All right... I'm out of ideas. lol
So let's go back to November first when I mentioned something about more than my ankle being broken, but didn't explain it because I wanted to save that story for a whole new post. This is that whole new post. Right here. Right now.
I went to the doctor for a physical this spring. I hate physicals, but I got this reminder in the mail that I was overdue for a pap test, so I booked it. I had originally been putting it off because I started running, and I had this idea that I would knock my doctor's socks off with my weight loss and healthy new bod. (I'm halfway to being in love with my doctor.) And then I broke my ankle, so I put it off even longer, and then I got the reminder thingy in the mail. So I booked it, even though the weight loss and my healthy new bod were a thing of the past.
Anyways, (I get sidetracked SO easily hey?) during the appointment Dr. Fourie was checking out my ankle and then pushed on my leg up near my knee and asked it it was tender there. And I was very surprised when my answer was yes. "Why would it hurt THERE?" I asked.
Because it was broken.
If you look at the xray, it seems quite obvious, and I remember wondering at the time why that little bone looked like it was broken too, but since I don't have a medical degree and don't know what I'm looking at or talking about, I just assumed someone who did know what they were talking about WOULD HAVE MENTIONED IT.
I know I was in a fair bit of pain during/after my first x-ray, but I am almost POSITIVE no one told me my leg was broken too. Or while they were setting it. And I'm totally postitive no one mentioned it during any appointments or my hospital stay. I would have remembered that. Because it HURT and I didn't know why. And it bruised way up by my knee, which seemed weird. I figured it was some kind of muscle damage from all the twisting. Sigh.
That whole week was such a fiasco. I went back to find the xray and read some of my posts from that week and a few posts from the weeks after. I'd almost forgotten how awful it was. And how it felt that my mom wouldn't come the day I broke my ankle and we had to leave our kids with friends here. And how one of them had to watch Hannah the next day while Glen took me to Regina for surgery, even though she had worked a night shift the night before. We assured her my mom would be there by lunch FOR SURE because Mom promised she'd leave first thing in the morning. We assured her my mom would get there as soon as she could so that my friend could sleep.
She didn't though. She arrived sometime around four. My poor friend was exhausted by then. I felt terrible. But Mom promised she'd stay the week and for the weekend because Glen needed to get his midterm marks in and needed to be at school the whole weekend to do it and couldn't take care of me. She knew I would need to be taken care of as much as the kids would. I could barely go to the bathroom on my own, much less make it down the stairs to cook meals and change Hannah's diaper and put the kid's to bed and... So Mom would stay.
She didn't though. I actually hadn't even made it into the house when she left on Friday. We pulled up in the driveway and Glen was trying to figure out how to get me up the stairs when she and Dave (Oh, did I mention Dave came? I'll tell you about THAT later...) took off. They had the car loaded up ahead of time and left the minute we got home.
I don't remember who came to help that weekend... I just remember crying a lot. Go back and read some of those posts if you feel like reading through a lot of misery. I was completely helpless, in pain, and needed my mom more than I ever had. EVER. And she ditched me.
Wanna know why? I sure did. It didn't make sense to me that she had to go home because this man she'd met only a few weeks earlier was expecting a new grandchild. What did that have to do with her?
I didn't find out till sometime in February, during a very intense confrontation between us that involved a LOT of yelling, that she was mad at me because of an argument we had had the week before I broke my ankle, and because of some things I had said to my brother in confidence which he had repeated back to her. She "couldn't believe I had the nerve" to ask her to come and help me when we had been fighting the week before. Of course. How silly of me to think that both of us apologizing to eachother and talking it out meant that everything was okay. And even if everything wasn't as okay as she said it was how silly of me to think family should still be family no matter what. I don't think that anymore. Not about her.
See what I mean about getting sidetracked?