I get by with a little help.

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 

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? 

Thursday February 24th 
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.

Friday March 4th 
Post-Op Appointment

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.

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.