Yesterday morning, as I was bringing Toddler-tron downstairs around 5 AM and half-dreaming of sugar plums (in the form of a hot shower and a steaming cup of joe and a few minutes online), I missed a step. In our old farmhouse, missing one step is like missing two in these new houses. Thankfully, I was halfway down. Thankfully, TT is unharmed. I, however, did not escape unscathed. A trip to the ER and a few X-rays later revealed a hairline fracture in my left ulna. Thankfully, I’m right-handed. Thankfully, friends and family are showering me with TT help and meals.
And to think, all I wanted for my birthday was a day with Hubby.
I have fallen down those exact steps a time or two, luckily w/o anyone but myself to harm.
You are a good mommy. You are wearing the cast (or maybe a funny looking glove) and not your daughter. That is what mommy’s do…they protect their children.
Hope your healing time is fast, enjoy the extra help!
Thank God it’s not worse! Get well quickly! (Or milk it, as you wish…) 🙂
I used to live in a house with steps like that, and my roommate, the homeowner, hadn’t put the railing back up after moving. So one Saturday as I came down in my thick wool socks on bare wooden steps, I missed the step…landed on the edge of a step jabbing just to the left and above my tailbone, my elbow struck another step, and I slid down. My roommate came out of the bathroom in time to see me go into the kitchen, lean over the counter, and then lie down on the floor…it was getting very DARK very suddenly.
But a little neurogenic shock never hurt anyone, right?
My lips were blue…I remember being fascinated by that fact. My roommate was talking to me, and I remember seeing her lips move and I could hear her voice, but there was no understanding of her words.
When I could speak, we went to Urgent Care, I had no insurance, and because of that, the doctor opted for no X-rays, but told me not to go runing for a few days. (I had finally done 6 miles the prior day).
But I spent $80.00 to learn that I had a bruise. HE gave me sample painkillers.
I think you got the better story…after all, YOU have an injury to show for it!
I once knew a fellow who was born without an ulna on his left arm. He couldn’t do “jazz hands” with his left hand and he couldn’t touch his hand to his shoulder.
Otherwise, nothing was different.
Pray to St. Stanislas Kostka, the patron saint of broken bones.
And take some calcium.