Amaryllis sillyramA

But not completely un-mad, either. See, I had an accident. A stupid, stupid accident. About two and a half weeks ago, I’d just arrived at my parents’ house to have dinner and pick up the little one. I was apparently not paying enough attention to the complicated task of getting out of the car, and I slipped, and my foot shot out sideways and then my knee (or was it my whole being?) was just ow ow ow OW OW! OW! . . . I spent the next few hours on the couch, with ice, waiting to see if it was going to get better or worse, and being really mad. (“I don’t have TIME for this!”) Also fretting about work and texting M (my husband). And being cheered up by little sister A and her kids.

Eventually, since the swelling wasn’t going down, we made the decision to go to the ER. And since we didn’t know how bad it was and didn’t want to make it worse, we called for an ambulance. The EMTs came — luckily without sirens — and they were very nice and asked me a bunch of questions. (It was surprisingly uncomfortable being the center of that kind of attention.) Then they put my leg in this neat immobilizer contraption and put me on the stretcher and hauled me away. Luckily they allowed A to come along in the ambulance with me. M was to meet us there as soon as he could get there.

The ER experience was the easiest I’ve had yet. They put me in a private room immediately (really!) and proceeded to do exams and x-rays right away. There were short periods of waiting, but nothing unreasonable. They supplied me with a knee immobilizer and two crutches and a referral and a small supply of painkillers, and then sent me on my way.

We eventually got home and got settled in the guest room (no stairs that way). I got in to see my usual doctor (who happens to specialize in lady parts and sports medicine) four days later, and had an MRI six days after that, and a second consultation two days after that. (All the while trying to figure out how the heck to walk around on crutches, and finding out that vicodin makes me feel too weird.)

Here’s what the MRI people found:

1. Minimally impacted fracture of the lateral tibial epiphysis.
2. Multiple areas of bone contusion invovling the proximal tibia and lateral femoral condyle.
3. Possible grade 1 sprain near the femoral origin of the ACL.

My doctor’s translation: compression fracture of the tibia (shin bone) resulting in a deep bone bruise, and sprained ACL (which is rare, usually it just breaks). At least I think that’s what she said. I should really write things down more often. The upshot: NO SURGERY! Yay! A hundred times Yay! I just have to ice it and do quad exercises and keep off it until it feels better. I go back for a follow-up in a few weeks. Until then, it’s like bed rest most of the time so far. M has been taking care of me and the little one and, well, everything. He’s my hero. Seriously. I’m going a little stir crazy but not too bad usually. In a couple days I’m going to try going back to work for a few hours and see if there’s any way I can be useful there.

So that’s why I was mad enough to swear. Thank you for your patience.

Ay ay ay! I forgot the palindrome! I think I thought we were still in February. So, ah, without further ado, this month’s palindrome:

Dammit I’m mad.

And I am, in fact, mad. Mad even enough to say Dammit! a lot of times. Explanation forthcoming . . .