I STILL suck at blogging (and now I can't walk)

I know I have a blog, I just don't bother with it for some reason.

A little over 2 weeks ago I was enjoying playing a nice game of ice hockey with the usual group at the Willowbrook Aerodrome. I hadn't played in several months but felt remarkably good on the ice. I wasn't overly tired after each shift, I was contributing to the game, I was playing my position, all in all, I was pretty happy with my level of play.

Then, in the 3rd period, it happened. My right skate stopped and I didn't. I felt my ankle pop and I collapsed to the ice. As I looked down at my skate, I could see that it was angled out and looked bad. So I popped it back into place, tried to get up and again, immediately fell to the ice again. After calling for a whistle to stop play (which had moved on down the ice without me), I was attended to very quickly. I knew it was bad and immediately asked someone to call 911. Everyone around me was very helpful and did whatever they could to make things easy for me: they got my bag and stuff from the locker room, got my sticks, etc. from the bench, and got me my Blackberry. The paid I was experiencing was the worst I had ever felt. It made me nauseous almost instantly.

As is fairly common for me in situations such as this, I remained pretty calm. I even had time to update Facebook and Twitter. But as I laid there on the ice, there was only one person I wanted to talk to: Kara. I wanted so badly to call her, I wanted her to be there with me and hold my hand. But I knew it wasn't possible.

The EMT's arrived, put me on the gurney and took me out to the ambulance. In hindsight, I barely remember being rolled out the front door of the rink. Instead of being taken to Methodist Hospital near the rink, I was taken to Cy Fair Hospital because there was no wait in their ER.

I was taken into the ER, still in full (and probably smelly) hockey equipment, including my right skate which I asked them not to remove so the skate would contain any swelling. As I already mentioned, the pain was unbelievable. We went through the arduous process of removing all of my hockey gear, answered all sorts of questions about medication, allergies, etc. and had xrays taken. The result: it wasn't good at all. Not only was I going to need surgery, they were going to do it that afternoon.

I was given morphine to help with the pain.........it didn't help at all. I think it only calmed me down a little. Apparently, I was quite coherent on the phone despite my morphine drip. I was able to call several people to make sure they knew what was going on and I even left a voicemail for Kara letting her know I was ok. I also sent her an email that afternoon. I don't really recall what I said in either the voicemail or the email, but seeing as how I was rather uninhibited at the time, I can only imagine what came out.

The surgeon looked about my age. He had recently transferred from the Level 1 trauma center in Tyler to Cy Fair hospital. All he does is joint repair so I knew I was in good hands. A few hours, 9 screws, a metal plate and 27 staples later, I was in my own room to recover.

I was finally released on Monday afternoon and my mom took me back to her house. I am so grateful for everything my mom did for me. I don't know what I would have done without her. Luckily, despite our similar personalities and my frustration with not being able to do much for myself, we didn't kill each other!

Now, 2 weeks later, I'm back at my own house. My cat rarely comes out of hiding because he's scared of my crutches. Over the last 2 weeks, I realize how fortunate I am to have the friends that I do. I've been chauffeured around, brought dinner, brought lunch and had a ton of other things done for me by people from all aspects of my life. People who know me well, know that I have a very hard time asking for help. I would rather struggle with something on my own. This has been a very humbling experience for me. And for some reason, I have been somewhat emotional since it has happened as well. The help I receive never ceases to amaze me. I'm always the one that likes to do things for other people and this has been an eye opening experience for me. I don't know what else to say about that other than "thank you" to everyone who has expressed concern, checked in on me, taken me to lunch just to get me out of the house......the list goes on and on.

I will have a cast on my leg for another month followed by a walking boot. I still have to keep my leg elevated as much as possible and I have to use crutches to keep any and all weight off of it. I can't imagine what it will be like to learn how to walk again. But if I can get through the last few weeks, I think I can get through that.

As strange as it sounds, I think getting hurt has been a good thing. I've had a lot of time to think. I realize that I need to ask for help, that I can't always do everything on my own. I've realized that I have amazing friends and family too. And I've come to realize that there are people in my life that I can't imagine living without.