The 87th Circle of Broken Leg Hell

And welcome to my world, dear reader. That was quite a break I took from the blog, but that is because I was LIVING my life. Oh my, in the five weeks between broken legs I did have a good time.

Oooh, there were so many wonderful things I did. I planted winter annuals. Dan and I celebrated out twenty -fifth with a few very fine and very good old-as in duration- and YEAH old too 'cept for one who is a mere fifty-something.

Oh, and I garage sales and found some groovy things while visions of PROFITS danced in my head.

Always looking to turn a profit- always looking for a return, and aren't we all? I know this girl is.

I cleaned my house inside and outside from top to bottom. I got my porch floor so clean that it make me feel stupid.

I walked with my tunes around my sweet old tract houses- for Gi's- after WW II- neighborhood. I rejoiced in the comfort I took by passing by the houses that have remained the same during the

thirty years in which my husband and I have lived in this place- our modest, but oh so lovely and loved pale pink concrete block 1953 home. Our home. My home. The only home I have ever had that really felt like home.

MeUs

Pets

Furnishings

Trees

I have a home. It took almost forty years, but after living that long I finally carved out a place that is love. Love in every piece of sweat and slow progress that Dan and I have put into N. Edison.

Tangent time. Tangent time.

My whole life has been on TANGENT TIME.

My angle was never right.

I was born obtuse.

Made wrong

not a Right angle

straight and easy

Ridiculed

obtuse angle

wide-open

and unpredictable

Broken Ankle

Time to blog

So mad about this second break in five months

I just spewed venom for three hours

as I tried to maneuver through house chores

with one leg stuck in cement

I cussed so much that I gave myself

pause.

And that was a lot of cussing because I was raised by a mother who taught me how to cuss really well.

Always had a dirt mouth

My dirty mouth

gives me a few private little chuckles now and then

Later. Back Season 4 of Six Feet Under

watching it the second time around

Great show. I adore Frances Conroy!

and a snippet of conversation between Nat and his dead dad.

Nate: "The idea of forty more years."

Dead Father: "The next forty years will fly by; it will be over before you know it."

Nate: Time flies when you are having fun, Huh?"

Dad: "No, time flies when you are pretending to have fun. Times flies when you are pretending to know what people mean when they say, "love.". Let's face it, buddy boy. There are two kinds of people in the world. There is you and everybody else. And never the twain shall meet."

Hey, don't pretend to know for sure what this means, but it is intriguing.

Later.

AND NOW I WILL DANCE FROM MY CHAIR

I just wanna live my life without asking for help. I don't think that we realize what a prize independence is until we don't have it.

I busted up my ankle this time. I lay on the floor surrounded by my dear friends. We were having a singalong after our dinner party.

I have spent a good deal of time creating singalong books filled with the lyrics to the songs that make me feel alive, happy, silly and joyous. I created a playlist of the songs to go the lyrics.

And why did I do this. It started after a big loss in which my heart got broken bad.

with

I have long known that the land of music is one of the highest places for me to be. It can lift my mood faster than anything. So a couple of years back I started the singalong project.

So we are all sitting around singing to Tom Petty's "Refugee", The Beatles "Rocky Racoon" and then "Do You Love Me" by the DC5 comes on. No, it is not enough for me to simply sing. I find that I must get up and move. Yeah, baby, this chick must move. Sittin' still to "Refugee" was bad enough.

So I am cruising along in my bare feet, and when the song gets to that part where Dave shouts out "Watch me now". Well, now I just have to jump up for effect, but instead of landing flat on my feet my ole knee - well, it buckles out from under me, and I try to do a save with my foot.

Long story short. That save did not work. Next thing I know I am lying on my floor with my friends looking down at me. My ankle is twisted out in the most unnatural formation. The pain is hot, but the deepest pain is in my head. I know there is something really bad with my leg again.

• I fight going to the ER. I wanna lie on the floor and wait to get bett
• er and get up and dance
• e some more, but I allow myself to be taken to the hospital.

Report: FINDINGS: There is a comminuted fracture of the distal fibula at the level of the tibiofibular syndesmosis. There is a lateral displacement of approximately 7 mm.

A comminuted fracture of the medial malleolus is noted, also with mild lateral displacement. Periarticular soft tissue swelling is noted. The bones appear diffusely demineralized.

Translation: two bones that meet where my ankles begins are broken in to small pieces. The bones have been moved out of place. I will require surgery which will include the place of a stainless steel plate and several screws to hold my bones together. I will not walk for three or four months.

Wait. I just did this. A car accident broke my tibia and kneecap. I escaped surgery, but I was bound to a wheelchair for ten weeks.

I have a five week interlude of living normal which meant driving, going shopping by myself, pushing the vacuum cleaner, walking to the refrigerator and opening it and using the restroom without gearing myself up for the painful movement that getting from point A to point B requires.

This is happening all over again. There have been many nights of fitful dreams. Mostly recently I dreamt of a sea of blood. In the weeks before this new nightmare I have had dreams that always involve a frightening physical struggle in which to find safety involves fast movements and quick thinking.

Oh, no, all that is replaying itself. I cannot move fast and my thinking is clouded with fear, fatigue and pain.

I am a woman in need, and it terrifies me.