Became Blogger by Bones

Well, there are some words that define who I am: Wife, mother, dentist, sister, inquisitive, stubborn, daughter, christian LDS, digiscrapper, gardener, brunette, and now.......blogger. Why now? Perhaps my inner self wanted to express itself and lack of grammar skills to the world or perhaps this is a way to track Princess Pea's milestones or maybe, just maybe... I have two broken legs allowing me to spend enthralling hours of time sitting in one of three places: the bed, the wheelchair, or the couch. And thus begins my illustrious career as a blogger; will I be successful at this new endeavor? Time will only tell... and I do have the time.

Here's the story, Morning Glory: On Thursday, September 6th the A family had successfully married off yet another daughter: my sister, Kristie to the honorable Jon G. Tired from the planning and execution of such an endeavor, we retreated for rest and relaxation to "the cabin" - in the beautiful High Uintas. Grandpa, Grandma, Mom, Dad, Lewis clan, hubby and I were loving the beautiful Friday evening in the Basin. We saw 5 deer eating in the alfalfa field just feet away from the cabin. Dad took E. and I took Pea out to see them. ( I am quite sure a 6 month old and 1 year old would appreciate these animals and remember them for years to come!) It is an important detail to note that Pea Pod was wearing the most adorable chipmunk hat - complete with little ears. As I gracefully descended the stairs outside the cabin, I inexplicably slipped on something. I see the concrete driveway become closer. All I think is to protect Livy from the fall. I twist holding onto the handrail to slow my fall. I hear a "crack" and think, "I've broken something." I fall on my backside. Princess Pea's scared and crying. Instantly she's picked up by someone...I don't remember who. They said "The baby's okay." I say, "It's broken" Dad and hubby try to get me to stand up, but I can't. Suddenly I'm boosted into Dad's new Chevrolet truck and hubby jumps in the back. I didn't even know if Dad or Grandpa was driving until we were almost to Altamont. We had 40 minutes of driving ahead to get to Roosevelt Hospital. I was pretty chatty the whole time - commenting on the passing owl, how I was planning an emergency kit and maps to the hospital as a Christmas gift and wasn't thinking I would ever need to use them. Dad is quite other than once in awhile trying to convince me or himself that I couldn't have broken anything by that fall. I looked at my unusually distended ankles and thought silently otherwise. At 7pm,
Roosevelt Hospital was dark. I am put in one of the curtained rooms and overhear a mother telling the doctor about a baby's ongoing spit-up even though she's visited the ER three times. I sit in my wheelchair and wonder where I am in the ER priority list. The baby scale is in my room and I get a glimpse of a large baby that could have played a part in Seinfeld - you all know the episode, so I won't say anything more.
Being someone with some medical knowledge I ask for some ice and to elevate my feet. Eventually, I get radiographs (having to boost myself up onto the bed!) Let's see, what am I needing xrays of?....oh yes, BOTH my legs.
Some time later a young man comes in and says, "You've broken your legs HERE. You will need an appointment with a bone doctor on Monday. " He then walks away. I say to his retreating back, "Thank you.... Dr....?" and he mumbles something without even turning around. Obviously the Seinfeld baby was more interesting or he was missing the end of his Lifetime movie. Sigh.
After asking for copies of the radiographs a couple of times and then asking if I may have some pain killers and perhaps a shot to get me through the 2 and a half hour drive to Salt Lake City, I am handed some crutches. And told I can leave. IN THE MIDDLE OF THE HOSPITAL! My husband and Dad say, "We're going to wheel her out in the wheelchair." No one came with us. Question: Is this a hospital? Yep, there's the big "H" outside on the building. Maybe that stands for "Who cares?" and they didn't realize that who starts with a "W" instead of "H". Hmmm...
Anyway, luckily, my LDS bishop is an ER doctor in Salt Lake. After consulting the radiographs he said I broke my left tibia and some metatarsals in my right foot. Luckily, this tibia break is one of the few tibia fractures that doesn't need surgery! Hurray! We are so blessed! But I do have to wear a huge boot on the left and a small wrapped boot on the right. Weeks in the wheelchair. Weeks after that on crutches. And three months after that until I can do anything other than a lazy stroll. Yep, I feel the blogger begin to take form inside me - please stayed tuned for: Tile vs. Carpet: a detailed wheelchair analysis of friction!