Hello again! I know this post is long, long, overdue, so I apologize. *laughs* Most of you know I broke my foot the day I flew back form New Hampshire. When I did my post about that trip I mentioned it. As I wrote that post my foot was resting in my walking boot. Today I'm glad to report that I'm back to normal and all that's on my right foot is a sock.
The day we flew back from New Hampshire was a long day to say the least. I got up at three thirty when my alarm went off and hurried to get dressed. We needed to be at the airport in half an hour. We had two flights and with all the kids and everything it was a lot of work. But the flights went well over all and after what felt like an eternity I saw the mountains of home down below me.
We landed and my Grandpa picked us up in our big white van. We had an hour drive home from the airport and on the way Matthew, my toddler brother, told Grandpa all about the flights.
Home sure looked good after being gone twelve days. I helped unload suitcases before heading down the basement to my room to completely unpack. The next thing I did was head outside. I guess I missed my dog and my woods too much to wait despite being exhausted. Matthew begged me to take him and I agreed.
As we were outside I noticed that I had several texts on my phone trying to download. We don't really have service at our place unless you are inside the house and connected to WiFi. But I thought I might be able to get them to come through on our back deck. I told Matthew to wait for me in our sand box as I headed to the deck. I restarted my phone and left it on the table on the deck so that the messages hopefully had a chance to come in. Matthew shouted at me from the sand box to ask me if I was coming.
I hollered, "Coming," and started down the back deck steps. Maybe it was because my ears were messed up from flying and my balance was off or maybe it was because there was some wet soggy leaves on the steps, but mostly I think I was going too fast, but suddenly I realized I wasn't walking down the steps anymore but falling down them.
I'm not exactly sure what happened as I stumbled downward and my foot twisted beneath my weight. All I know is that I landed on my back at the bottom of the stairs, staring dazed at the steps rising above me. Emily (my older sister) came out the back door just then and saw me on the ground. She asked me if I was okay and I remember slowly sitting up. My right foot hurt pretty bad and I could feel my pulse in it, a steady, thud, thud, thud.
I forced words out around the pain, something like, "I don't know. Watch Matthew for me." Emily told me later that I acted chill in the moment and she didn't even know I was hurt very bad. I didn't feel chill but I do remember trying really hard to keep my tone even. I guess I succeeded.
Emily went to Matthew and I went in the house. The moment I stood up, pain shot up my right leg like a knife. I suddenly felt heat radiating off my right foot in waves. My body began to shake with shock. I somehow limped back up the steps and into the house (looking back, I'm not sure how) I managed to sit down on a chair in the living room.
I put my feet up and then I really became aware that something was actually wrong. I thought maybe I was overacting and I just needed to sit down for awhile but then my gut told me this was real when the pain didn't begin to ease since the impact but was only growing worse with each second.
My mom was taking a nap (did I mention that we'd just gotten back from a long trip and plane flight?) so I called to Jamen, my younger brother, who was in the other room. I don't remember what I said but he knew something was wrong right away. I remember him taking one look at me and saying something like, "What happened? You're shaking like a leaf."
It was true. My body was trembling with shock and pain so hard that my teeth were chattering in my head. I could hardly talk my teeth were chattering so hard. My younger brothers got my dad.
My dad looked at my right foot, which by now was beginning to have an unhealthy looking lump on the right side, and decided my mom needed to be woken up.
My mom didn't take long decide I needed to be brought in. She asked me to move my right foot and this was the scary part; I couldn't! All I got was a slight jerk when I tried. I tried my left foot and it moved in quick and smooth motions. Yep, something was definitely wrong with my right foot. We headed to Urgent Care.
X-rays showed a fracture of the 5th metatarsal bone. I was put into a boot until I could go to see a specialist about casting. That night I got home completely spent. Only that morning I'd been across the country and walking on two good feet. Now I was home (good thing) but walking with crutches (bad thing), just goes to show you how much can happen in just twenty four hours!
That night I snapped a picture to send to some friends and family. My right foot was slightly swollen and had bump on the right side. It turned purple the next day.
I was an invalid the first few days. I was in too much pain to do much. The laptop, good books, ibuprofen, and tylenol become my constant companions. I watched a few movies too.
Dark chocolate, one of my favorite things. My parents got me some for a get well present.
Just days after I broke my foot, my best friend Liberty's bridal shower came. I was maid of honor so I had to write down the gifts. I didn't do much else though and got waited on more than the bride to be since I was confined to a chair.
I watched everyone else decorate and gave out "wise advice", probably wasn't very wise actually, but the shower turned out beautifully.
My Bible was never far from my side. Despite how hard it was I am glad God gave me that time to slow down. It gave me a lot of time to think, pray, and read His Word.
My food was usually prepared for me by someone else. That humbles you. I don't think I ever said 'thank you' so much in my life. When you suddenly can't walk it really makes you look at life differently.
As long as the pain was dulled with ibuprofen board games were great. It was one of the few ways I could be 'active'.
I seen the specialist and got my foot casted. Now taking showers was a big chore, but the pain was a lot better because everything was lined up as it should be. The itching was pretty bad though!
Coloring was a new favorite pass time.
I read a lot while I was off my feet. Twenty-two books in all. This particular book was a really good read; deep and meaningful.
Old black and white movies are some of my absolute favorites. This one "Since You Went Away" takes place during WWII and was actually made during the war. I find films like that fascinating and rich in history.
My older brothers from Idaho came to visit and the younger kids piled up around their heads.
This is what you get when you try to get your brothers to smile. I guess if you can't beat 'em you join 'em, lol.
Doodling.
I got my cast off and was back in the boot! And I could walk short distances without my crutches. I thought I had found freedom like no other!
Just days after getting my cast off I stood in my best friend's wedding. You can't tell because of my long dress but I am wearing my walking boot. My foot, though mostly healed was not used to caring my weight anymore and I rested on my crutches or sat down as much as I could before the actual wedding. I felt like I shuffled in when the moment came for me to walk down the isle. I was worried my legs would give out during the service but they didn't and I pulled it off. It was a beautiful wedding and I was honored to stand with Liberty and witness her and Byron taking their vows.
Watching my dog through the window. It felt like it'd been forever since I'd been outside and I missed being able to go out and romp with him if I wanted.
We got snow several times this winter (which is unusual for us) and I took pictures from inside since I couldn't go out and enjoy it.
One good thing about it all...Chocolate. *winks*
Doodling on the white board.
Dessert and family dice game.
Enjoying the warmth of the fire.
I slowly switched from using crutches part time to not using them at all. And then I slowly transitioned out of my walking boot into a tennis shoe. And after that barefoot. The first day I went barefoot again it had been eight weeks since I'd fallen down the stairs. In a lot of ways a short time, but it felt like it had been forever since my foot was free. I was giddy that day.
I can still notice that my right foot is more sensitive or not as strong as it used to be. It takes time for it to fully heal and even then it will probably never be completely the same. But I learned a lot from my weeks off my feet. They were hard weeks but I'm glad I had them. Hard is not always bad and God ,our loving and gracious Heavenly Father, always has a plan.
Trust in Him, He holds you in the palm of his hand.
Until next time,
Damara Nancy
