So…. I made it home from California.  I cried in the plane going home.  I wanted to stay and escape everything.  The only thing that got me on that plane was the promise of a week at the beach a mere 7 days after my return – the opportunity to see both coasts in the same week.

Came home to a husband concerned about my state of mind.  We had some heart-to-heart talks and made promises to make changes.  And that was going to happen – just not how I planned.

I headed south to the beach with 2 kids.  For the 2nd year running I had a beach house for 16 with 3 people in it.  Ok – 4 when hubby came for 3 days of the week.  Fine – I made the most of more time contemplating all the great life-changing things I was going to do.

Life changed the morning I left.  I was up early, before coffee and the sun, to beat the traffic out of this heavily traveled resort area.  Woke the kids, had 99% of the car packed.  Shut off the last landing stairwell light.  One kid behind me – another in front, and I missed the last landing step.  Damned bifocals were exactly level with the edge of my view of the step and I assumed I had arrived at the landing.  I fell, my left foot and leg twisting under me, my head slamming into the wall.  Pain was instant and shocking.  Kids later said they had never seen me cry before that day.  Probably true.

5 minutes of writhing in pain later, I realized I had to make the 3 hour drive home alone.  There was no logic in having anyone come down to get me.  None in going to the local ER for treatment where my insurance would not cover anything.  So the kids bolstered me up, I hopped down the remaining steps.  They locked the beach house.  I drove so they could drop off the keys.  Then off we went, my leg locked in position while I drove first to drop off kid #1 then kid #2 then on to the ER where my limited insurance would provide superior care with the lowest possible out-of-pocket costs.

Called hubby en route.  He met me in the ER – having gotten a ride with a neighbor.  Diagnosis – badly broken ankle and knee.  Too damaged for surgery that day.  Sent home with some narcotics and a plan to see an orthopaedic surgeon on that Monday.  Saw him – he scheduled surgery for Thursday.  Had surgery – sent home same day (more about that later).  I’m now 3 1/2 weeks post op.  I’ve dealt with being totally unable to help myself do anything, including managing the bathroom (all of it) to dressing myself, to getting my own food and drink.  Doing better now with wheelchair, but still totally dependent on husband.  Apparently, this particular knee injury is devastating alone, let alone in conjunction with needing a 8in plate and 12 screws in your leg/ankle.  I’ll be non-weight bearing for 8-10 weeks and then will start learning how to walk on this puppy again.  Total rehab from what I can tell in the online forums is a shocking 4-22 months.  People still have pain and swelling for years afterwards.

How’s that for change?  At this point I’m sick of sitting.  But when I stand, the swelling takes over pretty quickly.  I’ve been back at work for about 2 1/2 weeks (no choice), and sitting all day without elevation is really no good.  Working on fixing that.

Net effect:  More change is coming.  Thinking of selling some of my stake in the company to free myself up and to put the business into a good position for my exit.  If I’m in for a long rehab, I still have a million things on my bucket list.   I’ll share notes from the plane ride back from California soon.