and I have voice dialing on our cell phones, so he thinks life just works that way. Now, he grabs the main phone in our house and just gives it instructions - "Call Grannie" - and waits for a response. When we phone someone, he insists that he must talk to them. His conversations consist of "Hi", and then a quick survey of the room, explaining everything that he sees in very excited tones - "Panda; Wagon; Sippy; Thomas ..." You get the gist.

Tonight, however, J decided that he would only speak in gibberish. H tried to understand and decipher. The discussion went something like this:

J: Shee shu shooda ba da wah.
H: What?
J: Shee shu shooda ba da wah.
H: What's by the wall?
J: Shee shu shooda ba da wah.
H: A satellite dish?
J: Shee shu shooda ba da wah.
H: On the siding by the wall?
J: Shee shu shooda ba da wah.
H: I have no idea what you're saying.
J: Shee shu shooda ba da wah.
H: When did you learn to speak Korean?
J: Shee shu shooda ba da wah.
H: She sells seashells by the seashore?
J: Yah!

Um ... no ... I don't think so ...

The physioterrorist hates me

Yes, I was prescribed physiotherapy to deal with the injuries from the car accident.

Seems I'm hurt pretty badly. Many headaches, ranging from minor to migraine. Some blurred vision. Terrible pain in my neck, back, ribs, hips, thoracic cavity. Pain when I walk, especially up or down stairs. Pain when I change position, like from sitting to standing. Pain and numbness in the arms and hands. Weakness in hands. Loss of grip. Loss of coordination. Loss of dexterity. Muscle spasms. Burning sensation in shoulders and between shoulder blades. Restricted head and neck movement. Sleep disturbance. Exhaustion.

The muscles in the neck are badly injured, and the injury can be felt by just touching my neck. There are lumps the size of apricots that bulge outward. My shoulders hurt so much I want to cry. I keep having to take codeine to deal with the pain. But I can't take it during the day, so I have to function without pain meds until nighttime. I use anti-inflammatory cream, heat, ice, jetted baths, pounding showers, and the codeine to try to deal with the pain. And I see the physioterrorist a couple of times a week. He's mostly doing manipulative therapy just now, and is focusing on trying to correct my loss of strength issues. The therapy hurts pretty badly, too. But I guess that's normal. I move very slowly these days; if I walk faster, my hips go out of alignment and it hurts even worse.

This kind of thing would have to happen at tax time, wouldn't it? I'm far too busy at work to have pain interfere with my day. And yet, it does. I guess there really isn't much I can do about it.

I feel helpless.

I hate whiplash

My neck hurts. My back hurts. And I have a nice strong headache right over my left eye. One-sided headaches always freak me out a bit. But I do get them from time to time, and they've never been serious. Just painful.

I would go to the chiropractor tomorrow if I didn't have to work. But since I have to work in the morning, I'll just take some pain medication now and go to bed. Hopefully the pain will dissipate overnight. And hopefully the pain meds will wear off so that I am not all groggy all day tomorrow.

'Night.

An open letter to the woman in the red car in the Timmy's line

Dear Kindhearted Lady:

I wish I could find you to tell you in person how much your generosity and kindness meant to us today. The fact that you chose to buy breakfast for the strangers in the car behind yours in the Tim Horton's line is an unusually thoughtful gesture. And ordinarily, this in itself would make a person's day. But you have no idea.

This morning, we were driving to a restaurant to have breakfast out. As we were safely stopped at a red light, our young son having a catnap in the back, we were suddenly struck from behind by another vehicle. The impact was intense, to say the least. We were pushed forward about 15 feet into the van in front of ours, which was the first in line at the lights. The impact that we had taken was so strong that this second impact pushed the other vehicle into the intersection where there was, thankfully, no oncoming traffic.

Our baby screamed and cried in the back. I reached for him, took him out of his carseat, and cuddled him until he felt better. But I was already very sore and stiff. H and the two other drivers exchanged information, and we all agreed to go to the police station together to report the accident.

We spent a considerable period of time at the police station. Once we were through reporting the accident, we left. We thought it best if we went to the doctor to have ourselves and little J all checked out. We were particularly concerned for our little boy, J, who is not quite 2 years old yet. We knew that he would not withstand the long wait at a walk-in clinic without having some breakfast first, and so we first went to the Tim Horton's drive-thru to pick up some breakfast for ourselves and our little boy before we went to the doctor to check on our injuries.

And that is where you came in and absolutely made our day. Thank you so much for your kindness and your generosity. You will never know how much this small gesture meant to us on this particular day. You are a wonderful person, and we appreciate you so much.

Once again, thank you so much.

**********

For those of you reading this who may be concerned, the verdict from the doctor is that I have a whiplash injury. J's carseat did its job, and he appears to be just fine thus far. We have replaced the carseat, as we all know that carseats, just like bike helmets, are only made to withstand one such impact. H is showing no negative effects as of yet, but the doctor says that soft-tissue injuries can take up to a month to rear their ugly heads.

So I am now on Codeine for pain, and may need some physio to treat the injuries. Wheeeee!

And I still absolutely adore the woman in the Timmy's line, who I don't even know and likely will never know. I think she's just the sweetest thing ever! Since we cannot repay her directly, we will repay her kindness to others.

Updates 'n' stuff

J can say "Love you" now, among many other things. Sometimes, we can tell what he's saying, and sometimes it's so mangled we have no idea. But in time, we'll be able to understand it all. I can't wait! His chatting is really sweet, and we really enjoy all the talking. But while his speech is improving, he still doesn't eat well. At least, not for us; however, daycare says eating is his favorite passtime. I'm just glad he's getting nourishment somewhere! At least we know he'll always eat grapes.

J is rather accident-prone these days. He currently has two fat lips, from falling at daycare while reaching for various toys. At home, he'll run headlong 'til he falls down. He's a tough kid, though, and is never down for too long.

In other news, my car is still not working. But I am hopeful that it will be returned to working order shortly and I'll be able to get around a bit better.

H's foosball table (which ended up costing us only $15; score!) is assembled in the basement now. It's red with black legs and black and white graphics, and it has a beautiful high-gloss playing surface and the cool old-fashioned red and white foosball table rods, featuring players with faces and uniforms. What an amazing find!

I have had a headache for 3 days now. Tonight, I also have a sore shoulder and stomach/back pains. The back pain thing is starting to feel more normal now, and I suspect it will continue periodically until the whole kidney-stone extravaganza is done. But as to the rest, I blame the blizzard. We have a whole lot of snow, and really cold temperatures/wind-chills expected. And my body always responds negatively to weather fluctuations, so it's no wonder I feel a bit miserable just now.

I hope the weather stabilizes soon. Preferably, it will stabilize at nice balmy temperatures!

Spasm

Back. Neck. Shoulder. Chest. Arm. Head.

Basically, my whole right side hurts.

I had to go to the chiropractor today. On an urgent basis. It was so bad I was starting to cry. At my desk at work. Who does that?

Got adjusted. Still hurts. But at least I can feel my arm again, and I made it through most of the rest of the day without weeping.

Physical and mental health are inexplicably tied together. When I feel bad physically, it manifests itself in my mental space too, and then I get all irritable. Just now, my body is working against me. Things that usually make me happy are starting to make me miserable. I hope this eases up soon. Then I will feel happy again. Happy is good.

I'm gonna lie down now. Try to relax, and hope the terrible spasms cease and desist. Hopefully, this will feel better in the morning. One day of it has been more than enough.

Who says chickens can't fly?

We have a baby gate between the kitchen and living/dining room. We have to climb over the baby gate to go between the rooms. The kitchen is quite baby friendly, but it has a lot of angles to it. We still prefer that J hang out in the living room with his toys rather than in the kitchen. We can keep a better eye on him in the living room and, since he's starting to climb, it just works better that way.

We had KFC for dinner tonight. I was coming out of the kitchen with a big plate of chicken. I attempted my usual maneuver to climb over the baby gate into the living/dining room. But it didn't go as planned. There was a cat on the other side of the fence, and I stepped on her head. As I tried to move my foot, the cat tried to move her head, and ...

And that's when I lost my balance.

The result was massive carnage, as deep fried bits of chicken flew off the plate, piece by piece, landing in various spots in the living/dining room whilst I attempted to stop my fall. Unsuccessfully.

Eventually, I crashed into the side of the door leading to the basement, the chairs that are upended to prevent J from entering the little landing to the basement, and the aforementioned baby gate. It hurt. A lot.

And as I crashed, I watched helplessly as the rest of the chicken flew off the plate. Piece by piece.

Now, through all of this, H was standing in the living room, not two feet away from me. And what, might you ask, did he do? Did he try to stop my fall? Did he help me up? Or did he just stand there, doubled-over in hysterics, laughing 'til the tears ran, like a jackass? Hmm. Let's see if I can remember. While I kick him.

Now, I am bruised and appear to have several pulled muscles in my torso. But as long as I can amuse my husband, isn't that what really matters?

Yah. I hope you enjoy your floor-chicken, buddy-boy.

**********

On another note, I received a very cool letter in the mail today:

"On behalf of the [Association's] Alberta Research and Education Fund, I congratulate you on being named the recipient of the Level 2 Tuition Scholarship. This $750 award recognizes the highest average for the 2005/2006 academic year."

The letter goes on to invite H and I to a very nice luncheon at a fancy-schmancy restaurant for the awards ceremony. A cool letter! $750! Lunch! Much wootness!

I hope they don't serve chicken.