A Break

Yep, a break. From nursing, fixing my hair, and just about everything else that requires the use of both hands. And probably, sadly, from rollerblading for the rest of the summer.

I went out for a blade Thursday the 18th after work. It had been a beautiful day and I went straight from work to the Olentangy bike trail, changing from my scrubs to roller attire in the car. It was the joyous, free flying, as-close-as-you-can-get-to-dancing-along-the-sidewalk fun it usually is. I went all the way to the end of the trail and was nearly back when my right skate hit something slick as I pushed off. With a complete loss of balance, I fell forward onto my left hand, then rolled to my right side. In the seconds it took to fall, I was having a conversation with myself regarding what the outcome would be: the usual getting up, wiping off the dirt, suffering a scrape and possible humiliation if someone was watching, or something more. I sat up, looked at my wrist, and noticed immediately, being a trained health care professional, that #$@!!, it was broken, as my wrist and hand had a funny "s" shape that didn't use to be there.

Many kind folks stopped to help, and a couple walked up off the path with me, as the medics were unable to reach us on the trail. They hauled my sweaty, dirt-covered self to the OSU ED, where Jim was waiting and my previous co-workers took excellent care of me. Last Monday I had a plate and multiple pins surgically placed- an ORIF, or open reduction, internal fixation of my shattered and dislocated distal radius, followed by tender loving care from my husband, mom, and sibs.

I have become pretty good at one- handing a lot of things: hanging sheets on the line (teeth involved); mopping the kitchen floor (propping the mop handle on my thigh as I used my right hand to scrub), and typing. I haven't figured out how to do ANYTHING with my hair with only one hand, nor can I floss, and that's one thing I won't ask for help with. While I wait, Jim and I will research and buy a good wrist brace that will be my concession to begin dancing on wheels, flying free once again.

A talented artist

My stepdaughter, Leah Elizabeth, was given a special gift of artistry. Even as a young child, she would add some special angle or perspective that I would have never thought of, and it made the picture more realistic. Her drawing skills have continued to grow and her current etchings of women, fairies, and dresses are truly amazing.

The figure she is painting in this picture began as a lump of clay. Leah *formed a 3 dimensional woman wearing a white shirt and denim jean shorts, complete with miniature back pockets.
She is amazing.
* Actually, her original figure was blown into pieces when the kiln "blew up", requiring a substantial redo.