I Don't Like Walking Anymore

I had a really productive day planned. I was going to blanch and freeze a bunch of tomatoes and corn and green beans I got yesterday. I was going to make hamburgers & homemade buns for dinner. I was going to get mulch from Home Depot and spread it around the plants we put in the other day. I was going to do laundry and make a bunch of phone calls.

But before I could do any of those things, I had to go for a walk. I didn't walk yesterday, and didn't want to miss two days in a row. So I set off after 7. It was a nice morning, brisk enough to make me wonder if my old sweatpants would fit me by next month, because it'll be really cool in the mornings then.

When I got to the bigger cross street, I did the usual blacktop foxtrot--step out to see if cars are coming, step back when you see that there are, dart across when it's clear. I was looking for cars; I wasn't looking for road debris, so I didn't see the loop of wire. I didn't see that until after I caught a shoe in it. Not until after I fell, in other words.

So I fell. Again. I skinned the opposite knee this time, so at least now I look kind of symmetrical. I put my hands out to break my fall, of course. (Later, Jeff said, "You have to stop doing that." "What am I supposed to do--lead with my face?" "Tuck and roll, baby.")

I scooted back to the curb, but couldn't get up right away. A lady stopped her car to see if she could help, but I said I'd be fine in a minute, and didn't need a ride the three blocks home. I got up after a minute, and started back. I was slow, but my legs & feet were fine, so it shouldn't be a problem, I thought.

By the time I'd gone a block, I was sobbing. It really hurt, and I was starting quite the pity party for myself. I got home and luckily Jeff hadn't left for work. As soon as he saw me, he called in to work and drove me out to the doc. On the way there, he said he's going to get me a hamster ball, so I can exercise without injuring myself.

Doc sent me for x-rays, and I was really hoping for nothing worse than a sprain. I hadn't heard a pop or felt that tell-tale burning feeling that signifies a broken bone. When she came back, she said that not only was it broken, it looked like a compression fracture, and she couldn't touch it because it might need surgery. She had set me up an appointment with an orthopedic surgeon.

When I saw him, I got one more x-ray, and he confirmed that surgery was necessary. I broke my radius right in the middle of the joint. He'll put a plate and screws in, because if he were to just cast it, that piece of bone could be pulled lower and lower by tendons, and I'd end up with a substantial loss of motion. As it is, there is a good chance I'll have some loss of motion anyway, but hopefully nothing too drastic.

I'm scheduled for tomorrow afternoon, and they're hoping to do a block instead of general anesthesia, so I'd be home that evening, but depending on how things go, I might have to stay overnight for observation.

Right now, it's wrapped & immobilized pretty well, so it only hurts when move my fingers. Guess what I'm supposed to do as frequently as possible? Move my fingers, of course. Jeff is going out to pick up dinner and my Tylenol 3 soon, though, so that will help. I'm sleeping in the recliner tonight so I can keep it as elevated as possible.

No song today. "Don't Go Breaking My Heart" could be amusing, but it could also be tacky, and I don't have the energy to find the link on YouTube.