The Little Things… Part One.

So if you read my last Blog, you know that I am not good at being broken. If you didn’t read my last blog, the short version is that I broke my femur on the second day of my Whistler vacation and I am not too happy about it. Anyway, that was 6 weeks ago and I have had a hard time seeing the bright side, I am grouchy, and it takes very little to push me to anger and frustration. Lately I have taken to throwing crutches and other blameless objects – not at anyone, yet. Needless to say, my friends have shown their concern and have done their best to cheer me up and change my attitude. More than one friend has advised me to focus on the little things, the small triumphs, the micro gains. So this blog is mostly for me. I am going to list all the Little things that have occurred since my accident in the hopes that by the end I might feel better. Some of the things are funny, some are sad, and some you may consider gross, but they are all real and I make no apologies.

Little Thing One: My first full day in the hospital in Vancouver hurt a lot less than the day before. Morphine. And that’s all I have to say about that.
Little Thing Two: A transfusion is a wonderful thing when your red blood cell count is so low you can’t sit up. “No doc, I didn’t feel dizzy til you said I should. Thanks.”
Little Thing Three: Happiness is the catheter leaving the urethra.
LittleThing Four: Dismay is knowing the bed pan is full and you are not done peeing.
Little Thing Five: Shame is feeling like an old lady when they hand you a walker.
Little Thing Six: Pride is feeling like a Big Girl when they hand you crutches the next day.
Little Thing Seven: Satisfaction is getting to the toilet on your own for the first time.
Little Thing Eight: Horror is getting to the toilet and realizing you haven’t shit for 5 days.
Little Thing Nine: Relief. So, I have never been constipated before. Never. I thought I was going to push my eyeballs out of my skull, but instead, after about 20 minutes, I crowned a boxing glove with an anvil inside. Closest I ever want to get to giving birth. Is it wrong to be proud of a dookie?
Little Thing Ten: Made it up the stairs with my crutches, which turns out to be the magic ticket.
Little Thing Eleven: I got to go home.

To Be Continued…

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