Bitch Slapped by 2024

 

We have been remiss in writing the new blog post and for that, we apologize. The issue wasn't that we had nothing to write about. Oh, on the contrary! Life has changed for Terry and I. We are separated, so to speak, for the time being. Not because of any argument or irreconcilable differences either, but rather 2024 has bitch slapped us. 

This slap has left a scar, not only across our life, but it has been forever etched into our souls. I know my heart has been scarred deeply. There is no return, no backing out of what we have experienced over the past couple of weeks. We are both wrecked, damaged, and irreparably hurt. However deep the pain and memory resides, we can and will still push out the bad and return to the good. As always, our blessings do remain. 

As sweet man has written in the last post, our beautiful Bella kitty was ill. We knew she wasn't quite right. Her eyes were not as bright as usual. She was lethargic and uncaring for a few days. Bella had been losing weight over the past few months, but we attributed that to her newfound space to run. Our baby was playing a lot more, chasing toys through the home, and being a younger acting cat again. Suddenly, she was lying on the back of the couch, her gaze focused on the wall. When she slept, her head drooped downward, her nose pressed into the couch surface. 

Terry called for an appointment at the local vet. We were thinking it may be a UTI (urinary tract infection) or possibly a virus. Of course, you never want your mind to go to the worst place possible, but the thought was creeping into the recesses of mine. I'm sure Terry had the same awful imagery going through his brain as well, but it was something we didn't want to speak of.  

The 10th was the day for the predetermined vet visit. Mallory came over to help me gather our beautiful girl and to run her into the vet for the checkup. I was to drop Bella off to be seen when they could fit her in, picking her up later once Terry was off work. As Mallory and I were heading out the door, our husky, Togo began his potty dance. I informed Terry's youngest child I would be walking my fur baby before leaving. That's when the next leg of our journey began. 

I ran Togo up the alleyway path. More rain had fallen that morning, leaving the alley and our yard wet, muddy, and unpleasant. Of course, Togo loves that type of weather due to the coolness of the temperature. He pranced along the sparsely graveled road. Lifting his leg on most every blade of grass along the way, he finally took aim at the grass on the other side of the path. I do believe all grass was coated with his scent, leaving plenty behind for the next canine traveler. 

I led him down the alley, toward our driveway. The driveway declines a bit into our concrete patio on the side of the home. As I led him into the yard, my foot hit a patch of mud between the patches of gravel and grass and down I went. 

Rolling to my left side, I could feel a weirdness in my right ankle. I knew at the second of the fall something was not right. My leg was feeling odd, my foot lay to the side of my leg. As I made an attempt to put my foot into the proper position, it felt as though it was flopping, unattached to my leg. 

Hearing Mallory's voice in the background made me want to get up even more, push myself into an upright position, although my ankle was shot. I knew immediately something was so very wrong. 

I heard Mallory pleading for my safety, begging me to let her help. There was nothing she could do. She is of a small build and I knew she was unable to lift me. I flipped over on my stomach to begin the long army crawl toward my house. I was cold wet, and covered in mud. 

Crawling onto the five steps to get to my door was difficult, but I made my way. After flopping onto the floor in the house, I could feel a wave of fear flowing through me. I had messed that leg up badly. Mallory was upset knowing she was truly unable to help lift me. She was in shock, as I was. I was shivering so much that she ran to get me a shirt. My stepdaughter grabbed my dripping wet shirt and pulled a warm, dry replacement over my head. 

I begged Mallory to call my daughters, her father, and 911. She was on it immediately. My ankle began to swell. It was about three times the size and Mallory asked if she should remove my shoe. Being in shock myself, I said, "No," fearing the pain I would be in if she did. That and I could not stand the thought of looking at it. Garnering enough courage to take a quick peek, I saw how swollen the ankle had become. Puffiness surrounded not only my ankle, but the leg as well. The entire foot was not sitting correctly, as it sat cockeyed on the end of my leg. I freaked. 

Ripping at the shoestrings, I pushed my shoe away from my foot and laid my head back down. Staring at the damage I had done was not a good thing to do, as it was grossing me out. In my shock, I could hear Mallory speaking with her dad, the emergency team, and eventually my daughter. Marina received the call and then she passed the message on down the line. 

Within a few moments, the EMT's entered our house and immediately began the process of asking question after question. A temporary splint was applied to the leg and foot and off we went, down those slippery stairs and across that horrible muddy lawn. Two EMT's reported they had slipped as well. For the first time ever in my life, I had broken some part of my body and had my first ambulance ride. 

Upon arrival, I was immediately rushed into a room where nurses and a doctor came to see what had occurred. I heard a couple members of the team say, "It's wonky," and from that my heart sank. Fear welled up inside of me and drained out of my body through tears. I knew it was not good. 

Lying in the hospital bed, I began to see Terry and Mallory come and go from my room and then back again to the waiting room. Only one visitor at a time seemed to be the rule. Eventually Marina, my granddaughter Madison and eventually Dawn and Kylee appeared. One by one they came in, sharing sentiments of healing and love. All had a look of fear on their faces when looking down on the ankle. Even though they were grossed out as I was, they all held my hand, hugged me and kept smiling. I do love my family. 

Terry took Bella into the veterinarian and then came home to grab Mallory. They followed the ambulance on the ride to the hospital and joined everyone in the waiting room. Each took turns to come back and see me before we had any sort of confirmation on what was happening with my ankle. A wave of comfort came over me seeing all of their faces, hearing their words of encouragement and their silly jokes made me smile. I love them all so much and felt that was the best medicine I could have received at that point. 

All of them sat by me until I saw the doctor appear. The vision of family faded quickly as my body went into complete trauma mode once more. I was informed I had not only fractured my leg, but the ankle was completely dislocated and needed to be put back into place. Repairing the ankle needed to be done quickly. Never in my mind would I have believed a simple fall could have done such damage. My care team in the ER stated they couldn't believe it was not only dislocated, but also fractured from my slip in the driveway either. But it was what it was and needed to be taken care of. 

Plans of knocking me out and putting it back into place went into rush mode. Everyone was scrambling to get equipment and prepare for the moment. I lay there terrified and in shock. Having never broken anything really left me wondering what was about to happen and how it would feel. My doctor suddenly appeared once more and claimed they were ready. Family disappeared into the waiting room after their hugs and goodbyes. My husband was going to remain for the procedure, but was set back into the corner of the room to fit the team inside the area. Just as they were giving me anesthesia, the vet's office called. Bella had to be picked up before the office closed, which was coming upon us soon. And so it begins ...

Anesthesia was administered. I heard Terry whisper to me that the vet was calling. He walked out of the room just as I fell asleep. When I rejoined reality again, the doctor was holding my foot, adding a bit of pressure. I asked what was happening and he claimed he was making sure it was secure and in the proper place. He had performed the necessary duties to pull my foot out of the awkward position it was in and pushed it back into the socket. There were, however, other complications that didn't arise until later. 

Sweet man and Mallory made sure I was home safe and sound after the procedure. I had a partial cast with a bandage covering the entire ankle, foot and ran all the way up to the knee. Now for the healing process to begin. Hiking those five cement steps was quite the chore, so we chose the front door where there were three steps total and a wooden deck. As I made an attempt to use crutches, I found my wrist couldn't take the pressure. I had damaged it as well. 

The problem with this week was not only what had happened with injuries, but our sweet Bella girl was passing. Her body was shutting down. We were able to love her, hug her, and tell her goodbye before she crossed over to the other side while in Terry's arms. This loss also caused a lot of pain and sorrow during this time. It was far too much. Soul crushing grief on top of everything else was not welcome but had come anyway. It became part of our path and we knew it was there to stay for a while. Terry was feeling such guilt and horror that his furry friend was struggling and he was also trying to deal with the accident and all that was happening around that. I recommended that he hold her, help her cross over, and then we will worry about all of this. I was, at that time, at least stable. She needed her best friend to help her pass properly, lovingly. That was important to us both. 

X-rays showed the wrist was not broken and the arm was actually okay, but the pain was quite obvious in both wrist and outer arm area. 

For the next week, I thought I was under healing time. My next appointment was to see the orthopedic surgeon to see if anything else needed to be done. Terry and I waited for him to come in but after he did, I wished he would leave again. I was not ready to hear what he was about to say. 

Dr. K from Umpqua Orthopedics was very sweet, kind, and concerned. I really liked him. He made me feel comfortable until the words flowed out of his mouth that would change everything. All the healing for the past seven days, down the toilet. All the riding around on a knee scooter, gone. Being with my husband and fur babies? Gone. Tears streamed once more, helping me release some fear, some anxiety, and all the anger I had toward 2024. It had sucked so far!

Our beautiful Bella passed away from old age during the week I was at home healing. Terry and I were gut punched. Our souls were crushed. Anyone who loves animals and feels they are family members knows that feeling of devastation, loss, and pure grief. 

On top of that, the doctor shared more horrible news with us. I would have to have surgery to repair what was three fractures, a dislocated ankle, and the plate under the leg and ankle bone was "wonky" as the nurses so delicately described it. All from a slow, simple fall while walking my fur baby. While hearing those words, the tears flowed like a river. All of the anger, pain, fear, depression, and grief came out at once, rushing down my cheeks and onto my chest. 

Sweet man squeezed my hand harder, all the while I knew he was not into any of this either. He was still in shock of losing Bella, his beloved girl of 11 years. We were both broken and unsure of which direction this was taking us along our path. I felt blessed to have such an awesome doctor, great healthcare team, and an amazing family surrounding me at this point. Otherwise, I would have been completely devastated. But I was also quite aware that my husband, my strong man was severely deep in depression. I knew he was walking on autopilot and his brain was incapable of accepting much else at this point. 

Dr. K knew I had to have the surgery quickly. I was to come into the hospital the following morning to begin. They would fit me in during the day, probably in the afternoon hours. The following morning, off we went, to Mercy Hospital in Roseburg. My family arrived, including all four of my daughters and my husband. We settled in to the tiny room for prep. 

The plan was to ensure the ankle was in place and to see just how the fractures were doing. I was out cold after a couple of hours of visiting with everyone and being wheeled off to surgery. Upon waking, my foot and leg were casted once more and it all looked as it did before I went in. Twelve screws and a metal plate later, it seemed my ankle, leg, and the entire area had been secured. Now comes the healing once again. 

After the initial resetting of the ankle I was allowed to go home. Upon follow up, I found out I had multiple fractures, not just one, and the entire ankle system was off set. 

I spent a couple of nights in the hospital after surgery due to the stairs and tight fitting spaces in my home. We were told I would be sent to a rehab facility because of the unsafe areas and the steps at my house. Our bathroom lies between our bedroom and an office, which is fine, but in the situation, it is far too tight of a space. The scooter was barely fitting. I'm now in a cast, wheelchair, and using a walker with absolutely no ability to put any weight at all on my right leg. I was told I cannot even put it on the floor for a bit of balance. Yeah, it's been real fun. 😠😟😦😧

My family came from Eugene, Springfield, and Lowell, along with Mallory and Terry. They brought flowers and left wonderful messages around the room to let me know they were there, I was okay, and they loved me. Biggest blessing in my life is, like I said, my sweet man and our beautiful, caring family.

The girls heard about the rehab center after spending three nights in the hospital. Marina wouldn't have it. She spoke with the nurses and care team to see if it might be possible that I travel to Lowell to be cared for there, at Wolf Tree Ranch, by her and her husband. We discussed it as a family and the plans were set to be transferred to Lowell via ambulance to arrive in Marina and John's home. They have wide doors and open spaces to create a suitable environment for a wheelchair and walker. But it also meant heartbreak. I would be away from Terry and my fur babies. Such a bittersweet moment. 

I knew the plan would work best due to my home making maneuvering in a wheelchair to the bathroom impossible or close to it. But I also knew I wanted my babies and my husband near me. It was a difficult decision when all was considered, but we understood how lonely a rehab facility would be for me. Staring at the walls was not something I was looking forward to. 

After three days in the hospital, ambulance services picked me up, tied down the wheelchair in the back, and off we went to Lowell. Wolf Tree Ranch it would be for a few weeks, at least until some healing takes place. Nurses, physical therapists, and occupational therapists were lined up to come to the home to work with me, to help me regain strength and teach me how to maneuver on a walker and in the wheelchair. 

Well played, 2024. Well played. Although you have struck us down, we are warriors. Our hearts and souls remain strong. We are up and fighting back. Our precious baby is still by our side but in a different form now. She is leading the charge into the rest of this year. We will survive. We are stronger now. In life. In our relationship. We have gained the trust that together we can keep going, keep fighting, and continue to succeed in this walk along our life path. 

Hold my walker. We've got this ...