Accidents

I'm writing this post through tears. I have a box of tissues right at my side and I'm using them. Not because I'm sad but because I managed to cut my eye this afternoon and it won't stop hurting or tearing up. I was opening a ziploc bag this afternoon with one hand. So I clutched the other end in my teeth. At least until it slipped and cut straight across my eyeball. I said some very choice words and instantly pull my hand over my eye. When I could see through the tears I realized that I still had my sight so no need to go to the ER. But the recovery is a tad frustrating. Every time I move my eyeball it hurts. Every time I blink it hurts. And every time it tears up, my nose starts to run.

That got me thinking about accidents and injuries. I've spent most of my life worrying about accident. Things that could go wrong to get me injured. I stress about car accidents, plane crashes, and falls. I've worried about every type of injury possible it seems like. But I've realized that the things that do go wrong, most often aren't things that you think about. I could never have predicted I'd cut my eye on a bag. I never would have guessed most of the injuries that have happened to me in life. Accidents are just that. Things that go wrong that you wouldn't even begin to prepare for. And that makes me wonder why I worry. Unless it's about ziploc bags, my new enemy.

The Straw That Broke the Camel's Back

I've finally managed to do it. I broke a bookcase. I knew it was just a matter of time. I'm nice to my books, hard on my cases.

I have five bookcases in my library: one for books I still have to read, one and a half for fiction, one and a half for nonfiction, and one for children's books. My children's book bookcase decided that it had had enough this past week. The second shelf, which holds picture books, broke and dropped its contents to the floor. Jeff was watching TV on Friday when he heard a loud crash and the cat come running down the stairs. He went upstairs to find my books all over the floor.

Here you can see where the shelf had been

He piled my books up on the bed we have in the library and called me. So now I have to go out and find a new bookcase. My idea is that this next one will be a quality case. Something that will move with me from house to house. Something I can show off. Not the cheap plyboard ones I bought from Target years ago. They've held up, but my bookcases have to be strong. I finally pushed one to the breaking point. Who knows how long the others will last. Particularly with this load.

Bumper Cars

Murphy's Law seems to say that the better your self-confidence is, the more likely you are to have something bring you back down to earth. I've been having a good week. A great week really. So of course Murphy decided to remind me that I'm only human. With the most bone-headed move in the history of bone-headed-ness.

I hit a gravel pile. Not only did I somehow manage to not see a 3 foot high pile of gravel but I ran into it hard enough to put a significant dent in my bumper. I was driving over to Wild Birds Unlimited this afternoon to pick up some seed. Traffic had been slow on the way there and I was a bit nervous after watching the person in front of me swerve repeatedly into the next lane. So I should have been ultra-cautious. Instead, I was so relieved to get away from them. I turned into the parking lot which was having work done. I drove around a gravel truck that was almost too far into the intersection to let me in. I was still thinking about my brush with the truck, when my car stopped. Okay well first there was a loud bang, then I stopped.

My first reaction was that I'd found the deepest pothole imaginable. That's when I realized that my front drivers side tire was up higher than the others. And right in front of me was a gigantic pile of gravel. In my defense it was the same color as the pavement. But I should have seen it. I should have been able to easily avoid it. But I didn't. I'm not proud of this fact. I'm just saying.

I put the car in reverse and stepped on the gas lightly. Nothing. I could hear my wheels spinning but no traction. I rocked the car and hit reverse. I was just about to get out and call Jeff when two of the construction workers working on the parking lot came over. They pushed the car off the pile and checked out the damage. The plastic front bumper had been pushed in at least a foot. There was gravel in every nook and cranny. I offered the guys money, got back in the car, called Jeff, and immediately broke into tears. I drove home without bird seed and we took the car in for an estimate. Luckily the mechanic was able to pull it back mostly into shape. We're still getting a new bumper but at least I'm not constantly reminded of the disaster. Thanks Murphy. Now I'm back to normal.

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.