The days following were all too similar.
Bored icing on the couch, all day everyday….until Thursday.
Hello…Thanksgiving! Whitney washed my hair in the sink-that was a highlight. It felt like I was at hair salon.
I was fortunate enough to be invited to the Waugh’s family dinner. Claire and Whitney came with as well. It was a wonderful afternoon/night filled with laughter.
Later that night I started feeling really dehydrated and knew I needed to get some water. I wanted to go get some Gatorade. I had some in my fridge in the garage. I put on my brace and grabbed my crutches. Off I went…
I got to the kitchen and was pretty light headed so I sat down in a chair. I caught my breath. Then got moving again. I made it back to the garage door. The Gatorade was just sitting on top of the fridge, all I had to do was open the door and grab it. Didn’t have to go down the steps or anything, easy enough. Then, I started feeling very weak. I had a rush to my head. I took a deep breath. I told myself I could do it-just had to open the door and grab it. I fell into the wall a little, feeling dizzy. I knew I needed the Gatorade. Everyone was asleep. I gave myself an epic pump up speech in my head, opened the door, grabbed the Gatorade, switched it into my other hand, reached and pulled the knob towards me. This door was always hard to close. I hadn’t closed it all the way-it needed one last big tug. Heart beating fast, I was exhausted. And then, I started feeling like I was falling. Like my arms could no longer hold me up. I felt myself starting to fall.
Then, I was falling. I was watching it happen but I couldn’t stop it. I’m falling into the garage door, the one that wasn’t closed yet. The one my right hand was grasped on. My crutches head to the left of me in the opposite direction. I hear them hit the wall, then the floor as my body spins until my back meets the concrete, along with my head. I open my eyes and feel my head throb, then my back, and my knee. I lift my head up, its heavy, I look at my legs. I stare at my feet still atop the two steps. I hurt everywhere. I yelled for Claire. She yelled up “What?” In that moment, I felt complete defeat. I was fighting back tears. I replied… “Helllllp me.” She came running up the stairs. She said I looked very white and got me the Gatorade that had rolled into the kitchen. It felt personal. Completely denied of the Gatorade.
I sipped it and lay there for a little bit. Then once I felt better, I got back up. Got my crutches back under me and headed to bed. I was able to laugh about it and fight off the tears.
The next morning I woke up and my body just ached. Everything ached. I had already been accumulating new body pains from sleeping on the couch, crutching around, and my surgery. So taking an already mangled body and tossing it onto the concrete in an already weak state was a big kick in the pants. Probably something like this:
I stayed in bed the entire day aside from about two hours when I watched a movie in the living room-big day I know. I didn’t feel strong enough to get out and I honestly was probably scared. Scared to fall again.
I went to bed hoping tomorrow would be a better day.