Well, on the bright side, I'm still alive.

I wrote this in list form because it’s all a little overwhelming, and lists are therapeutic.  More so when I get to check things off.

1.       1. I have a tibia evulsion fracture (not what they said in the ER), and some damaged muscles.  I was ice skating and fell.

2.       2. The ACL fractured the bone and is currently unattached, floating around in space, with a small piece of   bone on the end.

3.       3. I don’t like surgery.  I don’t want to do surgery unless it’s absolutely necessary.  The doctors said it’s just fine and poses no risk to try to let it heal naturally.

4.      4. My physical therapist says a knee is either a “coper” or not a coper.  A “coper” will develop muscle around the knee to compensate for the missing ACL.  He named a couple of NBA player names that I’m sure everyone but me recognizes, and said that they went on to play professionally without an ACL.  That was encouraging.  I decided (God-willing) that my knee is definitely a “coper.”

5.       5. Physical therapy is hard and frustrating.  The things he tells me to do seem ridiculously easy, yet my muscles will not obey me and move when I tell them to.  I feel like some of them (muscles) are not even there (go figure).  There are six exercises I’m supposed to do once an hour.  The six exercises take me about 20 minutes to go through.  I think I’m going to have to work up to this.

6.       6. I’m very blessed.  Ladies from church have helped so much- cleaning, cooking, and caring.  My husband is awesome (even if I am upset about my messy house).  He loves spending time with his kids, cooking, and doesn’t mind looking after his invalid wife.

7.       7. I can now shower, get dressed, and possibly put my shoes on by myself (note to self: buy shoes with Velcro instead of shoelaces).  I can sweep the whole living room from a sitting position on the couches, and folding laundry is a breeze.  However, it is dangerous to try to carry plates, pieces of trash, piles of laundry, or a phone while operating crutches.  Also, those trash cans you open by stepping on them- it’s a trap; it looks easy, but doesn’t work the way you’d think it would.

8.       8. All in all, all is well- or will be.  I will get better, hopefully sooner rather than later.  My kids are safe and healthy; their guardian angels work overtime.  My husband is superman.  Priesthood blessings have made all the difference to me, and I’m very happy to have the Gospel in my life.  It makes everything better.