AuburnChick's Adventures

It’s been rather quiet on the blog since I posted last Friday, but y’all, that doesn’t mean I haven’t been busy, because I totally have been.

We’ve had a lot of company in these here parts, so things have been hectic!

 

There was this thing called a wedding that happened last weekend.

I’ll blog about it soon.

There was work, which had to continue despite lack of interest on the part of students and teachers.  I had an all-day meeting on Tuesday, which I actually enjoyed.  Shhh.  Don’t tell anyone.

And then there was a pretty big event for me…

A visit to my surgeon’s office to see about a thing called a cast.

My appointment was set for Wednesday morning, bright and early…the ONLY time I could secure back when they put my cast on.  I’d eagerly snatched it up and requested sick leave.  Because my doctor is two hours away, Chicky, who’s home for Christmas, drove me over the afternoon before.

My grandpup is staying at Chicky’s grandparents’ house during the holidays so she doesn’t have to be boarded.  She was thrilled to see me!  It was all Chicky could do to hold her back so she wouldn’t jump on my leg.  She finally settled down though.

We spent the evening watching television.

For me, it was like Christmas Eve; the anticipation kept me awake on and off all night.

The dog got up when she saw I was awake each time and gave me a few snuggles.

Finally, it was late enough in the morning that I could say it was time to get up.

Y’all, I loathed the cast.  From the moment it was put on, I had been counting down the days until it was off again.

Being unable to see my leg and ankle just was not fun.

I dressed up to match my excitement.

After Chicky ran by Starbucks to grab herself a cup of coffee, we headed over to the orthopedic center.  I was called back exactly at my appointment time…props to the office staff!

I went straight to the cast room.  It was hopping; several people were waiting to get their casts off or, in the case of one young girl, get one put on.

I sat nervously.

What an interesting process.  There’s something that looks like an electric saw with some other sort of electric piece that runs it.

The guy who took off my cast was the same one who put on the splint during my first visit to the surgeon…the splint that I wore the week before my surgery.  He was very kind and knowledgeable about his job (thank heavens!).

First, he cut down both sides of my cast.  All I felt was a lot of vibration…

Up one side and down another.

Then he used a tool to pry open the cast on each side.  After that, he began cutting away the sock down at my toes.

Then, he pried open the entire cast and took off the top layer.

I held my breath as he did this; the instant relief brought tears to my eyes.

Oh heck.  What am I saying?  I was a hot mess the entire morning.  Emotional is my middle name.

With the hard cast off, all that was left to do was cut away the gauze that had been wrapped around my leg first to prevent chafing.

To lay eyes on my leg, ankle, and foot was a wonderful thing.

If I could have hugged them, I would have.

I’ll admit that I did pet on them a few minutes…pet being a good word to use because my leg was h-a-i-r-y after not being shaved for five weeks!

Ha!

Next, I was off to get an x-ray.   The technician was a sweet lady who shared her own story about being in a cast and boot.

Two x-rays later, and I made my way to an examination room to wait for my surgeon’s PA…a nice guy who had seen me during my first visit.

While I waited, I took a closer look at my leg.  The swelling had gone down a lot from my last visit three weeks before.  The tissue damage on the top of my foot (from the splint that the ER put on too tightly the night I broke it) is still healing.  Sigh.

Much of my bruising is gone, and the incisions on each side of my ankle are healing well.

I don’t think the scars are going to be too noticeable…not that I care much about that.

You can see where the surgeon had to go further up on the outside of my leg.  That fracture was longer than he’d expected.

I had LOTS of questions for the PA.  I’d been keeping track of them on my phone…

He was very, very patient and answered each question thoroughly.

I’ll be wearing a boot for four weeks.

Folks, that’s two weeks less than what I’d been told during my last visit!

I have to wear the boot while I sleep for the first two weeks.

Cha-ching!  I felt like I’d won the lottery!  I may actually get to sleep again one day!

I don’t need to ice my ankle unless I’m in pain or swelling a lot.  It won’t necessarily help with healing.

I do have to wear the boot when I’m up though.

My favorite question and answer had to do with my pants.

Yes, I can wear skinny jeans, as long as I can tolerate any discomfort when putting them on.  The issue isn’t the break but my range of motion which is very, very, very limited.  My muscles are crap right now.  They are extremely tight, and I’m barely able to bend my ankle in any direction.  Mobility will return with time and exercise, though.

The doctor was actually stymied by the skinny jean question, though.  He laughed as he answered it because he’d never been asked it before.  I’d been concerned because the leg openings for skinny jeans aren’t big at all!  I didn’t want to impede healing by turning my foot wrong.

My next question…baths…was a YES!  He said I could take showers or baths with my right ankle submerged (no boot on, of course).

Y’all, I’d been looking forward to this since the very beginning!

Regarding socks, I actually have to wear one with the boot to prevent it from chafing my skin and to keep it from stinking from the sweat that inevitably comes off of legs and feet.

Blech!

One other question I asked was about how red my right foot was.  I was worried about circulation issues.

He assured me that the red indicated GREAT circulation…that my body was sending blood to heal the area of trauma.

Thank heavens!

Oh, and one other thing I learned was that along with the boot, I’d be slowly adding weight.  That’s something I already knew, but I didn’t know that I’d get to start right away!  The way it works is that I’ll be adding 25% of my body weight each week.  To figure this out, I was instructed to get on a scale and weigh myself and divide that by four.

To help me learn what each percentage feels like, I’ll have to press on the scale with my right foot (the broken ankle) until the 25% weight pops up.  I will then need to walk around using a walker or crutches with that weight on that foot.

In essence, at the end of four weeks, I’ll be putting 100% weight on my ankle.

This is both exciting and very scary!

I was also given instructions for some home exercises.  I have to use my right ankle to make the shapes of the letters of the alphabet in the air.  Sure, it sounds easy…until you have an ankle that will not move in any direction!

I’ll go back to the doctor in four weeks when he will assess my progress.  I will, more than likely, be permanently out of the boot by then and will begin physical therapy.

So, I had a good report…one that was desperately needed as my head tends to go places it shouldn’t sometimes when I think about the recovery process.

We were then sent to another office in the building so I could be fitted for a boot.  Before I left, the doctor wrapped my leg in an ACE bandage.

We waited…for a while.  Everyone and his brother was getting something.  Finally, it was my turn.

Now y’all, I don’t know why, but I thought this part would be easy.  After all, I’d already been through the break (so painful), surgery, and my return to work.

Nope.

As I sat there with the very gentle boot guy, I realized that I was in for more pain.

Trying to get my foot into the boot (it slides right in from the front) was no easy task.  Namely, putting my heel down flush with the sole of the boot proved incredibly difficult.

My Achilles tendon was crap.

After weeks of not being used, what was left of it had tightened up.

Ugh.

Because of that, there was pain in my heel and up the back of my ankle.

The guy was patient, and we did our best.  He showed me how to add air to the pad that runs around the back of my heel to give it support, and how to put it on and remove it.

There’s a crap-ton of Velcro.

Then, I scootered out to the car feeling a little like Darth Vader.

Chicky and I began our two-hour drive home…an interesting experience, let me tell you.

All I’ve got to say is Hips Don’t Lie brings back fond memories.

When we got home, we all trekked out to get my Rooster a new phone.  While we were at the store, I decided to upgrade mine and the Mr.’s.  Because they didn’t have the color my guys wanted, I was the only person to walk out of there with a new phone.

Yay, me!

I went from the 6 Plus to the 7 Plus.  The size is the same; the camera is much better, as is the processing speed (RAM).  It also comes with more storage…something I need with all of the photos I take.  Ahem.

We ran by Best Buy so I could buy a new case.

After a fun dinner out with my sweet hubby and the kids, I was finally able to do something I’d waited weeks for…

SHOWER!!!

No pictures though.  Try not to be too disappointed.

Ha!

I told the Mr. to go away until I called for him (he’d helped me into my shower chair).

This girl was about to use all of the hot water in the house!

I enjoyed every single second, taking my time when I shaved my uber-hairy leg.

Y’all, never ever take for granted the ability you have to stand in the shower.  I’m not kidding.  What a privilege it is!

I had taken off the bandage strips that had been placed over my incision, so I gently cleaned that area in the shower.

Take a look at my leg…

See that patch where the scab is gone?  There’s only a thin line of a scar.

Yep.  My surgeon is pretty good at his job.

Here’s the other side.

It definitely looks more gnarly; the swelling is a lot worse on this side too.  This totally confuses me.

I slipped the boot back on just long enough to get back to my recliner where I quickly took it off again so I could love on my ankle.

Let’s have some real talk real quickly.

The pain is still there, but it’s different now.

I had no idea that my skin would feel like it was on fire after getting my cast off.  I guess the adrenaline from having the cast removed delayed the pain.

I read online that the burning feeling was caused by the condition of my skin…so dry that it was stretched tight and flaking.

I massaged coconut oil into every part of my foot and ankle.  The doctor had told me to massage the incision areas to prevent scar tissue from building up underneath, so that’s what I did.

Then, I put on a long sock to keep it moisturized during the night.  This will be my nightly routine for the next few weeks, I think.

And so is it any wonder why I haven’t had time to blog lately?  My world stays in a state of flux, which isn’t a terrible thing right now because that involves having my family around.  🙂

If you wouldn’t mind, can I ask you to continue praying for me?

I’ve decided that this road to recovery is similar to parenting.  Every stage comes with its own set of challenges.  There are things to celebrate, but there’s a whole lot of hard stuff to work through as well.

Not only is this a physical struggle but an emotional one as well.  I keep telling myself that I CAN do this…that I WILL push through the pain (without pushing myself too hard), and that God WILL provide the healing I so desire.

The anxiety I’ve experienced still rears its ugly head from time to time, but not having the cast on anymore will help with that.

I’m still experiencing fear, which I know is from the devil but is a direct result of my injury.  The security I once felt was unexpectedly ripped from me, and I feel incredibly vulnerable now.

I’m learning so much about myself and am seeing an empathy develop for those who have similar injuries or those who are handicapped.  This isn’t a bad thing…just a time of change for me.

As always, I rejoice in all things.  My family…so supportive…my husband…truly an angel on earth…my friends…always ready to help…my Lord…a constant presence.

#findingjoyinthejourney remains my mantra on the easy and hard days.

Filed under: This-n-That | Tagged: trimalleolar fracture | 3 Comments »

Yesterday marked three weeks since I had surgery to repair my trimalleolar fracture.

Despite the fact that some days are still filled with pain (yesterday was not the best day in this regard), I’m seeing progress in what I can do.

The Mr. and I have resumed our dinners out at local establishments…

We make sure to ask for booths so I can put my leg up.

I’m back in the swing of things at work thanks to a wake-up routine that the Mr. and I have just about gotten a handle on…

I’m dressing more professionally again; the Mr. has seen to this with his shopping excursions and daily outfit selections.

The guy has good taste in clothes.  He bought me three dresses and two skirts (on sale) this past weekend and then went back to the store and bought me a few shirts to match (we decided to keep one after I tried them on).

Dressing nicely has helped my psyche.

Check out the scooter!  The Mr. works with a guy whose wife broke her ankle…maybe a year ago…and generously offered the use of several items.

The Mr. eagerly took him up on the offer, so now we have two scooters!

I’m using one for the house and the one with the basket for school.  We think it will help reduce the number of times he has to put the scooter in the car and take it out again.

I love the basket!  I used it today at school to carry my stuff to the copy room.

The second scooter also has this nifty item…

You know I’m having fun with that bell.  In fact, when the Mr. took it out of his car yesterday to adjust the seat and handlebars, I might have made a certain dog unhappy by ringing it more than a few times…

Another sign of progress is that I’m making my breakfast!  In my effort to get more calcium in my diet, I’m using fortified soy milk to make my old fashioned oatmeal.  I used to cook it with water.

I even washed my pot after!

Oh, and the Christmas present thing.

Thanks to the internet and Santa’s elves, who are sneaky things, I am making purchases and getting them into the house.

I did nearly get busted by the Mr. this afternoon when he came home from work earlier than I’d expected.  I quickly hid his gift…

In plain sight…

With whatever I could reach.

Let’s hope he doesn’t get the urge to peek.  Santa would have to move him to the Naughty List!

I am not overdoing things, though, so don’t worry.  At least, I’m trying not to.

I’m still lesson planning hard-core when I get home from school each day, but as of last night, my plans are finished through the second week of January, so I am set!  Copies are also made, except for the semester exam.

It’s really hard to believe that it’s been a month since I broke my ankle.  It seems like a long time, but then again it doesn’t.

I’m still #findingjoyinthejourney…seeking out a silver lining for every negative thought I have.

Filed under: This-n-That | Tagged: trimalleolar fracture | 1 Comment »

Time flies when you’re having fun, or so the saying goes, eh?

Well, let me tell you that the days since my surgery have dragged by.  When you can’t do the things you normally do, that’s kind of how it is.

Not so this weekend.

I had a rough time Friday evening as we were getting ready to go to sleep.  I didn’t want to sleep in the recliner again.  I’d tried to sleep on the couch a couple of nights last week, but my back started hurting midway through, which made for some long hours.

I started crying in frustration and told the Mr. that I wanted to sleep in a regular bed, but I didn’t want to be by myself across the house.

The Mr. was too afraid to let me sleep in the master bedroom because he didn’t want to hit my leg in the middle of the night, but my tears softened his resolve, and he set me up on his side of the bed…the right side…so that my ankle would be farther away from him.

Y’all, I sank into that bed with such satisfaction in my heart that I started crying from joy, which made the Mr. go crazy because all I’ve seemed to do lately is cry.  I tried to tell him that I was crying because FINALLY, I felt normal.

I slept so much better that night.  I’m not sure that the Mr. did, but as I’ve mentioned a time or two lately, he’s a good man.

Waking up refreshed, I was ready to take on the world…and not be left behind while the Mr. ran his weekly Saturday errands.

He helped me get dressed in warmup pants and a long-sleeve workout shirt and reluctantly helped me in the car.

We headed over to Walmart, where he secured some new wheels for me…

Oh goodness, but do you see that smile?

Yeah.  it didn’t leave my face all morning.

I propped my leg up because I needed to keep it elevated.  I was careful not to run into anything.

After we finished at Walmart, we headed over to Dunkin’ Donuts so the Mr. could get his coffee.  We don’t own a coffee pot.  We went through the drive-thru.

Next on his list was Publix.

It was still fairly early so there were numerous motorized chairs available.  I eased myself onto one, and off we went.

Now, I’ll admit that prior to my injury, grocery shopping hadn’t been high on my list of favorite things to do.  That’s why the Mr. had taken over this task and, might I add, gotten quite good at it.

It’s amazing how much your perspective changes when stuff like triple ankle fractures happen.

I was surprised at how much food we packed into that little basket too!

The Mr. tried to tell me how much I was slowing him down, but between you and me, I think he actually enjoyed having me around.  We had a few laughs, including when he picked this out so he can clean the bathtub.  He said he doesn’t to want to bend over to do it.  Poor guy.

Next, we headed over to Starbucks because I really wanted a Soy Peppermint Hot Chocolate and the Mr. was all about letting me enjoy my morning, bless him.

Then, we went home to watch football the rest of the day.

I was happy though.

That evening, I did get the Mr. to pull out another set of wheels…

Ignore the ugly picture in the background.  War Eagle!

A friend (a fellow teacher) had secured it for me from one of her former students.  He had taken it to school my first day back, but I hadn’t been ready to use it yet.  My leg had still been too sore to prop up there.

I practiced with it around the house Saturday evening, and we tinkered with the seat and handlebar heights until they were just right.

I was nervous but oh goodness…the freedom…the stability.

Sigh.  Happiness.

The first big test was yesterday morning at church.  The hubby loaded it in the back of the car, and off we went.

I quickly learned that I had to keep a close eye on the ground to watch for rocks or other things that might get in the way.

I cannot afford to fall; my fracture still has a lot of healing to do.

I got in without any problems and was able to actually keep up with the Mr. as he walked into the sanctuary.

I breathed a sigh of relief.

I even managed to get myself to the restroom, where I quickly learned that I’m going to have to use the handicapped stall for awhile.

I was grateful to be back.  I’d missed church for the last three weeks.

After church, we went out to eat where I did hit a rock in the parking lot when I wasn’t paying attention.  Scared me a little.  The Mr. was not pleased either.  It was a good lesson.

After a quick trip home, we ran to the mall to hunt for mother-of-the-groom shoes for me.

Did you catch that?  I was shopping…something I don’t enjoy much but was so thankful to be doing again.

I’d bought a pair before I broke my ankle but wasn’t sure if the small heel would be safe.

I wound up deciding to keep the shoes because I was much more stable on them than I’d expected given the scooter.  I will definitely not be using crutches the day of the wedding.

I also bought a cute clutch to go with my fancy dress.  It was even on sale.  Go, Me!

After a quick text to my seamstress, who’s still working on my dress, we ran over there for another fitting.  She re-pinned the hem and will have to redo it to shorten it a little.  We are trying to ensure that I won’t trip on the dress.  She also gave me pointers on how to gracefully kneel on the scooter and wheel myself around.

We all know that grace isn’t my middle name, but God performs miracles daily, so there is hope.

The Mr. and I were tired after that, so he headed home.

He snapped this photo of me before we went inside…

See that smile there?

That is the look of pure joy.

When you experience an injury like the one I have, it’s hard to remember what it’s like to feel independent.  It’s hard to see light at the end of the tunnel as well.

This weekend gave me hope, and it gave me a taste of the freedom that I’d taken for granted.

If you hear the song, “They see me rollin’, they hatin’,” that will be me, carefully making my way through the crowd…or maybe not a crowd because a crowd might hit my ankle.  It will be me, with my Mr. keeping watch, enjoying life a little bit more as each day brings me closer to complete healing.

Filed under: This-n-That | Tagged: trimalleolar fracture | 2 Comments »

As mentioned in my previous post, I went to my first post-op appointment on Tuesday.

I’d been emailing a nurse earlier that day with various questions, and she moved my Thursday post-op appointment to Tuesday afternoon.  The Mr. got off of work quickly, and we drove the two hours to Bigger City, Florida, where we stopped at his parents’ house first and then went to my appointment.

The first order of business was removing the splint that I’d woken up from surgery with.

Oh, the feeling of relief when the nurse pulled that thing off of me.  It was like the loosening of a vice grip.  Things had to be tight to keep my recently pinned and plated bones in place.

Now, if you’re squeamish, I’ll go ahead and advise you to stop reading.  Some of the pictures are pretty ugly.

I had been curious what my leg would look like.  It’s a good thing I’d looked up this injury on Google, because I was a bit prepared.  Still though…

It looks a little like Frankenstein, eh?  Those are staples running down my incision, which the nurse was pleased to see.

Here’s a view of the other side of the ankle…

The next picture is a shot of the top of my foot.

See the red splotches?  I didn’t get those from the break.  I got those from the splint that my local emergency room put on after they fixed the dislocation in my ankle (the one thing they did right).  They put my splint on TOO TIGHT, which is why I was in so much pain the first night after I broke it.  Of course, I thought the pain was from the fracture, so I didn’t know better.  On our way to my surgeon’s office the next day, I cried nearly every mile, which made for a long hour and a half drive.  The pain was a real thing.  I kept telling the Mr. that it felt like someone was holding my foot in the sun.  When they took off the splint at the doctor, they discovered a severe burn from where it had rubbed my foot raw.

It was appalling.  And…the ER gave me a Tier 1 pain medication, which did nothing to dull the pain…another thing my surgeon immediately corrected.

So, the red splotches are a bit of tissue damage…not too deep but still there.

Sigh.

Before the nurse removed my staples, I had to get my ankle x-rayed.  I sat in a chair in the hall and snapped a couple more pictures.

Being able to wiggle my toes felt so good.  The x-ray technician likened it to allowing my foot to breathe.  Indeed!

Seeing that my leg was still there did much for my psyche.

I didn’t care about the bruising, and the yellow Betadine didn’t bother me either.  My leg was in one piece.  That’s all that mattered.

After my x-ray, my nurse escorted the Mr. and me to an examination room.  She began removing the staples.

It didn’t really hurt except for a few times, but even then, the pain was minor.  It was more like pulling hair out of a sensitive spot.  Besides that, I’d been through so much pain already, that this paled in comparison.

The incisions looked so much better without the extra hardware!

Then, my nurse began to gently clean my leg.

She used alcohol wipes which, at first, felt good because they were cool but then began stinging like fire as my skin soaked in the alcohol.

That discomfort quickly dissipated, though, and I was able to simply enjoy the tender care that she was giving me.

See how much better it looked after she finished?!

The PA came in to look at the x-ray and answer questions, which I had a lot of, much to the Mr.’s chagrin.

I learned that I’d be going into a cast, which I already knew and dreaded like the plague.  However, the PA gave me good news by telling me that I’d be in it for three weeks before going into a removable boot.

Y’all, I had already been emailing my nurse that morning, and she had told me I’d be in a cast for four weeks.  I’d already looked at my calendar and figured out exactly when I could go back in to get it off…the week after Christmas.

The PA explained that they counted the week after surgery, with me in a splint, as one of those four weeks.

Praise the Lord.

He knew I’d been struggling.  This was His answer to soothe my soul.

I’ll be wearing the boot for six weeks.

I will not be able to put weight on my foot while I wear the cast, which is fine with me.  I know that my body hasn’t healed enough yet.

While I wear the boot, I’ll be “progressively weight bearing,” which I think means that I’ll still be using crutches and a scooter until my ankle finishes healing and gradually adding some of my body weight as the weeks progress.

Physical therapy will begin at that point.  I don’t know how long I will be in physical therapy.

One step at a time, literally.

Another question I asked the PA involved my return to lifting weights.

Oh yes I did.

I really want to get back to upper body workouts, which I feel like I can do if someone helps me with the weights.  I don’t want to undo all of my hard work from the past year.

She told me that they preferred that I refrain from working out until towards the end of my boot time because they want my body to use all of its energy to heal my broken bones.

I know that working out involves the tearing down and rebuilding of muscle, so that made sense to me.

But y’all…I cannot even do ab workouts.

Sigh.

At least balancing on one leg on my crutches is its own core workout program.

Wonder if I could market that.

Ha!

I inquired about a smaller cast because of some of my anxiety.  She agreed that I could get one in which my toes were left more open, but how far up it would go would be standard.

Sigh.

She did at first mention possibly putting me in a boot straight off, but it would be a good option.  I told her not to worry about it…I’d be fine with God’s help.

She was super sweet.  She was the second PA I’d seen…my surgeon has two.  She did not make me feel rushed, and she even went back with me to the cast room, my next stop.

The cast room was one big room…very spacious…with lots and lots of patient tables.

This practice is huge and very popular in this town.  Its doctors are excellent; many are specialists for certain parts of the body.  It’s definitely the place to go, even if you’re from out of town.

I just did not want the cast.

Sigh.

At least I got an assortment of cast colors to choose from…

I had planned on letting my students help me decide what to get, but since I had not returned to work yet, I had to decide on my own.

I thought about my dress for Rooster’s wedding and what would go with it, even though it’s floor length.

I wound up going with pink for the bottom…

The way it works is that you get a sock like thing first.  I guess it’s to protect the skin and the incisions.

Then, the technician who puts on the cast wraps the leg with protective gauze and padding.  He put extra on top of my foot where I’d acquired the tissue damage from the ER splint.  He also added extra around my ankle bones and heel…the areas I had broken.

Next came the top layer, which was, essentially some sort of wrap that he wet and that hardened after it was applied.

I went with blue to contrast with the pink.

The cast was much slimmer than the splint I’d had from my surgery.

I will tell you a quick story about what they had to do before they finished, though.

A mild form of torture.

The technician had to get my foot as close to a 90-degree angle as possible to help prevent problems with my Achilles tendon after I get the cast removed.

Y’all, my foot would not go down.  The tendon was very tight.  No matter how much I tried, I could not make it go down.

So the technician called in for reinforcements.  They had me lay on my belly on the table.

Y’all, I almost started crying as I begged them not to hurt me any more.  It was horrible.  I was so scared.

I had to hold my right leg up with my foot in the air while one guy pushed down on the bottom of my foot to get it to that angle.

It was mostly a lot of pressure and didn’t hurt until one time when it felt like they twisted my ankle a tad.  I hollered out at that.  Before I knew it, they were done.

Thankfully.

Meanwhile, a teenager and her mom had come into the room.  The girl, I learned, was a cheerleader (a flyer) who’d broken her ankle, but not bad enough for surgery.

She wasn’t an overachiever like I was.  She also probably didn’t have brittle bones.

Oh to be young again.

Anyhoo, I told her that it hadn’t hurt.  Her mom told me that I’d looked scared.

Um, you think?

So, hat’s the down and dirty of it.  I’m less than 21 days away from Cast Removal Day, which also happens to be the last day of school before Christmas vacation.  I’ve already arranged for a sub and requested another day of sick leave.

Please continue praying for the healing of my bones.  How I wish I could thank you all personally for the prayers you’ve already offered on my behalf.

I still have a long way to go, but I am on my way and am better than I was even just a few days ago.  #findingjoyinthejourney is still my hashtag, because that’s what it’s all about.

Love to all of you!

 

Filed under: This-n-That | Tagged: trimalleolar fracture | 2 Comments »