Home again

My dear kiddos,

I can safely say this was one of the crappiest weeks EVER! Bright and early Monday morning I went in for surgery. I was nervous after everything your dad went through with his ankle surgery last year. It was so awful to watch him have to be in so much pain. We were assured that everything would be fine. So, I put on my awesome gown and sexy non-slip sock and bravely got wheeled away. Last thing I remember is scooting on to the operating table and the nurse asking me where I was from. I'm sure when I said I grew up in Egypt she may have wanted to keep me awake longer to find out why.

I woke up to itching. I hate coming out of anesthetic but this one wasn't too bad because they had used a pain block in my leg. I knew that when the pain block wore off it would stink. It wears off really fast and if you aren't well medicated bad things happen, like what happened with Daddy. He hates medicine so when his pain block wore off he didn't have enough pain killers in his system. He body freaked out and tensed up every single muscle. His jaw locked up, his hands clenched up and his newly sewn Achilles Tendon was being torn apart. It was three horrible hours before they could get him back under control.

So, when stayed nice and drugged and when I started getting tingling in my foot I had the nurse top me off. Even still, the pain was horrible. (There is a reason hitting the bottom of people feet with sand filled hoses is a form of torture). I could feel where they had put a screw in my ankle and the stitches by my heel but the worst pain was up by my toes, where I nothing had happened that I was aware of. For the next 48 hours the pain went from bad to unbearable and back again. Poor Paxton could only sit by me an hold my hand. It seemed like this was way worse than they were expecting and I still couldn't figure out why the top of my foot hurt so badly. Then nurses said it was nerves misfiring and residual pain. The pain in my foot would start slow and then build up till I was bawling. Don't get me wrong, I am NOT a wimp. I made it through a natural child birth without shedding a tear. This pain was WAY worse than than and no one knew why. 

Wednesday it was our 12th anniversary and that afternoon we were told that we had to go home. I had had another horrible episode that morning and the thought of that happening at home terrified me but they didn't give us a choice. So we came home. It was good to see the kids but I was still pretty out of it. About two hours after we got home I felt another pain episode coming on and curled up on my bed to tough it out (like the hospital staff said I could do.) Twenty minutes into it Paxton found me nearly hysterical and this time I started shaking and couldn't stop. I vaguely remember him picking me up and carrying me past the kids and out to the car. I could hear little Jacob sobbing when we passed him. We got to the ER and they breezed me through checkin. I guess it upsets other people to have a broken girl in a wheel chair sobbing hysterically in the waiting room. 

The ER doctors gave me more IV pain killers and finally, though it still hurt, I was able to cope. They took me to a different floor (which I was grateful for since I didn't want to have to see all the people that had sent me home). There the most unusual nurse came to my rescue. He was a huge, hairy guy with lots of scruff and a pony tail. After it became obvious that I was not exactly comfortable and that it was the ball of my foot that hurt so badly he said, "well, why don't we open up your cast and see what's going on?" Such a simple thing had never occurred to me. He opened up the end of the cast by my toes and the relief was so instant that I finally fell asleep almost immediately. I slept for six hours. The longest I had in almost four days. When I woke up he and another nurse decided to open up the rest of the cast since my doctor was going to come in and put on a new one. They cut through more of the cast and I had to PRY my newly operated foot out. It was like finally being able to breath after thinking you were going to drown.The part of the cast around the ball of my foot had been smashed so tightly it had crushed the pad of my foot and three of my toes. The bottom of my foot was purple and looked like it had been hit with a hammer and I didn't have feeling in three of my toes. But I was so happy to NOT be in pain I hardly cared. I just wanted to get out of the hospital and go home. 

I've been home three days now and the pain has been minimal. I can't get up much or do anything but at least when I'm sitting I'm comfortable. I still don't have much feeling in those toes and my foot is getting a huge purple blister but I'm making progress. This morning I could stand up long enough to make myself a bowl of cereal! I won't be going much of anywhere for a while but for once, I'm so happy to stay home, I don't mind. I even decorated my cast so I have something pretty to look at while I'm down. You kids are being amazing and helping so much. I'm so very lucky. Today Shaylee arranged my pillows for me to take a nap. She spread out my blanket, kissed my head, gave me a pat and shut the door behind her. I realized that my daughter had just tucked me in. 

We still have a long way to go but the worst is over. And with my awesome little buddies and my amazing husband we will get through it. 

I also want to say some thing to Daddy. Paxton, this was a less than ideal way to spend our anniversary but  you showed you loved me in the most real way possible. You held my hair when I was throwing up, you fed me ice chips and kept me from hyperventilating, you rescued me when I was helpless and fought my battles for me when I gave up. You untangled my IV tubes and hunted down crackers for me in the middle of the night and helped me keep what little dignity I had left in my hospital gown. I have never doubted how much you loved me but your actions proved more than any expensive purchase could have. I love you more for what we made it through this week and once again I am reminded of how badly I need you. Thank you and I  love you seem rather inadequate but true none the less. I'm so glad you are mine forever. 

Loving you all,

Momma

Under the Knife-The Quigley medical saga continues...

After spending four weeks on crutches for what we thought was a stress fracture in my ankle, we finally got into the foot and ankle specialist two days ago. Good news: It isn't broken. Bad news: They are pretty much going to have to break it to fix it.

(Semi-boring back story) For years my ankle has been a little upset with me after I would run. The last year it would whine like a three yr old whenever I walked barefoot and the few months, it flat out yelled at me after I worked out. But I'm  Mom and busy taking care of everyone else so I'd limp around for a bit and then be fine. Till I changed my running workouts to include sprints. I got about three laps in and my ankle quit complaining and started screaming at me. I limped on it some more for a couple days and realized it wasn't going to get better so I sucked up my "I am invincible" pride and made an appointment. The family doc said it was most likely a stress fracture and told me to get a boot (unluckily we have had several to choose from, thank you Paxton and your torn Achilles tendon) and some crutches and stay off it till we could get into a specialist.

In the mean time Paxton had plans to attend a family reunion in Alaska (of all the inconvenient places) to go salmon fishing. I wish I was the wife that could let him go with a smile and give him wonderful moral support from the couch while he was out catching food to put on our table like a good husband should. BUT.... I was a little grouchy about being left with four kids and crutches. It didn't take long to remember that I DON'T sit well. Even my mom joked about getting me ADHD meds so I could actually sit down like I was supposed to. Figuring my sanity was at least as important as my physical well being. I decided there were much more entertaining places to sit than on my couch.

After the girls help in making my crutches appropriately stylish, we set out to party for what was left of the summer. Crutches didn't stop me, it just slowed me down. We still hit the beach, the aquarium, and the parade.

We managed to make it to Dart Zone (Nerf kid-combat teams) practice and gymnastics. We even fit in a few fun projects like making nerf dart blow guns. I also had to shoot my summer weddings on crutches but thanks to an amazing 10 yr old daughter that worked with me for 8 hours straight, I managed. 

Then last week I finally got in to the specialist who looked at my X-ray, took new X-rays and preformed a painful series of tests on my foot that could have possibly made Chuck Norris cry. Then let us know that there wasn't any stress fracture but that was about the ONLY thing not wrong with it. The first thing he pointed out was that the where my leg bones met my ankle bones, the bones should be round like a baby's bum, mine however were completely jagged and pointed like the Sawtooth mountains; bone spurs. Then he showed us that between the ankle bones (technically called a gutter) there was a whole bunch of what looked like gravel but that was in fact  bits of bone that had broken off the bone spurs and collected between the bones and that is what was causing most of the grating feeling and pain in my ankle. Finally he said that at sometime I must have damaged my ankle (varsity soccer and basket ball anyone?) The tendons in my foot were so lose that my leg bones had actually moved apart at my ankle and my ankle could move left to right when it should only move up and down. At least that is my understanding of what he explained minus several six syllable words. Bottom line: Surgery to grind down the bone spurs, clean out the loose bone fragments, add a screw to put my leg bones back into place, a "zip-tie" to put my ankle bones back in place and then cinch up the loose tendons. Then eight weeks in a cast, non-weight bearing. Perfect way to end the summer (insert raspberry here). I've decided that large game tranquilizer darts may be necessary to keep me down for eight weeks or maybe I'll finally learn to be patient. But probably not.

Because I can.

B

Avery survives till 7!

My Dearest Little Avery,

I have succeed. I had my doubts but somehow I have overcome all odds and kept you from seriously injuring yourself long enough to turn seven. Despite falling off a tree branch into a creek, trying to walk across our fence, climbing 15 feet up a tree to see baby birds, spending half of your life upside down doing handsprings and handstands, climbing a 18 ft rope to the VERY top with no help, almost falling off a sailboat into Puget Sound and your daily episodes of random craziness I have made it to your SEVENTH BIRTHDAY! I'm excited to find out what adventures we will have before you turn eight. Love you, love you, love you.

~Mom

Dart Zone!!!

Thought my blogger account had freaked out but then found out it was my computer. Playing catch up from the summer! Quote of the week from Bryce: "I believe that I have my Dad's DNA because we both dislike shopping, except for manly stuff like at Cabelas."