On Being Blessed by a Broken Fibula

I've known for a while that I live in the best house at Romero House. The past few days have solidified the proof. On Saturday evening on my way to grab some food at Wanda, I put on flip-flops because it was raining, and I love walking in flipflops in the rain... If only I had gotten that far...

Somehow I slipped on the steps going down my front porch, and caught one foots flipflop with my other foot, and stretched and spun my right ankle in all sorts of painful directions. After a brief string of expletives, I threw my books and movie (that I had been carrying) onto the porch, and slowly crawled up the stairs. I hobbled to the door and rang it until one of my neighbor-friend-ladies answered it, and helped me in. The two friends from the first floor ran around, found me ice, tylenol, and entertained me with stories of their sprained ankles and backs for a couple hours.

Intern Thomas came a while later and looked at my injury. We decided together that it was probably just a sprain, and it wasn't worth the wait at the ER.

My ankle swelled bigger and bigger, and we watched cheesy W-channel movies. That night, Thomas and I hobbled up the stairs. He held my leg up in the air, and I clung to the banister with one hand and his back with my other, and I hopped. boy did I hop. I hopped up two flights of stairs into my bed, and slept soundly until the morning. The next day I read in bed, ate delicious cereal, and then was brought breakfast in bed: potato pancake, and toast/ham/egg sandwich.

Basically, I've spent my time with my leg elevated on pillows, reading good books, and eating good food that all these different people have brought me. My leg doesn't really hurt, unless I try to put weight on it, and I hop real good now.

I'm so blessed by all these wonderful people in my community. What more could I want?

I went to the ER this morning, driven by my roommate, and hung out there a couple hours waiting for xrays to be ordered/taken. Then, I took my crutches and made my way sweating to the other wing of the hospital, up the elevator, to meet my newest housemate: CAROLINA!!! she was born while I was sitting in the "fast-track" waiting room, at 11:24am today, weighing 2,8 kilograms, around 6 lbs.

I went back downstairs, talked to my lovely med school student who told me, yes, indeed, I had a broken fibula, and she took me over to the "fracture clinic" where I waited 45 minutes, and then asked how much longer, and was told 3-4 hours, to which I said "dang.", then the nice lady offered me a 7am appointment the next morning, telling me to come at 6:30, and then I'll be seen right away.

So, now I'm chilling at home, eating the delicious salami sandwich, amazing chicken/hominy Mexican soup, and hearty beef/noodle Slovakian soup, and chamomile tea made by someone else, and my director just called to see if she could bring anything over for me.

life is good.

in mj's words: what more can my jesus do for me today? lol