I cried yesterday for the first time since I felt the snap of my anklebones. I ugly cry-blubbered louder and harder than I did in the ER waiting room when they took in the third person that came in after me leaving me and my ever-swelling ankle dangling off the edge of the wheelchair. I cried and I cried and I cried because I have a broken leg and I can’t do anything quickly or easily or right. It wasn’t pretty. But nothing about these last 5 weeks have been pretty.
It started with the dog food. I’ve sort of gotten a routine going with the feeding of the dogs using the scooter; food and a little water into the bowls, dogs in the crate waiting, bowls down on each dog ‘table’ and then scoot myself out of the way as they charge. But yesterday, I got cocky. I let the dogs outside and filled the dishes while they were outside. I got Joe and Pepper’s food down without an issue but as I was scooting toward Tigger’s ‘table’, the scooter wheel caught the rug and the water saturated food spilled out of the dish and, in agonizing slow motion, scattered all over the white carpet in the dinning room. I stood there on one leg; right knee balanced on the scooter, bowl dangling from my hand just flummoxed, no clue what to do next. I could get down off my wheeled leg and scoop the food up but the odds of my getting back up without using Broken Ankle to raise myself were not good. I could put more food in Tigger’s bowl and let them all fight over the food on the floor or I could scoot my cussing self over to the door with the other dogs bowls, let Tigger eat her food off the floor and feed Joe and Pepper outside. I went with that last choice, having not thought through the major issue – getting a 70lb dog to go where I tell her to when food is involved. The three dogs were at the front door, waiting. I tried to open the door and have Tigger come in but Joe wiggled his body around the door, squeezed by her and into the house followed by Pepper. With my knee precariously balanced, I bent down and tried to feed them before letting Tigger in to eat in the other room. Tigger did not understand my plan. Pushing past the slightly open door, she slammed into my leg as she leapt over the scooter to get to Joe’s food. Joe, not being the smartest of dogs, stepped back and let Tigger have her way with his food. Pepper ignored the commotion and kept eating. “DAMNIT!” I yelled and tried to pull Tigger off the food, ripping a nail. Frustrated with the non-budging growling dog, I changed plans and tried taking Joe to the dining room for a breakfast buffet off the floor. But Joe, who will eat anything, and I mean absolutely ANYTHING, totally refused to eat his breakfast off the floor. At this point I snapped. Five weeks of no control over what I can do and when I can do it and I just lost it. At the top of my rather considerable lungs I cussed. “FUCKING DOGS!” I screamed. “FUCK!!! I HATE THIS FUCKING LEG!!!” And promptly burst into a thoroughly ugly cry. My, um… minor fit woke Husband, who came in to see what all the fuss was about, took one look at me sniveling and set about fixing things. While Husband put a full Tigger into her crate and coxed Joe to eat every piece of dog food off the once white carpet, I sat on the scooter stool, stupid green cast hovering off the carpet per doctor’s orders to not let it “bear weight” blubbering. It was not my proudest moment. Nope, I was so pitiful; Husband took me out to breakfast AND then for a jaunt on the not-so-zippy scooters at Target. It doesn’t take much to put a smile on my face these days. Better yet, Husband was good enough to not mention my morning temper tantrum. The embarrassment was fading and actually liked the dogs again. Then, last night as I was getting ready for bed, Husband asked me what ringtone he should set his morning alarm with; “FUCKING DOGS!” or “FUCK! I HATE THIS FUCKING LEG!!!” 49 days since break. 13 days till cast off (I hope) and dignity is restored.
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AuthorMy name is ej. I'm a girl. I say that because with the short hair and the short initials, folks aren't always sure. More brilliant insights to who I am in About me Archives
April 2019
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