Yesterday marked three weeks since I broke my arm. Several of you have left comments and promised prayers and I want to say THANK YOU and keep them coming. This by far has been one of the more challenging bone breaks of my life. Possibly even surpassing the The Great Ankle Break of '01 that required surgery and a (mis)diagnosis of pre-term labor.
A few days after this accident we ran into Lula's first grade teacher. She said: When I heard about you riding your bike with the kids to school I thought, wow! she's so adventurous that's a life well lived. Her remark added a spring to my step and a smile to my face.
It's remarkably different than the comments I get from my loving mother: What is WRONG with you? Who breaks as many bones as you? You need to have a bone density test!
I've broken 4 bones:
Wrist, age 11. 3-wheeler accident.
Ankle, age 31. Slipped on ice. Blamed on back-to-back pregnancies.
Wrist, age 32. Snowboarding.
Arm (between elbow and shoulder), age 37. Bike accident.
I am a bit nervous. Afraid that I can't snowboard, ice skate, kiteboard. Afraid that every time I fall, I will break something. And this break has been so stressful and taxing that it adds to my phobia.
But enough about fear, let's get to the bitching.
Someone commented that their husband had to hook/unhook their bra for them. Bahahahahahahahahahaha! In my house, in my relationship this just isn't going to happen. Nor can I expect my husband to button/unbutton my pants. So I wear tanks tops with built-in support and elastic pants I can pull on and off. I bathe (with my shirt on) about every three days and wash my hair in the sink on the same schedule.
The most helpful member of my family, the one who rolls their eyes the least is my sweet baby Lula, without her help I'd really smell to high heaven.