September 24, 2018

Original title, I know.

What happens tomorrow, the date specified above, could be all good - or it could be all bad. Or it could be a combination of the two.

As always, the night before any procedure that involves anesthesia, my mind races from one end of the spectrum to the other. Especially because, several times, I have had difficulty coming out of anesthesia.

Tomorrow's procedure is something called an endoscopic ultrasound, or EUS, and is being done to get a better view of my pancreas, and common bile duct, which is enlarged. Biopsies can also be done at this time if needed. Not being able to have an MRI due to the vagus nerve stimulator in my chest, the EUS is the only other option available for this purpose. Well, unless they slice me open.

I had been hoping and praying that Henry would be able to come into town for a few days to go with me, however, his work has taken him out of the country and he is unable to do so.

I had wanted to keep my Dad and stepmom out of this until it was over because they don't need the added stress of worrying about me. Unfortunately, I had to get my stepmom involved because someone has to be at the hospital with me during the procedure, and someone has to drive me home afterward. I asked her not to tell my dad about this, and I hope she honored that request.

Right now, all I want is to feel better. I hope that isn't too much to ask.

Dream State

Waking up in the midst of a dream, sweaty and crying, chest and throat aching and feeling as though you just finished a triathalon, makes my heart hurt for a day or two. The heaviness and brutality of dreaming of something that I know can never be changed is the worst.

I remember what the dream was and the conflict it was trying to make sense of.

People around me have no idea that I carry a painful burden of knowing I have failed my kids and that as hard as I try to get close to them, they won't let me. I cannot do this all alone, do they know that?

Finding out on social media that one son is home on leave from the Marine Corps and has made no effort to see me - even after I reached out to him while he was home - I cannot shake the feeling of not being good enough for him.

Matthew will be graduating from college this Spring and I feel enormously proud of him for having stayed with it.

There is no easy way to think of Hunter without feeling somehow betrayed by him and hurting because it was he who abandoned me. Yeah, that's fucked up.

Absent parent. That is what I am to my kids.

What my kids - and people around me - don't know is that I am also absent in my life and going through the motions just biding my time until somehow, some way, I reach the other side.

Is it wrong to hope that the next round of medical tests reveals that I am (finally) on my way?

That's fucked up, too.

City Doctors

Another doctor appointment to check the status of parathyroid hormones, vitamin B12, vitamin D and serum calcium. The sleep apnea study showed nothing yet I believe if they did an in-lab study as opposed to a home study it would show the severe muscle and body jerks that keep me from falling to sleep too many nights to count. I have muscle jerks that move entire body across the bed. Which I find kinda creepy.

For the vitamin B12 deficiency I am giving myself injections at home and last night was the first dose as the doctor sent the prescription to the wrong pharmacy.

The vitamin D deficiency is being treated daily with 2,000 units daily plus 50,000 units weakly. Hopefully it is helping my bones absorb more calcium instead of excreting it into my blood which, in turn, causes me to feel so crappy all the time. Adding high parathyroid hormone to the high calcium in my blood and I feel extra crappy. Oddly enough I had one parathyroid gland removed in 2009 and since then every doctor I visited - including the doctors I worked for - have said, "Let's wait and see" or something equally stupid. 

FINALLY I found a doctor who didn't dismiss my concerns and is actively helping me find the answer.

______________________________

The city I am currently living in is definitely NOT for me. I am so wretchedly homesick for the area I was forced to leave and I wish desperately to go back there. This area I live in has more bad memories attached to it than I realized at first, and I just want to go home. Were it not for the terrific job I have, I would pack up and leave. After finding a new job, of course.

I have not yet visited my dad and stepmom, and they haven't extended an invitation for me too and because of the huge elephant in the room...I don't really know how all of this will end up, and being that I always think the worst and hope for the best I have already accepted the fact, sort of, that what happened last fall could be the end of my relationship with my dad.

If Henry were here I would ask for his advice and guidance on how to handle this situation. It was because of Henry that I even ventured out to reestablish my relationship with my dad.

I cannot ever imagine telling my kids exactly what Kay said to me when they were standing in the midst of Hell and trying to survive. What she said was not only kicking me when I was down, she built a hole, shoved me in it and threw dirt on top of me. What she did was mean and evil. Simple as that.  Then finding out that my dad, who actually told this to me on the phone, agreed with her...I felt completely obliterated.  The odd thing about the whole thing is that I did not, and I would not have, asked them for any type of help. All I wanted, what I needed most, was for them to just be there. 

Instead I was drawn and quartered.

I realize I am not the only person in the world to feel as though they are their own entity. Meaning, whatever decisions I make, whatever heartbreak I have - and I have too many to count - the only person I can count on is myself. And I am my own worst enemy. 

The. 

Worst.

It is as though I have completely caved into myself and I cannot let anybody in. Not even a pinky toe. Because I was blessed, for a time, by the greatest love of all given to my by the one and forever only true love. I KNEW I was loved by Henry. Not because he said he loved me, and not because of the special gifts he gave me. I knew he loved me by the way he looked at me and by the way he touched me. We didn't have to say anything at all because the feeling of being loved didn't need words.

Henry and I made some amazing memories, as a couple and as a family. I cannot ever, EVER, remember feeling so happy in my life. Feeling as though I was part of something; that I belonged. Many people wait an entire lifetime to feel the way I felt. It was something I felt from our very first conversation - May 12, 1999 - and it scared the hell out of me. "If it's too good to be true..."

Because of past relationships, it took a while for Henry and I to trust one another. I don't think it took Henry as long as it took me to trust him, as a man, to trust the feelings he brought forth, and to trust the relationship as a whole. I have said before that Henry and I had to actually learn what a good relationship was, and it wasn't easy for either of us. Well, it wasn't easy for me because I was unmedicated and could go from zero to full BZ (Bitchzilla) in a matter of seconds.

Henry was so amazingly patient with me, from the very beginning of our relationship, and although I gave him many (Many!) reasons to, he never raised his voice to me. Henry never called me derogatory names either. And, again, I gave him so many reasons to.

When I was trying to find help for Hunter, Henry helped me fight with school administrators and doctors and therapists. When I was going through my own mental health issues, Henry stood beside me through it all. When Hunter and I were in different hospitals, on opposite ends of the earth, at the same time Henry  was there for Hunter and me.

Although I'm sure I probably didn't tell Henry often enough how much I appreciated him, and appreciated everything he did and how grateful I am that he stood beside me while Hunter and I both tried to get help.

There is no question in my mind that Henry sacrificed a lot for Jake, Hunter, Matthew, Connor and me. No doubt at all. Without complaint.

Looking back I can see what was probably the beginning of our end; the night in 2004 when I deliberately overdosed. I believe that Henry, even now 13 years later, has never and will never forgive me for that. I believe that he saw me in a completely different light after that. He never said so, of course, yet I still believe things changed between us that night.

Henry and I liked to have dinner and lunch with friends. Sometimes it would be a snack like a cup of coffee. In fact, Henry suggested we do so even though I warned him repeatedly that he would change his mind about hanging out with friends so much. Henry of course didn't heed my warnings and what I told him would happen, happened. Since I enjoyed spending time with friends, I continued to hang out with a few regularly even though Henry didn't much care for them. So, me being me, turned into a stubborn bitch and spent even more time with friends and, many times, Henry didn't even know.  Not only do I regret agreeing that Henry and I should see friends more often, I regret that I spent time with people Henry didn't like, and behind his back.

The end became crystal clear to me when, on our 7th anniversary, I had major surgery, with complications of course, and Henry pretty much stayed away. The one visit he did make, beyond driving me to the hospital then, 3 days later, driving me home, he brought me a bunch of magazines, stayed for what seemed like only a minute, then left.

The next month, after badgering him for weeks, he finally answered my question, "Do you want to divorce?". His answer was "Yes". I was completely crushed. Although I was pretty sure of what his answer might be, hearing him say "Yes" finally dropped the other shoe, something he said would never happen. And it  something I told him from the very beginning was my biggest fear and would eventually come to pass. This had happened to me again and again and not just with husbands and boyfriends, but friendships as well.

If I had known then what I now know, I still would have taken the chance anyway. Otherwise I would never have experienced the greatest love from the most amazing man. I was not only loved, I loved him with everything I had. I was all in.

If I had known then what I know now, and if I could have seen Henry was battling demons of his own and if Henry had actually shown signs of trouble, maybe I could have helped him and he would have stayed. Not being one to show anything other than happiness, unless Henry told me, it was a no-win situation.

It was until about 6 or 8 weeks ago that Henry actually shared with me what it was he was doing battle with. Although he did not go into details about exactly what was happening, I didn't push him to share more.  I wanted to in the worst way, yet I knew he would not have disclosed anything more and if I did push it would end badly.

Every now and again I tease Henry by saying I know he still loves me and misses me, and his answer is always the same; he doesn't agree or disagree with me.  The past few days I have wondered if his ambivalence has anything to do with him wanting to fight the demons all by himself. Which is something Henry has done since the day we met. Not being able to be supportive and stand next to Henry until he comes out the other side is tremendously difficult. Thinking about all the times Henry has been my rock and champion and not being able to do the same for him saddens me deeply.

Having such an incredible person in my life for so long, then not having him at all has been a difficult adjustment. In reality however I have not adjusted hardly at all.

In my craziest dreams I would never have thought that I would miss Henry saying "I love you" or miss all the idiosyncrasies and our secret language that made our relationship so amazing. I could not have known how much it would hurt, nor could I have known that it would launch me into a totally different world where Henry would not be.

There is nobody - NOBODY - that I want to spend the rest of my life with except Henry.

The collateral damage of Henry leaving is losing other people that you love and adore; his mom, dad and sister, to name a few.

All I can do is put one foot in front of the other in an attempt to keep moving forward instead of standing still.

* Apologies for all the misspellings. It is just difficult to type when you are crying because you can't see the keyboard.

Calming Down

The craziness that has been my life for so long seems to be finally calming down.

The debilitating female health issues that have been plaguing me for the past 9 months are almost completely taken care of, the grueling, time consuming, intense four months of National Ski Patrol (NSP), Outdoor Emergency Care (OEC) classes and final exams are over and, let's not forget, the future of my marriage was finally decided by the other half. Although I disagree with his decision from the bottom of my heart, I also know that there is nothing I can do to change his mind.

I've written several posts about Henry and how I have always believed he was the 'Love of My Life' and my 'Soul Mate', and I will forever stand by those. All of the billions of moments we declared "forever" to each other and that we were "in love for the last time in our lives" (the latter from the movie "Murphy's Romance"), I now have to live with the gut-wrenching reality that it's over.

My mind cannot even begin to wrap around the idea of Henry walking out of my life because that has never been my mindset. It has never even been a fleeting thought. I cannot remember there never being an "us". HenryAndCarrie. CarrieAndHenry. Never one without the other and we loved being that way.

My brain has always been my worst enemy because of it being Bipolar. Replaying all the wonderful memories that I have of Henry and me has made it absolutely unbearable. Taking it to the nth degree of excruciating is the fact that Henry holds so many memories of mine that I lost/never registered because of Electro-Convulsive Therapy.

When he leaves, he takes my memories with him...

Happy New Year?

I wish that ~ more than anything ~ this year will be a happy year. So far it's not looking very good.

I have been loathing sitting down and adding a new entry to my blog. Until a few moments ago, literally, I couldn't put my finger on the reason why. It finally occurred to me that I am afraid of the tears.

I am not scared of the tears themselves, rather I am terrified of the emotions that are bottled up behind them. The emotions are raw, potent and deep and what bubbles to the surface now and again rock me to my core.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ Hunter ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Today we went to court with Hunter regarding his assault and battery charges. In addition to a woman from Child Protective Services following us, Hunter now has a Probation Officer. In exchange for a guilty plea (which we planned all along because Hunter admits what he did), of the three cases pending, totaling six people assaulted, two of the cases (five people) were dismissed. The remaining case/charge is against his teacher.

How did CPS become involved you ask? Well, right before Christmas Hunter pulled a knife on his stepbrother with every intent on killing him. (Henry intervened.) I was asleep at the time of the incident and woke up the next morning to find a very large knife laying on a table near my side of the bed.

I was furious.

When I woke Hunter for school the next morning I bombarded him with questions and statements. "What were you thinking?!", "Do you have any idea what will happen to you if you kill somebody?!" On and on I went.

Up until that moment Hunter had never seen me so livid and I think at first it surprised him. I pushed (verbally) too far and Hunter became frustrated. When he becomes frustrated he gets angry, when he gets angry he becomes violent. When he walked away from me and descended the stairs to the first floor bathroom, I was right on his heels.

As I moved to grab his arm, a quick succession of punches were sent in my direction, landing in various places on my body. I fought back. That is until Hunter grabbed and tangled his one hand in my very long hair. Our bodies were so close together that the only body part of his exposed to me was an arm, so I bit him. HARD. By this time my stepson, Jake, had intervened and had Hunter pinned up against the bathroom mirror and Hunter let go of my hair.

When I retreated upstairs I heard Jake talking to Hunter and Hunter calmed down enough to finish preparing for school. Shortly after, and still shaking, I left for work and Hunter left for school.

Later that afternoon I received a call from the school nurse, someone who has known Hunter and our family since he was in kindergarten. She started off by saying she and the staff at his former elementary school and current junior high school were behind Henry and me 100%. She said everyone knows we are great parents and that we are totally involved with helping Hunter and that it hasn't been an easy road.

Then came the "but"...the teacher noticed the bite mark on his arm and they were required to report it to either CPS or the police and which one did I want them to turn to? I told her to call CPS because the police would defer us to them and it would just eliminate the monkey-in-the-middle.

So that's how CPS became involved in our lives. Although I don't *dislike* the CPS worker, she does have a tendency to annoy me greatly with her idiosyncrasies.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ Relationships ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

The stress of all things Hunter are more than enough for me. Unfortunately, on top of that, my relationship with my husband hasn't been what it used to be, although very recently, it has slightly improved.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ Health ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

My health is still not the best and more issues have arisen that, in addition to their own set of symptoms, only exacerbate the tiredness and fatigue I already feel from the diseases we already knew about.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ Activities ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

One thing I am fighting hard for is to stay active and not let the tiredness and fatigue cause me to sleep my life away.

I recently began training for the National Ski Patrol ~ even though I'm a snowboarder ~ at one of our local ski areas. Currently it's on-hill training, twice a week, (plus one duty shift a week) and it totally wears me out. Yet I LOVE the exhilarated feeling I get when I'm learning a new skill and I finally accomplish it, or I'm just free-styling wide-open down the hill.

Being outside ~ and in the cool air ~ is a bonus!

I am still viciously determined that 2010 be a much better year than 2009.

Only time will tell...

Health Issues ~ Old and New

I had hoped that my health issues of the past would not move forward into the present ~ yet they have.

In addition to the hypercalcemia and hyperparathyroidism making their comebacks, and the need for a second surgery in the wings, I am also having "female" issues that in order to resolve, will require surgery and a complete hysterectomy.

I have prided myself thus far by keeping my blogging clean. However, in this situation only one word could possibly describe the recent events regarding my health.

F.U.C.K.!

Parathyroidectomy Completed!

This surgery was originally scheduled for June 16th but due to an infection inside my left foot, from having hardware removed, it was postponed for one week.

In order for the surgeon to better see the wonky parathyroid gland, I had to arrive at the hospital much earlier than a typical same-day patient to have radioactive material injected into my veins. It seems parathyroid glands are pretty picky about what they snuggle up to, and due to their deep and loving relationship with radioactive materials, it causes the glands to sparkle and shine.

The hospital where the surgery took place was pretty cool. (I feel I am expert in judging hospitals since this would be my third surgery in 3 months.) Their same-day surgery area was its own wing, with two beds per room -- and a door, not a curtain, that closed!

The surgery itself took almost three hours and after two hours in the recovery room I was returned to the same-day surgery unit to order room-service, watch television and sleep. Which, after I ate, is all I did for the next 18 hours.

All is well.

'Twas the Night...

...before surgery and all through the house...

Actually, tomorrows' surgery will be a piece of cake compared to the surgery I have coming up on June 16th.

Tomorrow, the Foot Wizard will be removing the hardware he inserted almost (exactly) three months ago to help the broken bones heal. Ever since the last cast came off and I was able to use the CAM boot and put some weight on my formerly broken foot, the screws have bothered me terribly when walking. It feels as though, with every step, they will protrude through the bottom of my foot.

I am back to wearing my Skecher's and Fagawi's and I could not be more thrilled!

Returning to work is NOT far behind.

The surgery taking place on the 16th is has a lot more risks involved. In the process of removing my parathyroid glands, for instance, my vocal cords could become temporarily or permanently paralyzed. How is that for a wake me up? Although I am certain there are a few people on this earth that probably wouldn't mind never hearing my voice again, it kind of freaks me out.

A lot.

Thyroid Ultrasound

The thyroid ultrasound I had on Monday pretty much confirmed what we already knew (parathyroid glands) and possibly what was suspected (thyroid). We won't know the official results of the ultrasound for three to five business days.

I am starting to really loathe that timeframe "three to five business days" for this, that, and the other. It's driving me crazy.

Health Update ~ Emotions

Walking into the endocrinologists office today, Henry and I were expecting to find out which parathyroid gland was flipping out and to hopefully schedule surgery to have it removed. While we did find out which gland is causing all these problems and where it is located (lower left), we could not be given a date for surgery because the endocrinologist managing my healthcare does not perform them.

Instead, I had to contact a separate office to schedule a surgical consult for June 1st. Which was the earliest I could be seen. So we still do not have a date for surgery and I have to wait an additional 24 days to even get to the point of scheduling one.

What Henry and I were NOT expecting was finding out that the 24-hour urine test and the newest set of labs, requested by the endocrinologist, have turned up yet another health issue: Hashimoto's Disease.

In the span of maybe ten minutes it was confirmed that I would need minimally invasive surgery to remove the screwed up parathyroid gland and that there was a chance I might have to have a second surgery, with a much larger scar, if the surgeon was not able to locate it on the first attempt. I also heard Hashimoto's disease and the need for an ultrasound (scheduled for Monday, May 11th).

My head was spinning and I essentially shut down. My brain was having great difficulty processing the information just given to us and there was absolutely no way I could handle any additional input at that time. When we finally left the endocrinologist's office the only thought roaming through my head was "I cannot possibly handle finding out about me having another serious health issue".

Our ride to a restaurant for lunch was pretty quiet because both of us are frustrated at a process that is moving too slow in solving these problems and yet, at the same time, we know there is nothing we can do to speed it up.

During the ride several thoughts occurred to me.

• I was wondering if having the VNS installed was a mistake and if all of my depression symptoms were related to my parathyroid and thyroid glands.
  I want to know if that one final piece of clarity needed in my brain -- essentially the last leg of the journey of Coming Into the Light -- will be solved by curing the hyperparathyroidism and treating the Hashimoto's Disease.
• I know exactly when the fog in my brain was lifted, where I was and what I was doing at the time. I know what that one moment of clarity looks like, feels like and tastes like because I've had it once before. Unfortunately, that sense of piece was very short-lived.It was March 2007. Henry and I were on a chairlift at our local snowboard area and vividly recall turning to him and saying "I feel good. My brain is clear, my thoughts are clear, everything seems so much brighter."

See, up to that moment I was living my life in shades of gray. The world around me was so dull and lifeless that when that moment hit me it was as though somebody had turned on a great big spotlight and pointed it directly at the world around me.

Two weeks later, at one of our most favorite snowboarding resorts, I fell and broke my elbow. Sitting here now, and looking back over the two years since then, I can say with almost absolute certainty that that is where I began falling apart all over again. Physically, mentally and emotionally.

Could it be that my fractured elbow two years ago was the beginning of the serious health issues I am experiencing now? Could it be that my broken nose in May 2008 accelerated the downward spiral and that my broken foot almost four months ago was the screaming and rattling wake-up call I needed to be a lot more attentive to my physical health?

Is my current depression, fatigue, memory problems, mood swings, sleep disturbances, irritability, and muscle aches attributable to something other than the lack of chemicals in my brain?

These are just a few of the many symptoms of hyperparathyroidism, hypercalcemia, and Hashimoto's Disease that I am experiencing and I've been blaming it on the chemical imbalance (BiPolar) in my brain.

I feel like a burden to my family. I feel as though I've let my husband down; something I seem to be inadvertently doing a lot of lately. I am sick and tired of being "sick and tired".

Right now I feel like death waiting to happen. Except if it comes, it won't be by my own hand. It will be by something I have absolutely no control over.

Isn't it ironic?

Health Update ~ Nuts and Bolts

To bring everyone up to speed I broke my left foot on January 25th. The ER doc called the fractures "funky" and referred me to a Podiatrist.

After 8 weeks of casts, and absolutely zero signs of healing, my foot doc scheduled surgery for March 19th to install a plate and six screws. I immediately went to my personal physician and asked her to do a complete blood work up -- which is how we discovered my parathyroid glands are master overachievers. Not only was my parathyroid hormone level through the roof but so was my blood calcium level.

Until today I have been dealing with three diagnoses: fractured foot, 'hyperparathyroidism' and 'hypercalcemia'. The only way to correct hyperparathyroidism is via surgery to remove the gland that is causing the hypercalcemia.

These two conditions -- Hyperparathyroidism and Hypercalcemia -- kind of go hand-in-hand; the former causing the latter. In my case, these conditions are severe enough to cause me to have either a heart attack or complete heart failure.

Last week I visited the Nuclear Medicine department where they performed several scans of my parathyroid glands. Today I learned the results of those scans from my endocrinologist and it appears that only one of the four glands is affected and a surgical consult has been scheduled for June 1st. Hopefully surgery will be scheduled shortly after that. So far I was hearing everything I expected to hear from the endocrinologist.

What I had not planned on was hearing that I may have to have two surgeries to remove the messed-up parathyroid gland. The first surgery will be "minimally invasive" (outpatient, local anesthetic, very small incision on my neck.) I also was not expecting the doc to tell me there was a high probability that they would have to do a second, invasive surgery (under general anesthesia, large incision), to remove it.

At that point I'm thinking, "WTF. Why not." Then it gets better.

The last set of blood work the endocrinologist ordered shows that my immune system is attacking my thyroid (not parathyroid - although named similarly, they have nothing to do with the functions of the other) -- a condition called Hashimoto's Disease (an autoimmune disease). What this means is my immune system is essentially eating my thyroid gland and will continue to do so until there is nothing left of it.

[Note: The thyroid helps set the rate of metabolism - the rate at which the body uses energy. Hashimoto’s Disease prevents the gland from producing enough thyroid hormones for the body to work correctly.]

Thankfully Hashimoto's Disease can be helped with synthetic thyroid hormone replacement therapy. An ultrasound of my thyroid gland has been scheduled for Monday, May 11th to determine its size.

In two years I have broken three bones (elbow, nose, foot) and, so far, have had two surgeries (nose and foot). Soon I will be having a third surgery.

Possibly a fourth.

Does it get any better than this? (That's a rhetorical question, by the way.)

Health Issues

We are going into month four of health issues and it appears we may have one of the four on the road to healing. The four health issues I am dealing with are:

• Hypercalcemia (caused by...)
• Hyperparathyroidism (preventing my...)
• Broken left foot from healing properly (which has, indirectly, caused injury to my...)
• Left elbow

This past Tuesday the foot doc gave me the nod for putting 50% of my weight on my left foot AND no more casts! It appears the plate and six screws holding my fifth metatarsal together are doing their job!

The hypercalcemia (too much blood calcium) has me a lot freaked out because the overabundance of blood calcium can cause a heart attack or the heart to fail altogether.

I feel like a partially mobile time-bomb...

Will the Healing Finally Begin?

I had surgery on my foot last Thursday, March 19th and it went well. The doctor inserted a plate and several screws.

Except for feeling like my cast is too small, and the throbbing and burning pain, I feel pretty good.

Let the healing begin...please?

Broken Foot Update

As of today it has been exactly thirty days since I broke my foot.

Within the first two weeks of the injury I had the pleasure of wearing three different casts. The first cast, a splint of sorts, was given to me by the emergency department until I was able to follow up with a specialist.

The second cast, bright red, was given to me by the specialist two days after I broke my foot. Five days later we had to cut the cast off because I somehow managed to not cover it properly for a shower and wound up soaking it.

The third, and so far final, cast (hot pink color) was a replacement for the soaked cast and I wore it for less than thirty minutes. When the cast was being applied I had to flex my foot and managed to hyperflex my toes as well. Once the cast dried I realized having my toes in that position for another three weeks was not possible because it was painful AND uncomfortable so I asked the doctor to cut it off.

Instead of applying another cast I was given a "CAM Boot" that is specifically made for metatarsal injuries AND I could go back to work because I was able to walk with it.

I managed to work for approximately two weeks when my next doctor appointment rolled around and my foot/ankle was x-rayed again. When the doctor slapped my x-rays up on the screen I knew instantly what he was going to say and my eyes started to well up with tears. The x-rays showed absolutely no healing and although I could continue wearing the boot, I was remanded to using crutches 100% of the time.

Which means I cannot work. Which means I have cabin-fever in the worst way and I'm tired of laying around. I can still drive (because I broke my left foot) and many stores have motorized wheelchairs, but it takes forever for me to get ready to even leave the house so I don't do it very often.

What most people don't realize is the enormous amount of energy it takes for your body to heal a broken bone, so a trip out of the house is exhausting.

...sigh...