Uncle!

OK, OK, I get it. I will try to stay off of my feet today (well, mostly). I am apparently a hazard to my own health.

On Thursday I was cleaning out Darren's closet. One minute I was standing on a chair putting things up on the top shelf, then as I was climbing down I somehow smacked my knee really hard. I heard a crack! and I had pain shooting through my right knee. It hurt like crazy, but after a bit I was fine as long as I didn't bend it at all. I was able to stand and play for my two hour handbell rehearsal that night. After it was over my director, who has been a nurse for more than 20 years, took a look at my knee. By that time it was all sorts of beautiful colors and very swollen, and I couldn't bend it at all without a great deal of pain. She said it looked like I had cracked my patella and I needed to go home, take some ibuprofen (I didn't want to take anything stronger since I'm nursing), and ice it for a while. I guess there's not a lot that can be done for a busted knee unless I actually snapped it in half (which I didn't), at which point it would have to be wired back together. Fun. I'm watching it, but I'm hoping to not have to get an X-ray. With pneumonia, RSV, and swallowing marbles, we've had to go in to the hospital four different times for X-rays during the past two months and I'd really rather not have to pay for another one. Yuck.

I was surprised on Friday morning that my knee actually felt a little better. It's still swollen and very bruised, but with ibuprofen it's been bearable. I was determined to have a productive day, so the girls helped me cut up and mash enough strawberries for three batches of jam (1 lb. of strawberries are only $0.88 right now at Sunflower!), and I made a triple batch of freezer meatballs (hamburger was also on sale there). I was doing all right as long as I stayed standing, until I dropped a stack of three Pyrex glass dishes on my right foot, right on the lower joint of my big toe, that is.

I don't think I broke anything, but now my foot is swollen and even more colorful than my knee, and it was no longer comfortable to remain standing. Sitting still hurt with my knee, though. It happened not too long before Kenny got home. He took over everything and sent me to bed to put my leg and foot up with some more ice, while he got the girls settled outside with bikes and helmets, took care of the last batch of freezer meatballs coming out of the oven, fed Darren, and even mixed up some dough to rise and grated cheese and sliced tomatoes for homemade pizza. Do I have an amazing husband or what?

I wish that was the end of my self-destructive behavior, but last night I hobbled into the kitchen for a glass of water and on the way back to our bedroom through the dark house I stubbed my pinkie toe, again on my right foot, on the baby gate that was leaning against the doorframe in the hallway. At that point I just had to laugh (and cry a little, 'cause boy did my foot hurt) and admit defeat.

I think I'll be staying off my feet today. For their own protection.