Monday, November 27, 2006

The foot bone’s connected to the whine bone

Random musings from broken foot land…

When I first hurt my foot I was pretty sure it was broken. First clue: the loud crack I heard as I fell. I’m lying on the ground looking up at the garage ceiling thinking “Huh. That didn’t sound so good.” So then I drag myself into the house and start crawling around trying to decide what to do. Gabriel, who can tell something is wrong (since his mom doesn’t crawl around on her hands and knees very often), offers to get me the preschoolers’ panacea – a bandaid. When I tell him “No thanks kiddo, I think it might be something a bandaid can’t fix.” He shrugs and says, “Well then can I ride on your back like a horsie?”

I have proven the adage that “even when all your kids are grown, you never get to retire from being a parent.” When I decided to go to the doctor and my husband was still stuck at work, who did I call? My Mommy and Daddy. They swooped in to rescue me. Dad drove and stayed with me for two hours at the InstaCare (a misnomer if ever there was one). My mom stayed at my house with the kids and disobeyed my strict instructions to not clean anything and did the dishes and swept the floor while I was gone. My parents are awesome.

The doctor looked no older than 16 and really did nothing to earn what I’m sure was a huge “day after Thanksgiving wish I were golfing but am stuck at an after-hours clinic” fee. All Doogie Howser did was squeeze my foot in various places and ask if it hurt. I take it back, he did have to apply that tricky Medical School Lesson #1674: yelp of pain = injured spot. The real diagnosis came from the x-ray lab technician, and the actual splinting of the foot was done by the medical assistant with the lowest degree. Heck, I could have saved them all that trouble and just gone with my mother’s verdict. When she first arrived, she took one look at the odd protrusion on the side of my foot and said “You broke your fifth metatarsal.” She knew this because she had broken the same bone many years before. But she was tripping up the steps from her garage not down them so don’t go suggesting “like mother like daughter.”

I had no idea my universe was so 5th-metatarsal-centric. Suddenly I feel completely helpless. I can hobble around on crutches but I can’t carry anything – not even my baby. So I have to boss my husband and kids around (even more than usual) and tell them to “fetch this” and “go get me that.” Ethan has requested an increase in his slave wages. I’m even calling in favors from neighbors since I can’t drive. I never realized my life was so precariously balanced on the pinpoint of my own agility. To mix metaphors, I was like an Imperial crewmember on the Death Star, oblivious to the fact that one well-placed torpedo could cause the whole shebang to self destruct.

I am getting tired of telling people that I broke my foot making bread. And they don’t believe me when I say “The Olympic speed skating trials didn’t go too well.” So I’m taking nominations for a new explanation. Any suggestions?

17 comments:

edj said...

umm....the staff of life splintered in my hand like a broken reed?

Heth said...

How about: It happened when the Death Star exploded. Love the Star Wars metaphor.

Aren't mothers awesome? Hey, at least you got some clean dishes and a swept floor out of the whole ordeal. I'm so sorry it's broken.

scribbit said...

Sorry to hear about the foot. I suppose you could say you did it skiing and we'd never know the difference.

Moobs said...

As slave wages should be $0 dollars and hour - offer him a 100% increase.

Julie said...

edj
Thanks, that's a lovely metaphorical one.

Heth,
I think I'll use that tonight when I stumble into class. They ought to like the Star Wars connection.

Michelle,
If only I did ski. But it's too darn cold!

Moobs
I should have thought of that. Do you think he'll go for that math?

allysha said...

I like that your son wanted to ride on your back. That parent thing you talked about? You know that according to your kids you're only as good as the the ride you can give...anyway, I'm sorry about your foot and I hope it heals soon.

Julie said...

Allysha,
Well it did make me laugh at the time (which was good therapy for a broken spirit if not for a broken bone). Thanks.

Anonymous said...

Must... resist... urge... to put "making bread" with "monster loaf"...

Julie said...

Jam
You are TERRIBLE. The thought never even crossed my mind, although it should have since that was your funniest post ever. What a way to break a foot that would be. :O

Annie said...

How about "I broke my foot. I can't say any more about it." That'll drive snoopy-curious-and deeply interested individuals crazy!! We human beings seem to think we MUST, MUST, MUST know all the details and especially if crutches are involved. Enjoy the disability. Really. I'm serious. You go and do and do for others all the time. Moms just don't get to sit-back-and-not-do very often. Really. Enjoy it. Knit. Read. Nap. Watch movies. You'll be SOoooo appreciated after this is all overwith!!

meno said...

I broke my foot falling up the stairs myself. I feel for you.
The good news: Crutches are a great upper body workout.
Be careful not to let yourself get derpressed as the six weeks wears on. This i know from experience. Hopefully you won't need to be on crutches for the whole time. i broke a different bone, so maybe you can walk around on the boot soon.

Julie said...

Annie,
Not a bad idea. Keep the snooper's wondering. As for enjoying the moment, I can see the advantage already of being forced to slow down. I've said "No" to things I normally would agree to do.

Meno
Thanks for commiserating. I'd better be able to walk soon or I really will get depressed. And I can tell I'm getting a good workout. Even my abs are sore. I could market my new exercise plan and make millions.

Bernita said...

How about "Ninja workouts aren't all they're cracked up to be."
And there's the old stand-by "You should have seen the other guy..."
Of course, you could slur your consonants when describing it as an "exotic" incident...and watch their eyebrows climb...

Ann Kroeker said...

Just discovered your blog and am enjoying your clever, creative writing. Fun stuff with great comic timing.

Your Star Wars reference made me wonder if you've seen the organic foods spoof "Store Wars" yet?

If not, I've offered the link on my blog at this post:

http://www.contemplativemom.com/blog/2006/11/store-wars.htm

Julie said...

Bernita
I knew I could count on you for something classy. And exotic.

Ann
Thanks and welcome. I'll have to stop by for the Store Wars link. There's no such thing as too many spoofs on the Star Wars theme

The Lazy Organizer said...

Funny how you just know when a bone is hanging losely from your body that it's broken. Or maybe that just happens with fingers. Not that I have ever broken any in a dangerous sewing machine accident.

You're the third internet person I know who has broken her foot lately. That is scaring me!

kevin smith said...
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