Sunday, June 28, 2009

So, There Was This Tree...

(I'm typing this as my dog is sleeping on my right foot, dreaming, twitching, and barking in his sleep.)

So, there was this tree. And it needed pruning. Not a very big tree, really. But apparently big enough.

And I have some killer branch chompers. So I got into the tree. And well, kinda got out of the tree. Abruptly. And since I'd already done some definite damage to the tree before gravity nudged me onto the ground, I landed somewhat tangled in some branches.

While flat on the ground, staring at the tree that ousted me and doing the mandatory self-assessment that usually follows such a test of gravity, @ walks over and looks down at me, very seriously.

@: Mama, get up. We still have work to do.
Me: Why don't we go inside and watch TV for awhile.
@: No Mama, we're not done working.
Me: Well, I need a little break to ice my leg.
@: Well OK, but we're not finished working.

Junior Taskmaster, at your service.

I had a pretty good bruise on my foot and figured I'd sprained my ankle. (Yes, in fact, I did conveniently extend the definition of ankle for this self-diagnosis. Why do you ask?)

When the "sprain" was still rather uncomfortable after three weeks, I relented and called up my podiatrist (who really oughta be on speed dial by now).

Surfer Doc: What did you do?

Me: Fell out of a tree.
Surfer Doc: No really.
Me: Yep.
Surfer Doc: Some people hire gardeners.
Me: Yep.
Surfer Doc: When did you do it?
Me: You don't want to know...
Surfer Doc: You're never going to learn, are you?
Me: Probably not.

So, x-rays taken, he gets his nifty ruler and measures the film. Then measures my leg and proves, beyond doubt, that yep -- three inches above my ankle -- that's the spot. On my left leg. Then he shows me the fracture on the film. And yes, I laugh rather hysterically. Because by now, it's funny.

My oft-therapied, scarred, and screwed left leg is now back in the lovely massive velcro boot contraption that I'm smart enough not to throw away.

A year ago this week -- I had surgery to repair my achilles tendon, on my left leg. Two years before that, surgery to remove a broken bone and fuse my big toe with a two-inch titanium screw -- on my left leg. A few years before that, a couple of other foot surgeries and a knee surgery. ALL ON MY FREAKIN' LEFT LEG.

The last thing I wanted to do was admit that the sprain was yet another bit of damage to this dang thing. Alas. So I had to call my dad to let him know I wouldn't be able to help much with work on the weekend of the fourth.

LD: Now what did you do?
Me: Well, there was this tree...

Thursday, June 25, 2009

The Club

I belong to a very exclusive club. It's club no one ever wants to join. I'm part of an an online group for parents who have lost infants.

I met a woman named Lisa through e-mail yesterday. She recently had preemie twins and her beautiful little girl passed away. I wrote this right before @ and N's second birthday.

For Nobie

In my mind, you are six years old
Though if you were here, you would be only two
I see you every day in my heart
You are in a meadow, at a fence
And you are happy
And you are beautiful

I probably picture you as six
Because I think you would be safe
That you would be happy
That you would be past the pain
And you would understand
That we are not with you, but you are part of us

I imagine that my uncle guides you
He shows you how to watch us
And answers your every question
Though there is no one to answer mine
He teaches you and shows you how to find us
To watch us, to know us from afar

You are connected
To everyone I’ve loved
And you are connected, to me

I can’t call it heaven
Because I don’t know what heaven is
But I know you are safe and loved
And never alone
—October 2005