Look Ma! Two feet!!

My doctor's visit went well, my foot's healing, everthing's in the right place, and my doctor told me I could start trying to walk without the boot.

He gave me three rules:

1. No Running.
2. No Jumping.
3. No Falling. (Wah wah wah!)

When we left the office my mom and I decided to go to Target, 'cause why wouldn't we? She dropped me off at the door and I took my first non-booted steps. It felt like I was walking on a marshmallow, a magical, pain shooting marshmallow.

Yesterday I was able to walk without the boot through my first three class period, but by the end of 6th period I was hurting. Last night was also our AVID Awards Night, and I didn't want to wear jeans, so I put on a skirt, tights and flats and went with out the boot. It was probably too much, but I looked cute, so I felt like it was worth it.

I came home and put on the boot, frantically cleaning and packing for my trip to Utah this weekend for Mother's Day. Let me tell you a little something about me: When I get into a cleaning jag I become single minded. Let me tell you a little something else: Because I switched from shoe to boot midday I brought my left tennis shoe home in a Trader Joe's bag along with my water bottles and lunch stuff.

Sooooooooo to make a long story short, I cleaned and cleaned and cleaned until I had three bags of trash to take out. Although I was tired and my foot was hurting, I clomped down my stairs with three bags of trash narrowly avoiding rule #3.

On my way back from the dumpster, my neighbor congratulated me "Good job girl! Next you'll be running a marathon!" I felt all warm and fuzzy.

Later that night after I'd taken a bath and removed my boot I started to lay out my clothes for today and realized I couldn't find my left shoe. I searched everywhere, finally realizing that the Trader Joe's bag was no where to be found. "Where in the world did I put the...."

Oh.

Poopy.

I threw it away.

In the dumpster.

Downstairs.

So, because I was tired and couldn't stomach the idea of putting the boot back on I gimped my way downstairs with wet hair and no bra and jammies to pull my trash out of the dumpster to search for my missing shoe.


I got down there only to realize that the dumpster was nearly empty which meant that unless I had developed super human reach, broke rule #2, or both, I couldn't reach my garbage sacks.

I didn't feel warm and fuzzy. Instead I felt sweaty and prickly as I thought:

Oh

Poopy.

I have to go upstairs, get the step ladder, gimp back down here, and THEN pull trash out of the dumpster to find my shoe.

And that's what I did.

By the time I got back to my apartment with my shoe but without some of my dignity, my foot felt like it was on fire.

At least I didn't

Run
Jump, or
Fall.

THAT would have been bad.

Look What I Can Do!

As I mentioned in a previous post I attempted, but failed to make a homemade banana cream pie.

I considered giving up completely after the rubbery mass I produced the first time, but my mama didn't raise no quitter.

Soooooooo, although I live alone and knew I'd probably end up eating enough banana cream pie to make me puke and increase the size of my hiney, I persevered. I'm not one to back down from a challenge... especially one in pie form (mmmm pie).

The custard for this pie is made from brown sugar rather than white, and includes both cinnamon and nutmeg, so it's not the traditional vanilla custard used in banana cream pies. Intriguing, no? This time I knew a little better what I was doing, ignored some of the more confusing directions while making the custard and ended up with this:




instead of the rubbery industrial sludge I got last time.

Then, after waiting for the custard to set, I layered custard and bananas and custard and bananas and then made the topping from whipped cream, vanilla, and sour cream. It was so pretty when I finished:



Here's a cross section:



mmmmmmmmmm. And, it tastes better than it looks. Really. And if you don't believe me, ask these two people:


(actual yummy faces.)

If you'd like to have one of these lovelies for your very own you can find the recipe here. (Just don't cook the custard as long as they tell you to. When it get's to pudding texture STOP cooking people!!)

Why I will be seeing X-Men Origins: Wolverine

It's not because of this guy:



as lovely as he is (have you seen Australia? Probably not, but let me tell you....hubba hubba).

I'm going because this guy:



from my favorite tv show about high school sports is playing Gambit, a character who's super power is in some way related to fiery playing cards? Sorry X-Men nerds enthusiasts, I don't follow this stuff. I'm just in it for the cute boys.

But....the thing that made me decide to see this movie (even though I don't generally get excited about comic book related films) is that playing Hugh Jackman's half brother is this guy:



My boyfriend Alex (known as Aaron Jefferey in real life)! I know I might be the ONLY person in America who's decision to see this mega big budget shoot 'em up action film was made by the fact that a little known (in the U.S.) Australian television actor is playing a small supporting role.

But hey. That's how I roll.

The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly

1. The Good: My students participated in a Socratic Seminar on Elie Wiesel's Nobel Peace Prize Acceptance Speech today, and for the most part they did so well it made my teacher heart grow three sizes too big. One boy came up with two of the most complex, beautiful and applicable analogies to explain an important concept I have ever heard and caused me to think about Wiesel's words in a new light. Of course I had one group that decided that instead of having an open dialogue that they would fight for the sake of fighting and ignore my repeated warnings. I yelled. But the good thing is, I was able to calm down and give them constructive criticism when all was said and done.

2. The Bad: My doctor's appointment originally scheduled for tomorrow in Mesquite, NV has been rescheduled for NEXT Wednesday in St. George Utah. This is bad for a couple of reasons. a)It's another week before I can ask my doctor any questions or find out how long I need to wear this boot or how I'm coming along, and b)it's a further drive and a change in time zones. I'm going to have to leave school early, and even though it won't cost the district one thin dime (my prep period is last on Wednesdays) I'm going to have to take a half a day.

3. The Ugly: I attempted to make a banana cream pie from scratch today. I've never made a custard before and it ended up the texture of soft rubber and the color of sludge. It didn't taste bad (so I'll try it again), but it was a strange texture and it was UGGGGLLLLY.

Missing m'boy

(*not Austen)

When my doctor first told me I'd be off my feet for 6 weeks I imagined jumping right back into life after six weeks with my foot up.

Reality has been a bit different.

Part of the difference between expectation and reality came when I was staying with my sister Christy and realized that I wouldn't be able to go up and down the stairs the 3-4 times (beyond going to and returning from work) necessary to take care of Austen. Luckily Christy is wonderful and was willing to let me leave my boy until I could take care of him on my own.




Now I miss that little turkey. I come home and it's so quiet and lonely. I got used to having people around, so the loneliness is harder than usual, but no Austen?? Talk about adding injury to insult.


So here I am missing him, and he's in hog heaven at her house. She has a yard, a dog door, an almost unlimited supply of dog toys, and best of all Brie:



the proud owner of half of Austen's brain (which is only fair since he owns half of hers). So, while I'm looking forward to his return, I'm sure he's not.


Luckily he's wearing out his welcome at Christy's





(*Christy assures me that the look of shame was staged. You can't make this dog feel bad.)

If this is what he does with a yard and two dogs to play with, what's he going to do when he comes back home??

Oh my goodness, imagine the carnage.

Expectations so low you can step right over them...without crutches

I've been walking sans crutches or anything else since midway through the school day Friday. It's exciting and makes it much easier to do REALLY crazy exciting things like carry a stack of papers across the room. I'm really happy that I'm progressing, and it's exciting to realize that someday I will be able to walk normally again.

That being said, the reaction of my students and colleagues has been a little unexpected.

For instance: In 5th period I walked to the front of my classroom to write something on the board and one of my students exclaimed "You're walking without your crutches!" and then the class broke into applause. Seriously.

At lunch I walked into Mary's classroom where the English department eats together. One of my colleagues said, "You're walking without crutches! Good job!"

Don't get me wrong, I appreciate the encouragement, but it felt a little like the kind of praise you give a toddler after their first wobbly steps or big girl poopy in the potty.



But, hey! I guess I shouldn't complain. I usually have to do a LOT more to impress these people.

Count your many blessings, name them one by one...

I know it's been a long time since I've posted, but I didn't think anyone wanted to read a daily post that read something like this: "I woke up today, put on my walking cast, watched daytime tv and then took a nap. Oh, and my foot hurts."

I didn't want someone who just happened by my blog by chance to think he/she was reading the ramblings of an 80 crippled woman: "Today I tried to go shopping at Stater Brothers, but all of the darn sit and shops were taken, so I had to go sit in the car. Ooof, my back hurts!"

But now I've been back home and at work for a week and a half, so I thought I'd better post something before you all quit coming by.

The past two months have been frustrating and painful, and it's easy to focus on the negative aspects of breaking a bone and being unable to take care of myself.

Despite (or because of) all of that, this past Sunday as we sang "Count Your Many Blessings" for the closing hymn in Sacrament Meeting I found my eyes filling with tears as I really felt (perhaps for the first time) what the words of that hymn were saying.

So, here goes, a list (incomplete and in no particular order) of the blessings I've recieved because I broke my foot:

1. I'm learning that I don't need to do everything myself. I'm a single girl, and have been for 35 years. Those in the same boat know what I'm talking about. In order to survive you have to get self sufficient. That's not necessarily a bad thing, but it can make it hard to accept help and ask for the help you need. When you can't walk or carry anything for over a month you need help and you need to ask for it. It seems stupid to think of having people waiting on you as a bad thing, but trust me-- it's not as fun as you think. My lowest point was probably at Target with my mom when I went (in the sit n shop) to the snack bar to get myself a Diet Coke. I took a corner too sharply, almost took out a table, and sent Diet Coke and ice in every possible direction. My mother came up behind me and said, "So, how did that work for you? You don't need to do this yourself!" And she was right. My mom and later my sister Christy were more than happy to help me, I just needed to be willing to ask.

2. I've learned to be grateful for the things I HAVE rather than focusing on what I LACK. I'm sure I'm not the only one who's ever cried about the myriad ways in which my life is different than I'd planned. When I lost the ability to walk--something I'd never even considered to be a blessing--I realized all of the things I've been blessed with.

3. My mom and dad. My mom and dad took me and my puppy in and loved us even though we sent their lives into disorder. My parents gave up their bedroom (the only one on the main floor: I couldn't do stairs), their routine, and their peace and quiet (Austen's loud), not to mention that one dining room chair (Sorry! Austen feels really really bad about that...maybe).

4. My sister Christy. When Mom and Dad couldn't take care of me because of prior commitments she took me in, bringing me water and Diet Coke whenever I wanted, and keeping my puppy for me until I am able to take care of him myself. Christy has also called me every single day since my injury making me laugh at myself and helping me gain perspective on the situation. She also sent me silly packages and encouraged new talents (my harmonica playing is coming right along).

5. My friends Vicki and Mary at work. Because I had no time to plan and was put on painkillers immediately, there was no time for decent planning for my students. I knew I'd be out for 6 weeks and had NO idea how to proceed. Vicki found a generic lesson plan for teaching the novel 1984, made copies, helped my long term substitute, and kept my kids updated on my condition. She also called me often helping me laugh about the situation and letting me know what was happening in my classroom. She always ended our conversations by telling me, "Don't worry. Things are under control." I can NEVER repay her for everything she did. Mary, my wonderful department chair, entered grades for me, mailed me research papers, talked to the office and Principal for me, and made my adjustment back to school as smooth and easy as possible. I could NOT have made it without her.

5. My friends in general. I recieved many many phone calls, letters, emails, etc. from many of you. I love you. Thank you. I especially enjoyed Jill's question "When do we laugh at this? 'Cause I'm ready when you are." and her glee at the possibility of me drunk dialing while on Lortab. Sorry it didn't happen Jill, I was too busy forming a postulate to call.

6. I have a job that I love. I've often thought (usually at 5:30 when I'm up getting ready for work) that I'd like to not have to work. I'll never say that again. I never realized how much joy I get from being a productive member of society. I missed the daily interaction with my students and the other teachers I work with, and I found out how truly mind suckingly horrible daytime tv is.

7. I am not permanently disabled. Now that I've had a glimpse into what it's like to be handicapped I will never be the same. I now notice things I never would have before, like how difficult it is to do basic day to day things when you can't walk. I've also realized how much people in public places stare at you when you're not "normal". I've also learned how kind perfect strangers can be when you are in need.

8. I had a excellent and decisive doctor. I fell on a Wednesday, saw my doctor on the following Monday, and had surgery on Tuesday. I didn't realize how great this was until I started hearing horror stories. You see, when you are in a wheelchair/have crutches/wear a walking cast people come up to you and tell you their injury stories. I've heard nightmarish stories of doctors who dither around, make incorrect diagnoses, etc. I'm really blessed that we just got to business. I'm also blessed that my doctor (who replaced my father's knee last year) took my insurance. It was comforting to know that I had a well respected and competent surgeon cutting me open. It's also nice to know he's a BYU alum (GO COUGARS!)

9. I had the opportunity to spend a lot of time with five of my nieces and nephews. The first three weeks of my recuperation were spent at my mom and dad's and I got to spend a LOT of time with my three adorable nieces who live around the corner. Normally during the school year I see them on weekends for an hour here or there, but I got three almost solid weeks of conversations, cuddling, laughter, and fun. I got to do Bethany's hair for her dance concert and see her dance in a poodle skirt.




I got to go to church with them and have Cate and Gwen take turns "getting" to sit by Aunt Maury. At one point during Sacrament meeting Cate grabbed my arm and said, "You're MY Maury." Then she went and sat by her mom and said to her, "See that girl up there? She's my Maury." Gwen came home with my mom and dad (I had to go home early) so that she'd be the first to "see Aunt Maury". I already loved these girls, but those three weeks were a precious opportunity to soak up the little girlness that I know just won't last (just last week Carly and Rachel were my little girls and now they're practically adults).

When I went to Christy's I got to spend a lot of time with my nephew Curtis and my niece Alyssa. Alyssa was very concerned that my walking boot was really ugly, and thought that I should just hop on one foot instead of using the crutches all the time. Curtis instructed me in the way of the Bionicle, and played with my dog. Time spent with those two kids is never a waste.

10. I got to see my 100 year old grandmother.



Of all of my blessings, this is my favorite. I might almost go so far as to say that maybe, if there's a reason that I had to break my foot, it was this. Had I not fallen on that silly stair I wouldn't have been able to take the time off of work to drive all day to Northern Wyoming, and I would have missed out on one of the sweetest experiences of my life. Grandma doesn't recognize us any more and she slept for a lot of the time I got to spend with her, but just sitting on her bed holding her hand and feeling her spirit was a blessing of the highest order. She didn't know who I was, but the first time we went into her room she pointed at me and said, "This girl looks familiar." I told her "That's because I'm your granddaughter Maury Sue." She responded, "You're my Maury Sue?" "Yes." "Oh, I'm glad!" We'd repeat that conversation every day and I never tired of it. Once she asked me, "How do you know I'm your grandma?" I told her it was because she'd been my grandma my entire life. She responded, "I'm sure glad I'm your grandma. I love you."

Being the granddaughter of that tremendous lady is one of the greatest blessings of my life. She has taught me that no matter what I face in life, I can make it if I rely on the Lord. She has taught me the value of intelligence and education, and has shown me what true strength is.


And, because my broken foot made it possible for me to see her one more time, I can't regret that silly fall or a single second of pain, frustration, or inconvenience it caused.