Broken Leg

I have a proud history of having made it through my entire childhood without breaking a bone.

I'm not sure what made me think now would be a good time to change that.

Friday evening of January 3, we were having a typical bedtime meltdown with Miriam getting dressed for bed.  I was getting frustrated and decided to go downstairs and get the girls' blankets and water cups so we could hurry bedtime along.  

If you've ever lived in a house with stairs, you might have slipped once or twice if you were going too fast and were too close to the edge of the step (as I was doing).  

I slipped on the traction-less carpet, but instead of sliding down neatly on my bottom, my right foot turned under and my leg hit the following steps as I slid down the stairs.  

Thankfully I didn't fall on my stomach, the baby was fine. 

My leg, however was not.

I heard the snap (not a good sound).

Stan heard me cry out and rushed down to help.

Thank goodness he was there.  He is amazingly calm in these tense situations.  He helped me move down to the floor, got a pillow for my head and leg and called our friends in the next neighborhood for help.  They were there within less than 5 minutes.

  I told Stan he was the boy scout and to do something.   So he quickly gathered up a yardstick (which he broke in half), some duct tape and cardboard and made a splint for my leg.  Then with the help of our friends, they got me in the van and Stan drove me to the ER.  I remember comparing the intensity of the pain to the intensity of labor pain.  Not fun.

 Jody and Cace had been staying with us that week while their stuff was being moved to their new home in Minnesota.  However, they had gone out to dinner with some of Cace's family that night, so our friends stayed at home with Miriam and Eliza until Jody and Cace returned.

 We checked into the ER around 8 p.m.  This is me being calm.

 This this the gimpy leg (broken just above the ankle).

They took x-rays (sorry it's blurry).

It wasn't good news. Not only was it broken, but BOTH leg bones (tibia and fibia) were broken/shattered (little pieces floating around).  This would require surgery.  Not the news we were hoping to hear.

They splinted my leg in the ER and moved me up to the OB floor to monitor the baby.  Surgery was scheduled for 9 a.m. the following morning.

There was lots of discussion between the orthopedic surgeon, the anesthesiologist and the OB doctor as to how they should sedate me (since I was 30 weeks pregnant).  They finally decided on a spinal tap (which is what they give you with a C-Section).  Much less risky than General Anesthesia.  I was terrified of being awake during the surgery, but the anesthesiologist assured me he we give me something to make me sleepy and he did not disappoint.  I woke a few times during the surgery, but only literally for like 3 seconds before he was giving me more stuff to make me go back to sleep.  I remember hearing some drilling and at one point all the doctors and nurses talking about sports, but that's about it.  It took about 2 hours and these are the results:

 A rod through the tibia with 4 screws.  If you look at the lower left picture, you can see the fracture across both bones.  

The baby did great.  He was constantly monitored during the surgery in case he went into distress and they had to take him out.  It was a little surreal when I had to sign consent forms before, and they're like "you could have a baby when you wake up."  I had received a Priesthood blessing in the ER and was told that the baby would come when the time was right.  Thankfully that time was not right now.

They wrapped and splinted my leg after surgery and told me to come back in two weeks.  They wanted to leave it sterile to let the incisions heal.

I had finally figured out how to get around and manage the splinted leg and then he took it off and put me in a walking boot (air cast).  

I feel like Robocop.

It's heavy, and bulky and I'm still trying to figure out the right pressure in the air cells.  The plus side is that I can take it off to shower.

Not a pretty sight.  It didn't feel good either.  My leg shook the whole time it was off and felt like jello.

And so we continue on.  This has been a difficult experience (and is definitely not over yet).  I was told not to put weight on the leg for 6 weeks (we're 2 weeks into that).  After that, I'm not sure how long it will take before I'll be fully walking normal again.  The baby's due date is in 8 weeks.  This is going to be interesting, to say the least.  I am walking with a walker because they thought I would be too unbalanced for crutches, being big pregnant (which I can't really argue with).

So I can get myself around the house and to the bathroom, but I can't do any of the household duties that I am so use to doing (or go upstairs).  I can't drive.  I'm a couch potato.  I have to have my leg up the majority of the time to reduce swelling and am on blood thinners to reduce chances of a blood clot.  Stan has been carrying the load of parent, housekeeper and income provider the past few weeks.  Thankfully his work has been flexible and let him work from home the past few weeks, but he is going to have to go in some starting next week.  

I really don't like feeling so utterly useless.  I am literally the 3rd child now that needs my meals prepared and brought to me and needs help getting showered.  This has been very humbling for me.  On the other hand, we have been the recipient of so much wonderful service from family and friends.  From meals to childcare, we have been supported by the hands of others.  We are so thankful.

And so I am trying to take it one day at a time.  I am constantly praying that I can keep my spirits up and stay positive (being a couch potato really is only nice for about a day), and that Stan will be strengthened to carry the extra load.  

Miriam and Eliza seem to be handling it well and as Eliza has learned, "I no touch your leg."

When I was in the hospital, I posted on Facebook my attempt at a positive outlook on this rather dreary situation:

"Here's looking on the bright side of things when you slip down the stairs and shatter your right leg while 30 weeks pregnant:
1-so grateful Stan was home and such a good helper.
2-baby is doing fine and still cooking in the oven, even after surgery on mom.
3-my sister was already staying overnight at our house so the girls had someone to stay with them.
4-I am reminded of the many wonderful family and friends in my life. I am blessed with an incredible support system.
5-new year, new deductible. Baby's delivery will be paid for by the time he comes out.
6-nausea isn't so bad when the hospital food is still so gross. Who'd want to eat it anyway?
7-at least the holidays are over. This would make for a stinky Christmas.
8-I am so grateful for modern medicine, especially the pain relieving kind."