Laundry. Sibling rivalry. A quick breakfast. Us being late.
We scurried off to the kids’ bi-annual dentist visit. The kids got glowing reports, minus that chipped tooth of John Paul’s courtesy of his big brother. But before I was able to really give those two a good talking to, we had to jet home to grab the cooler and swimsuits for swim lessons.
I was set to head to Brownwood right after we finished the lessons to deliver Will to the Texas 4-H Center. He’s attending a three-day camp where he’s serving as a mentor for physically and mentally challenged kids. Man, it was going to be a great day.
That is, until “the incident.”
I was just moving a swim bag over to the chair, walking normally with Gianna in my arms. Before I knew it my flip flop hit a wet spot, my right foot went out from under me and in true momma bear instinct mode, I held G close with both arms and landed square on my left knee.
You know how sometimes you do something and you just know what happened but you talk yourself out of the reality? I knew, in an instant, I had broken my knee. But I did my darndest to talk myself out of it. At first, I didn’t say a thing to the kids and instead grabbed a cold water bottle from the cooler to ice down my knee. All while breathing deeply holding back the tears.
I’m totally fine. I’ll just swing by the house before we leave town, grab an ice pack and a few ibuprofen then we’ll be off to the 4-H Center.
[Moving my knee one quarter of an inch.]
Okay, maybe I should call to get an x-ray set up for after I get back. You know, just to confirm it isn’t broken.
[Quick call to the family doc who says he needs to see me before ordering the films.]
Crap. Well, maybe we’ll just swing by urgent care, I can be in an out in less than 30 minutes and THEN I can drive Will to his camp.
[Get up to walk. Break down in tears from the pain.]
Will looks at me and says, “Mom, you have to go to urgent care. I don’t have to go to camp.”
I cry harder and limp/walk/limp to the van. The pain is excruciating. I almost pass out. At this point, I still haven’t texted Scott because I know how high his pile of work is at the office. No need to cry wolf when it’s probably just badly bruised.
We pull up to urgent care and Will leaps out of the van, assuring me that I should stay put while he checks on the wait time. Less than 10 seconds later, he appears and tells me I’m next in line and the nurse is coming with a wheelchair.
Me and my six little ducks pile out of the van and into urgent care.
Will was a total rock star. I mean it. Calm, collected and a huge help. Honestly, I don’t know what I would’ve done without him there.
The next hour is spent parenting from a wheelchair, trying to keep everyone from spinning on the doctor’s stool and answering nurse and doctor questions. When the ER doc arrives, he’s just so kind, introducing himself to everyone in the room. I immediately ask, “So….how likely is it that I can fly to Charleston this weekend?” It’s only something I’ve been planning since LAST July. He peeks up from his paperwork and says, “What conference?” When I tell him it’s for moms, he smiles and says, “Catholic moms?” Sweet Lord, his wife is attending and he knows how much it means to me. Did I mention he has six kids and goes to the neighboring parish? Y’all. What are the odds?
Also, what are the odds that I break my knee cap at the pool?
Yep, the xrays confirmed a break of the patella. Not quite displaced and definitely not shattered. But, after a consult today with the ortho, we’ve decided to do surgery on Monday morning. He gave me his travel blessing and promises to mend me back to my old self on Monday. He drained a ton – and I do mean a ton – of blood from behind my knee cap and fitted me with a new leg brace. I am a new woman. That third spacing was causing me incredible amounts of pain.
There is a downside to all of this. I had to pass on my VBS stint next week due to the surgery and I am beyond sad. I love that ministry and to have to bow out this late in the game and leave such a big hole for the coordinator brought me great anxiety today. I’m trusting the Holy Spirit has this one all figured out. And, nursing Gianna the past couple of days has been tricky. Not impossible, but still an art form. Last night, it did not go well and as I lay her, screaming in her crib, I hobbled out of the nursery and completely broke down.
The reality of all of this finally hit me. No driving for at least two weeks, maybe more. Crutches. Dependence on other people. A summer, not at the pool. The pain, oh the pain. It was all just so absurd and ridiculous and sucky. Tears were all I had. Somewhere between sobs, though, I dug out my big girl undies and started finding solutions, seeing the grace and leaning into the generosity of others. It’s hard for this Type A momma to admit she needs help. None of us likes to wave the white flag, do we?
But it’s always in the moments of our brokenness that God’s light shines brightest. When our vulnerable heart cracks open, his love seeps in and takes over. While I am frustrated at this new 6-week bump in the road, I am grateful for many things: a clean break, two awesome doctors, a safe Gianna, helpful kids, a loving husband and so many generous friends and family. This #firstworldproblem just became a heavy dose of #godsgrace
Here’s hoping the rest of the week is as boring as possible. And also? Pass the beer and ibuprofen.