Starting my New Year with a snap, crackle, and pop

I wish I could say that I made Rice Crispy treats and that is the reference. Instead I stepped on some ice badly and my feet went out from under me. I caught myself with my ankle and landed in the middle of the street. Jeff was with me and immediately came to my aid. The pain was intense but I was aware enough that I knew I needed to take my shoe off. The sound I had made just told me that I'd broken something.

Jeff and my dad (I was in front of my parents' house) loaded me into the car and we had a bit of bumpy ride to the Emergency Room. After x-rays and a couple hours of waiting the doctor informed me that I'd broken both my fibula and my tibia (the leg bones connected to the ankle bone, the ankle bones connected to the.... :-) ). In fact, I was broken in three different places. He sedated me and reset the bone right there in the ER. They casted the foot and sent me home with the promise to see the orthopedic doctor on Monday morning. I didn't sleep that night because of the pain and all through Sunday I lay on the couch. I've gotten pretty good with the crutches and the pain has gone down quite a bit. I'm almost comfortable.

I went in for my appointment with the ortho doctor early this morning. He walked in, showed me the x-rays and instantly started talking surgery. I guess the break was so bad that there would have been little stability with a conventional treatment. Instead a surgery would make it stable and possibly speed recovery. Considering I've never broken anything or really even been in the hospital for myself, this was nerve wracking. I went from fine three days ago, to broken, to my first surgery in less than 72 hours. I remember being taken into the Operating Room. The anesthesialogist said that he would be giving me some oxygen and starting the anesthetic. I remember saying that I was a bit dizzy and then I was out. I woke up an hour and a half later in recovery. The doctor came in to say that the break had actually been a lot worse than he had thought. I spent an hour or so in recovery and then went home to pizza, a comfy couch, and the occasional nap. Although it's not something I recommend I realize that this could have been a much worse accident. And I've been lucky with the number of friends and family offering assistance. I may be broken, but I'm still pretty blessed.

Book Review: Population 485

My aunt and uncle were in town at the end of January from Chicago. They had come in to take my great aunt back and to watch the Super Bowl. We had a fantastic time with them, talking music and books and family and football. My aunt was reading the book Population 485: Meeting Your Neighbors One Siren at a Time by Michael Perry. I mentioned that I had heard great things about the book and wouldn't mind reading it. I said I'd grab it from the library eventually.

So I was shocked last week when a package arrived from my aunt. After she finished the book she had shipped it to me. I opened it on Friday and haven't wanted to stop reading. This memoir is wonderfully told. Perry describes how he moved back to the little Wisconsin town he had grown up in and joined the town's fire department. He trained as a firefighter and an EMT and started fitting back into the old neighborhood. As a writer in a mostly blue collar town he talks about the difference between him and his neighbors but mostly the similarities. Perry does not tell the story as a straight narrative but in little vignettes that give you a great idea of the place and the people. This is a book about how community and people can change and enhance you.

For three years Jeff worked as a volunteer firefighter and EMT for our previous city, so the stories are somewhat familiar. The two a.m. alarm calls that stir you out of a sound sleep and set your heart racing. The dinners interrupted for false alarms. And the discussions after he had come home from a tough EMT call. Perry describes what it is like to climb into burning buildings but he does it without all the glorifying heroism that firefighting is often cast in. He shows how real the people are instead. In fact, one hilarious chapter called Oops, describes how he sometimes feels so unheroic when making mistakes in uniform.

He reminds us that EMTs and firefighters are not perfect but he also shows the amazing compassion and dedication that so many of them have. When my sister was going through Paramedic training (and Jeff said the same thing) she mentioned that the hardest part and the best part is that you are meeting people on what may be the worst day of their lives. Hardest because there is often nothing you can do... but best because at least someone is there to offer aid. Perry says a very similar thing. We can feel how much he cares.

This book discusses both the tragedy of firefighting/EMT along with the comedy and real human element. He describes the happy times, sad times, and sometimes just boring times. We get to know both Perry and the people surrounding him. We hear the stories of his brothers and mother (also EMTs and firefighters). We hear stories of the townsfolk and the emergencies that connect them. And we get a feel for the land itself. It is a beautiful book. I have handed it off to Jeff to read. I will be curious how it matches his experiences.

{Edit: While on Michael Perry's website Sneezing Cow, I discovered a couple new books of his that I really want to read but also that he will be in Des Moines in June. Yay!!}