Now that enough time has passed, I can look back on my recovery and laugh at some of the events I have been through since my car accident.  For me, the pain has generally subsided and I am left with the pleasant, if not downright funny, memories.

I do not have an addictive personality and typically, when the doctor or dentist prescribe pain meds for me, I may take one or two tablets and then, what is left in the bottle sits until it expires.  This time was different. I was grateful for the C-2 meds.  The controlled substances. No over the counter meds this time.  I became a clock watcher and was relieved when it was time for me to take my next pill.  I make no apologies for it.  I had a shattered knee held together by wire and screws.  I had an ankle broken in multiple places, a chest that had taken a hit from the seatbelt and the airbag, two black eyes thanks also to the airbag and a thumb that turned black although I can't remember how I hurt it. I was a mess!

Between the initial knee surgery and the follow-up visit to the doctor, my parents came and stayed with me. I was instructed not to put any weight on my right leg, which was immobilized by a brace, for fear I might undo the surgeon's efforts to save my knee. I found I was not very steady with crutches so I opted to hop on my left leg while balancing with a walker. This meant I had to plan ahead to move from one location to the other, identifying the shortest route and avoiding any obstacles. 

Since everyone was waiting on me, I had little need to move from my sofa. I just needed to give myself plenty of travel time to get to the bathroom. As I made my way across the room I would place the walker a step in front and then take a hop on the good leg, swinging the injuried leg foward.  Clickety, hop, swing. Clickety, hop, swing. I was in the groove. And then it happened. I became over confident and was going too fast.  As I was swinging the right leg, the forward momentum took over. The brace hit the bar across the front of the walker, right across the knee. Ouch!

I immediately started a series of little left-legged hops to regain my balance but it was no use. Backward I went, landing flat on my back, sprawled across my living room. Hop-hop-hop- oh no! Oh no! Whack! My parents were immediately at at my side, horrified that I had fallen and concerned that I had injured myself further. At that point it was only my dignity that was suffering.

We soon realized that due to the immobility of the straight leg brace that went almost to my hip, I could not get any traction to get back up. We tried a series of manuevers but I then realized I needed to be raised straight up from floor to standing in one motion.  There was no way I wanted my parents to hurt themselves by lifting my deadweight off the floor!  I needed them to be in tip-top shape to care for me over the next few weeks and I could just imagine my dad ending up in traction, throwing out his back.  I had no choice.  I called 9-1-1. "I've fallen and I can't get up."

Fortunately, I only had to lay on the floor for a few moments trying to make light of the situation, entertaining my parents with my audition for the next Medic Alert commercial. When the paramedics arrived it took seconds for them to get me back on my foot and then seated on the couch.  The paperwork took much longer. But, I soon realized - I never had made it to the bathroom.

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