Nat the Broken
Warning: typos ahead. Turns out it’s hard to type (or do fucking anything) with one arm.
Sean gave me a new nickname this week: Nat the Broken. (Like Bran the Broken from GoT. Jokes are funnier when you have to explain them.)
I couldn’t sleep Monday night so I started wondering what I should blog about this week. Sean’s upcoming birthday? How overwhelming our return to “normal” post covid is starting to feel? Another ode to Kane? I decided to do 29 things I love about Sean in honor of his 29th on Monday. (Sean said it would get tough after #12.)
But the next morning, I got some new content.
Tuesday morning’s workout is possibly the last one I would have expected to bring injury upon me. It was perhaps the most tame one we’ve had so far.
About 90 seconds in I landed awkwardly on my ankle and took a tumble. I reached down to break my fall and heard a loud pop. My watch cut my hand from the impact, and then the swelling started.
I think my adrenaline kicked in bc it didn’t immediately hurt. I could definitely tell something was wrong but didn’t realize the extent. I told Sean I was going to take a breather, and the workout continued for everyone else.
And then the pain kicked in.
The trainer saw me walking with my wrist awkwardly and came to check on me. He got me some ice and Advil and asked a few questions.
Amazing how well you can keep it together when a gym full of people are staring at you. The minute we walked out of the gym I burst into tears and asked Sean to take me straight to the hospital. I don’t think I’ve ever experienced so much pain, but ask me again after I give birth.
No one was at the ER so we got in quickly. During our short wait, a pregnant lady and her partner walked in and he said she was there to get her tonsils out. I was like “oh, that’s not what I was expecting,” and Sean was like, “…he’s joking.” I was definitely all consumed by my pain.
Everyone was really nice and the whole process was pretty fast. They told me I did a good job getting a clean break and wouldn’t need surgery. Claps for me.
Side note - look how pretty my rings look on this X-ray. I couldn’t get them off bc my fingers were too swollen.
Also look at this pic Sean tried to take of me in front of the emergency room sign. He really nailed it, didn’t he?
This is how you look when you’re both completely exhausted and have been crying and nose-running into a mask all morning.
With all the wrist pain I forgot about my ankle, which turned out to be super swollen when I got home. It has gotten better with ice, elevation and rest though.
Sean has been an excellent caretaker and has gotten very...ok...at ponytails. My mom has been super helpful and attentive. Sean’s parents brought over some awesome one-handed shower stuff. Kane has made it his mission to chew me free of my splint prison. Overall I’m super lucky to be surround by such amazing people and canines.
Sean is still convinced this was a clever ruse to get out of white water rafting next weekend.
Soooo I wrote all of that before my appointment at coastal this afternoon. Just found out I do in fact need surgery. No Georgia trip for me. Some good news: they also took an X-ray of my ankle, and it is not broken. Just sprained.
Because my surgery is in less than a week, I have to stop taking pain meds now. Naturally, Sean is on his way to pick up some alcohol for me.
