Something to Write Home About was the record that defined my teen angst. It spoke to me. Matt Pryor had somehow extracted all of my feelings, all of my ideas, and managed to transform them into sweet serenades that accompanied break-ups, triumphs and catastrophes. So when Joe bought me tickets to see The Get Up Kids at the Paradise on March 6th for Christmas, I was beyond excited.
And then, two weeks before the show, I broke my stupid leg. Joe called the venue and was told that they would be able to make accommodations for the wheelchair and we were really pumped we would be able to see the show. I assumed they would have a little area towards the back or the side of the room, roped off, so I wouldn't be in the way. I couldn't have been more wrong.
We got to Allston and found parking relatively close by. Joe wheeled me in and we were escorted behind the crowd all the way to the other side of the room. I assumed we were heading towards the back, as I had originally thought, but instead we started working our way up towards the front.
Our escort brought us directly to the stage, next to stage left. The crowd was behind a barricade, which we were in front of, and about 6 inches to my right were the stairs to get onto the stage. Joe was given a VIP sticker and there we were. I was pretty much in shock. I had no idea we would be actually closer than the "front" row.
The opening band was fun but nothing prepared me for the awe-struck, crazy fan euphoria that would hit me when The Get Up Kids came on stage. They played an amazing mix of old, newer and newest songs off all their records. They still had the same charisma and charm that they had when I was 16. Le sigh.
After their amazing set (I swear I'm not biased), Matt Pryor walked off stage and handed me his set list. Like, actually handed it directly to me. I probably looked like an idiot - sitting there in a wheel-chair, mouth agape and practically drooling. I think I said thank you? I hope I said thank you.
I have since framed that set-list and will never forget the night I spent only a few feet away from those guys. I suppose this broken leg is good for something, because that was definitely a red letter day.
Monday, March 21, 2011
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
I get by with a little help.
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| Dislocation. |
I'm still standing. Albeit only on one leg, but I'm still standing. Here's a brief synopsis of the past few weeks:
Tuesday February 22nd
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| 3-D CT Scan Images. |
Initial Appointment with the Trauma Surgeon
- Saw the x-rays and ct scan that were taken during my visit to the emergency room. Brutal.
- Doctor tells us surgery is the only option. He's actually never seen a break quite like this. Hmmmm.
- I won't be able to put any weight on my leg for 8-12 weeks. Excuse me?
Surgery Day - Hooray!- Doctors, nurses, anesthesiologist, candy stripers, etc. were all extraordinarily comforting. A huge departure from the ER doc I kindly likened to a piece of furniture.
- Surgery was a success! Two metal plates and a bunch of screws later I'm admitted to my own room a few floors up.
- Little did I know I was on the "Women's" floor...aka Labor and Delivery. Are you joking? When I was awakened by a woman screaming bloody hell followed by a baby crying, I quickly realized it was no joke.
- Two days, a bunch of meds and a lot of pain later, I was released.
Post-Op Appointment
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| The big incision. |
- Dressing was removed (which was absolute bliss) and replaced and some of the staples were removed as well. Joe couldn't watch that part, but I thought it was pretty sweet.
- More x-rays were taken. Let's just say I won't be getting through security at Logan anytime soon.
- Doc confirmed the not so awesome news - minimum 8 weeks off my leg. "Off" as in absolutely no weight. BUT he did say that for a week after surgery I was looking pretty good.
- Rented a wheel-chair. Just because I can't technically "walk" doesn't mean I won't be rolling around. Haha. Rolling around! Plus my arms are going to be nice and toned for the summer. No complaints about that.
- Still have to keep it elevated. All day. Every day. Ugh.
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| Swollen much? |
So, I haven’t blogged at all the past two weeks. My excuse? That the pain was pretty intense and the medication made me a little loopy. But to be honest, the real reason was that the whole ordeal made more emotional that I had expected.
Physically and mentally I felt defeated, despite my initial optimism immediately following the accident. Seeing my body broken and bruised was scary. Not being able to do things on my own that I readily take for granted, like walking my dog or taking a shower, was a jarring. It still is. But it also brought me to a harsh realization.
I’m only mortal. I’m not bullet-proof (or ice-proof). Despite my extremely independent nature, I’ve realized it is ok to ask for help. In order to get healthy and stay sane, I have to. And how lucky am I to have an unbelievable support system that I can turn to?
So the defeatist attitude is out. And Kelly is back…with a little help from my friends.
Monday, February 21, 2011
Day 3
The term "yard sale" refers to when a skier falls down a mountain and his/her skis, poles, hat, etc end up strewn all over the mountain. Thus looking a lot like your good, old-fashioned neighborhood junk sale.
On Saturday, February 19th, I had a yard sale so epic that I not only dislocated my ankle, but broke my tibia and fibula (lower leg bones) in so many places that the bones shattered. To be frank: my lower leg is a pile of mushy skin and bone.
When arriving at the emergency room, the doctors and nurses assumed I had been in some sort of accident. One even asked if I had been in a car accident! But no. I was not sking, or snow-boarding, or driving, or snowmobiling, or doing anything that would be considered a safety hazard in the least bit...unless you're me, of course.
I was walking. Walking down my own driveway. Granted, the fall was the result of some very camouflaged black ice and unless I had super-hero status night vision goggles, there was no way I could have seen the danger. But still. Come on, Kel.
An x-ray was taken and after that, a doctor with the bed-side manner of a table lamp came in and told me he would have to re-set my ankle. Wait, what? I thought I was hallucinating from the IV pain medications. I knew the top of my foot looked like someone had shoved a baseball up underneath my skin, but having someone pop a bone back into place was not an option. Not an option Dr. Lamp. All I could think of was Callie from Grey's Anatomy and her sadistic glee when she had a patient with a dislocation. Is it really that fun? Because from where I was laying at that moment it did not seem like fun. I hate you, Callie.
Apparently it was my only option and after some tears, harsh words to the table-lamp posing as my doctor and some re-assuring words from the nurse, I relaxed and gave in to the inevitable. I was awake and it was horrific, but I'll leave it at that.
I had a CT-scan taken once my leg was wrapped in a padded splint and the table lamp came back in to tell me how bad it really was. Surgery was necessary. Bummer. I was given the option to go home with some pain meds, to which I gladly obliged. I have appointments with two different Orthopedic surgeons on Tuesday to go over surgery options, recovery, etc. I have a pretty good feeling I will not be booking surgery with Dr. Lamp, thus the second appointment.
It is now three days after the yard sale of epic proportion and I am already getting ancy. Which leads me to why I am starting this blog. I love writing and I have been talking about starting a blog for years. Since I am going to be out of work for weeks and possibly even months (yeah, my leg is that bad...never thought I would have to use disability at the ripe age of twenty-six), I am going to have a LOT of time on my hands. So why not do all the things I have been wanting to do, but have never given myself enough time to do?
Some of my Must Do! list (sky-diving, visit the Grand Canyon, purchase a kayak) will have to wait for obvious reasons. But many of the others will be more than attainable without the use of a leg: learning guitar/bass, beating Super Mario Brothers, tracing my family lineage, starting a jewelry line and starting a blog.
I could say that the reason I'll be writing about my injury is because it will be such a big part of my life the next few months, but that would be a lie. The real reason is because I think it's going to be quite hilarious. I have no doubt the stories will be quite entertaining (and cathartic); the wheelchair I will undoubtedly hit someone with; the Grey's Anatomy references I will be able to make; going to get a pedicure in a gigantic hot-pink cast. All comedy gold...or at least worthy of a spot on America's Funniest Home Videos.
But my intent is to also document all my Must-Do! list items that I will finally have the time to do and enjoy because of my injury, in the hopes that once I am back on my feet, I always give myself the time for the things I consider a must-do. And hopefully I won't have to break a bone again in order to do so.
On Saturday, February 19th, I had a yard sale so epic that I not only dislocated my ankle, but broke my tibia and fibula (lower leg bones) in so many places that the bones shattered. To be frank: my lower leg is a pile of mushy skin and bone.
When arriving at the emergency room, the doctors and nurses assumed I had been in some sort of accident. One even asked if I had been in a car accident! But no. I was not sking, or snow-boarding, or driving, or snowmobiling, or doing anything that would be considered a safety hazard in the least bit...unless you're me, of course.
I was walking. Walking down my own driveway. Granted, the fall was the result of some very camouflaged black ice and unless I had super-hero status night vision goggles, there was no way I could have seen the danger. But still. Come on, Kel.
An x-ray was taken and after that, a doctor with the bed-side manner of a table lamp came in and told me he would have to re-set my ankle. Wait, what? I thought I was hallucinating from the IV pain medications. I knew the top of my foot looked like someone had shoved a baseball up underneath my skin, but having someone pop a bone back into place was not an option. Not an option Dr. Lamp. All I could think of was Callie from Grey's Anatomy and her sadistic glee when she had a patient with a dislocation. Is it really that fun? Because from where I was laying at that moment it did not seem like fun. I hate you, Callie.
Apparently it was my only option and after some tears, harsh words to the table-lamp posing as my doctor and some re-assuring words from the nurse, I relaxed and gave in to the inevitable. I was awake and it was horrific, but I'll leave it at that.
 |
| Ouch! |
It is now three days after the yard sale of epic proportion and I am already getting ancy. Which leads me to why I am starting this blog. I love writing and I have been talking about starting a blog for years. Since I am going to be out of work for weeks and possibly even months (yeah, my leg is that bad...never thought I would have to use disability at the ripe age of twenty-six), I am going to have a LOT of time on my hands. So why not do all the things I have been wanting to do, but have never given myself enough time to do?
Some of my Must Do! list (sky-diving, visit the Grand Canyon, purchase a kayak) will have to wait for obvious reasons. But many of the others will be more than attainable without the use of a leg: learning guitar/bass, beating Super Mario Brothers, tracing my family lineage, starting a jewelry line and starting a blog.
I could say that the reason I'll be writing about my injury is because it will be such a big part of my life the next few months, but that would be a lie. The real reason is because I think it's going to be quite hilarious. I have no doubt the stories will be quite entertaining (and cathartic); the wheelchair I will undoubtedly hit someone with; the Grey's Anatomy references I will be able to make; going to get a pedicure in a gigantic hot-pink cast. All comedy gold...or at least worthy of a spot on America's Funniest Home Videos.
But my intent is to also document all my Must-Do! list items that I will finally have the time to do and enjoy because of my injury, in the hopes that once I am back on my feet, I always give myself the time for the things I consider a must-do. And hopefully I won't have to break a bone again in order to do so.
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