Saturday, January 12, 2002
Adria here. I was discharged yesterday seemed like a little after noon. I have not been conscious of the time of day or night since Monday morning when my little world came tumbling down the stairs and splintered into pieces. It seems like just when things start to look up -- some rock comes flying out of the sky and bops me on the head. I must have some horrid Karmic debt to pay.
The pain was more intense, excruciating and long lived than anything I have yet experienced. There was definitely some solace with the bones being set in surgery. Also, the lingering anesthesia and the Demerol and Phenegren injections really gave me relief which I now think of as a false sense of security. I was quite the superwoman getting up on that walker and walking down that hospital hall. I was convinced that I would get past this much more quickly than Keith.
That was Tuesday -- I think. By late Wednesday, the Demerol pump quickly became of little assistance. I would say that the pain has gotten worse every day since -- but the truth probably is that the drugs were better in the first few days in the hospital and I was not moving as much. I have pain in my foot near the bone that protrudes from the ankle, The top part of the foot at the ankle. The Tibia about two to three inches from the ankle. The Fibula about one inch above the ankle and about two inches below the knee on the right side. I hold out hope that his will pass quickly and I will be able to be functionally less dependant soon, but experience tells me that I am kidding no-one. In short, my ankle is a total wreck.
Love is as Keith does. He brought me back from the brink of total hysteria just after I fell and immediately went about taking care of everything that our little family needed. He remembered to throw my prescriptions in my purse so that the emergency room doctors would know what I am on. He has never complained or moaned once -- though I kinda wish he would. He has been by my side -- save the nights when he came home to sleep as opposed to staying in the hospital with me. It hurt my feelings, well I guess mostly I was just frightened being alone in such a defenseless state. I almost fell twice trying to go to the bathroom alone. Then I agreed to the bedside potty. How diminishing!
I am so out of shape. I am not fit to tote myself around with a walker or crutches -- it hurts my hands like all get out. The wheel chair is ok -- but my back is killing me, my neck is stiff and both of my wrists hurt. I could mostly SCREAM.
This is all my own fault -- being so careless -- I should have tossed those damned shoes months ago. I need to lose about fifty pounds and I need to feel better and participate more in the girls activities. I would love it if Keith would make that kind of commitment with me. Silence -- is usually the response I get.
I am tired and off to take a nap. This just seems like the most rotten luck right now -- but someday, Iíll figure out why it all happened. And it will make sense. I hope.