I, um, took the week off. Yea... decided that I just did not feel well enough to write. Oh- did I mention I BROKE MY FACE?! Well, I didn't exactly break it, someone else did. I finally feel good enough to write so here's the full version of what happened.
My mom often says that I am an "accident waiting to happen" or another favorite is that my head is like a magnet for things that are heavy, hard and/or fast. She's never really said it that way but I believe thats what she means. Well, last Sunday at my softball game that fact was proven yet again. I rounded third and came in to score. I stepped on home base after a pretty fast run, took two steps and that is when the heavy, hard and fast object smacked me in the face. BAM. Someone made a bad throw to get me out at home I guess. Well the run counted but they got me- thats for sure. George was there (Praise God) and he said I turned and gave him "the look". The look that means, get over here- now- something is not right. It did not hurt right away but my teeth on the left side were raised what seemed like an inch in my mouth. I was numb from all the adrenaline and if I were doing that November challenge everyone is doing on Facebook, the number one thing I am thankful for would be, "I am thankful for adrenaline". Think about it. God put our bodies together by grand design. It was no accident that he programed our bodies to give us a magical shot of analgesic the minute we first experience pain and/or shock. God is good. As I walked to the bench, I sure hope I was not rude because all I wanted was my husband. I think I had that line on repeat, "I just want my husband" each time someone asked me if I was OK. So- we iced it and in all the chaos something shook me loose of the focus on me and my jaw and let me see my child, my sweet child, who had his own phrase on repeat "What, Mommy? What?" I felt so bad and shook off my tears and explained to him in a way that a three year old could understand what had happened to mommy. Poor child. This is the same child who about a year ago saw his daddy fall down as he played beach volleyball and bawled his little eyes out. So we got to the car and George wanted to wait it out and see how I felt later. I think my face said it all because he quickly changed his mind and said OK- what ER should we go to? Out of desperation, we called some new friends of ours to see if they would take little George. This is about the third time we have had to ship our little boy out to another family in desperation. It turns out they were headed straight for the town where I play softball. They were on their way to a party to decorate pumpkins with their little girl. We stood there as George put the carseat in his car and I explained to the husband what happened. My son reached up for his hand and held it as we talked. This was such a gift from God. I was worried about my son being scared or uncomfortable with this plan, but not anymore. It was obvious that he was comfortable. And I will never forget Jennie's face once George was all buckled in his carseat. She took my shoulders and said with her angelic blonde hair and sparkly gold eyeshadow, "You are not putting us out, we will take good care of him, I promise. You go take care of yourself and don't worry". And she's not even Southern. This meant the world to me. We decided what ER to go to and after 5 hours, some X-rays and a CT scan, we had a diagnosis. My mandible (bottom jaw) was broken in two places and considered an "open fracture" because of the blood between my teeth. If it had been broken in just one place, they would have sent me home on antibiotics but no, two breaks makes it unstable and I would go to surgery on Tuesday. It would be up to the surgeon if I needed metal plates or fixation. Another miracle happened- the attending came in and said he wanted to do the surgery that night. Praise God. So by 2:00 AM I was under anesthesia after a discussion about my home state of North Carolina that I barely remember. The next few hours was a blur. George stayed with me all night and "slept" in a chair from 5:30-6:30 AM. Our friends let little George spend the night and we found out later that he stayed up until midnight. We felt SO bad but were also thankful we had arranged for him to be elsewhere. I ate two "meals" of chicken broth Monday in the hospital before they discharged me and headed to the pharmacy for all my scripts. Once George got me home and tucked into bed it was little George's nap time. I could not sleep but both Georges slept like logs for a good three hours. I was up and about, folded laundry and checked email, made sure to update my status on Facebook so that it was officially something that had happened to me. Before I go on, this was NOT a good idea. I should have just sat in bed. I was worn out by dinner time. And HUNGRY. Meet my new best friend, Hungry. Hungry, meet all my blog readers out there, you will hear a lot from each other in the next long while because I am on a liquid diet for at least four weeks. And everything I've read says even when the wires come off, you cannot dive into a hamburger right away. You have to retrain your jaw to chew so the first week is mostly soft pureed foods too. So change that to five weeks of hunger. My mom decided to come which made all three of us completely ecstatic. She missed her first flight which would have put her in LA around 7pm in time to fix my hungry boys dinner. That same friend who took George for the night texted me just in time to say that she would bring chili over. I just cannot get over the kindness and thoughtfulness of some people. Lord, help me be as giving and selfless as my friends and family. Her chili was perfect and she made cornbread too. It hit the spot for the boys and I admit, I blended some and it was good to me too. Mom arrived Tuesday. Need I say more? We didn't do much Tuesday except go to the grocery store in search of anything puree-able. That was also too much for me and I should have stayed home. Wednesday Mom jumped right in with the housework and began to cook meals. Before nightfall she had made four different soups, two chicken pot pies, and a huge pot of her famous spaghetti sauce. Not to mention she entertained little George, changed all the sheets and did about four loads of laundry. I lost count- maybe she did six. At any rate, we all had a hot meal and a clean bed when we hit the hay Wednesday night. Thursday was one of the worst days for me. Headache, nausea, tired, weak, my old friend hungry....all were present on Thursday. I could not miss little George's show at preschool for Halloween so we went to that and I had to talk to everyone about what happened. It was nice to have support so I should not complain, but it just simply hurt my mouth to smile and talk. But his show was super cute and all the kids were dressed up and they sang the most precious little songs. Well, they did not really sing... they listened to the poor teacher sing by herself. That night I pulled myself together and walked down the street to trick or treat. George had such a good time. I really do not care for the holiday myself but I have to admit, it is fun to see your child experience it. He got lots of good candy and chose Nerds and Twizlers as his two treats for the evening. Big George never made it home to see him in his costume. That was a little sad, but like I said, its not my favorite holiday so if he has to miss something, I'm happy with Halloween getting the raw end of the deal. The best thing that happened Thursday, was a box that came in the mail. My friends, my sister and my parents split the cost of a JUICER and sent it to me. One question. What kind of friends buy a juicer for their hurt friend? Answer- MY friends. I have - without a doubt - the best friends and family ever. I was speechless when I opened it. How thoughtful and generous. I mean. So mom and I got right to it and juiced everything in sight. It was a good pick-me-up for this rough day. Friday I turned a corner. Maybe it was the fresh juice. Mom cleaned my entire house top to bottom. She's a professional. How come when I clean my sinks they still look dirty and when she cleans them they look like the Comet commercial? So bright you cannot even look straight at it. So now I have a freezer full of food, a clean house, clean laundry, fresh sheets, and a smoothie in my hand. Friday night we had pizza- well, they had pizza- and watched The Prince of Egypt. Saturday morning George had to take mom pretty early to the airport. When she got there they told her it would probably be Tuesday before she got home. She was able to fly standby as a favor from my uncle who is an airline pilot so no flight is set in stone. Since there was a shooting at LAX Friday all the flights were overbooked for Saturday. I prayed for a miracle because as much as I wanted her to stay, she needed to get back to her life which includes helping a lot of other folks. I think her gift is giving. She gives and gives and gives to anyone and everyone. She never thinks about what she will get out of the deal. She never stops to check her energy gauge to see if she might be wearing herself out. She keeps on giving everywhere she goes, giving the first fruits to everyone she meets. Sometimes I am intimidated by her love and her sacrifice for me. How can I ever repay her, no- not even that...How can I ever tell her how much I appreciate her? If I can be one eighteenth of the person my mother is, I will be proud of myself. And if I can ever get her spaghetti sauce recipe down pat, I will make my husband a happy man. We thought we would have to go back to LAX to pick her up but miraculously, she got on. And she got on her connection in Charlotte and then called me from her bed in Wilmington to tell me all about her trip and to make sure I got enough protein today. So she is home, and about to rest her head and body for whatever tomorrow brings and whomever God calls her to help. Our little family was sad to see her go but glad she was able to make the trip. Its hard to say who will miss her most; will it be me- who needed a lot of practical help and love, or my husband who benefitted with hearty meals and a clean house or will it be little George who had a constant playmate and buddy? Today is Sunday again, one week from my injury. All I can think of are the blessings that came from this.
1. Six inches above or below where the ball hit me would have been traumatic
2. George was at the game
3. Our friends' ability to pick our son up and take him for the night
4. Speedy (ish) care in the ER and immediate surgery instead of a two day wait
5. Out of the hospital the next day
6. My mom was able to come
7. George was able to take two days off because of his co-fellow being so willing to cover
8. My friends sent me a juicer to help keep nutrients in me
9. Cards, flowers and well wishes from loving friends and family and my team
10. George being a doctor and a perfect father and husband through all this. All my meds are in liquid form and he has to mix them correctly. So thankful for all the ways he has made me and our son a priority. So thankful for the patient way he encourages me and tells me to hang in there. He tells me he's proud of me.
I can make it through this.
WOW. Love you. Will be praying you through this.
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