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.

Saturday Night at the...Emergency Room?

Last night I learned the true meaning of terror. As most of you know, I've been dealing with Bronchitis for the last couple weeks. I do a lot of unproductive coughing, deal with mild chest pain, and complain to everyone around me. Last night, it turned scary.

I sat up playing until about midnight last night. I'd been a good day of visiting friends and relaxing and I was feeling good. Not even any anxiety. Most nights I wake up with some sort of coughing fit and last night was no exception. About 1:30 I woke up coughing, then gasping, then choking. My larynx decided that it was done with all the abuse it has taken the last couple weeks and closed in what is called a laryngospasm. I felt like I was suffocating. Jeff heard me struggling for breath and raced up the stairs. He arrived and helped me to the floor. I was light-headed from lack of oxygen. And apparently that was the magic remedy. As I lay on the floor my throat opened and I was finally able to breath again. Jeff bundled me into the car and we drove (rather quickly I must say) to the ER.

I used to tell people all the time that with the number of times Jeff's been to the ER, I've never had the opportunity to go for myself. That part is true. I've never had to go to the emergency room for me. I've never had a reason. But as I walked into the waiting room (blissfully empty) I was shaking and still pulling a bit for air. The lady behind the desk asked for my name and birthday and then her eyes went wide when I told her I had stopped breathing. She immediately printed out a wrist bracelet and I was whisked behind the closed doors and set up on my very own cot. Since they were short on rooms I got a spot in the hallway. Jeff and I ended up spending from about 2 until 4 last night in the emergency room. I was attended to pretty frequently and everyone was incredibly nice. It made a scary experience a little more relaxing. I'm currently living on about four hours of sleep but I'm a little afraid of coughing. And sometime this morning I'm running out to get the "good" cough syrup I was prescribed.

But last night had to be the scariest night of my life. I've never felt that close to death and I have to say that a suffocating death would not be pretty. I can't wish that on my worst enemy. Today I'm still nervous that it will happen again but mostly I'm just happy to be alive. And counting my blessings. I think it will be a long time before I take breathing for granted again.