Memorial day weekend brought all kinds of fun for us. We got some fun surf.
Then as Bill was catching a wave a guy was paddling out right into the lineup, which is kind of not so great. Usually you try and paddle out next to the pier or off to the shoulder of the waves so you don’t get in anyones way and cause a collision. But sometimes things happen, and all the stars lined up for an epic FAIL on this day for Bill. He had to do a hard, tight cutback to avoid hitting the guy, and when he did his foot was in a bad position and he was in the peak of the wave where it was breaking so lots of power. Wave power, bad position, power exerted for the cutback all came together in the middle of his left foot and something had to give.
I saw it happen and made sure he popped up out of the water after he fell. I thought they had collided and I was worried about head injuries and fins cutting. The guy yelled to him “You okay” and Bill replied “Yes, I’m okay”. I saw him grab his board and climb back on it, so I went back to surfing. I kept looking around for him, but he never came back to the lineup with me. I assumed he lost a contact lens and paddled in to get another one. Or worse case scenario lost a fin on his board.
Little did I know he paddled in and this was happening on the beach:
He used his surfboard as a crutch and somehow made it back to the truck. After about 15-30 minutes, I started wondering where he was, so I paddled in to check on him. I found him lying in the front of the truck, his foot wrapped and propped on the seat. He was in terrible pain. I loaded up the truck and we took off for home.
After cleaning up and resting for a bit he decided he needed an X-ray, so off we went to urgent care, where it was confirmed that he had multiple fractures in his midfoot. When we climbed into the truck he said “I want beer”. I said “Tecate?” and he said “No, Dos Equis….this is MY pity party”. We drove to the bay and sat at the waterfront sipping cold beer.
Bill doesn’t drink, but when he does you can call him Wild Bill. He is hilarious, and I laughed myself into a headache. At one point he said “Let’s go to Walmart and get one of those electric carts. You can ride in the bitch seat like on a Harley”.
Yesterday we went to the ortho doctor who sent him to have CT done. It revealed 4 fractures in the Lisfranc complex. Yes, you read that right. 4. Thankfully the ligaments did not get damaged and there is stability in the arch, so he will not need surgery. Thank God.
Bummer is, it will be 6 weeks of no weight bearing, and 3-6 months of recovery. Which translates to no surfing for a very long time. Which translates into a very challenging summer for both he and I. Bill does not do inactivity very well. In fact, I will venture to say he does it quite crappy for the most part. Don’t get me wrong, he doesn’t complain at all. Nothing about the pain and discomfort even though I know it hurts bad. Buuuuut… He is pretty much in charge all the time, incredibly responsible and efficient and I…….am not. I am by my own admission a slacker. He often takes up my slack, so together we make it work.
It has been 3 days since he broke his foot, and I am about to get him those little conductor sticks so he can orchestrate our family properly, complete with broad sweeping gestures and such, from the comfort of his chair. And forget how he is in the passenger seat of the car. Oh my lawdy. My husband does not like being driven anywhere. He even refused to let me drive home him home from the beach the day he broke it. I am afraid this must speak volumes about mah mad driving skilz. Or maybe men have some control issues about large vehicles. Whatever it is, I drove him to his ortho appointment and it about killed us both. I am pretty sure he had to tell me how to drive about 10,364 times. Temper, tempeeeer, Jody.
With him restricted on movement, the bulk of the work is falling on me. He can’t do much for himself yet, so I am on duty for his part of the chores etc. Last night he asked for a glass of milk, for the 10,365th time (I never exaggerate). I stopped what I was doing and said “Tell me again why you can’t get one for yourself?” and he gestured to his crutches. So I said “Let’s do an experiment.” and I grabbed the crutches and a water bottle and crutched to the fridge. On crutches, I got out the ice, filled the bottle with it, put the ice bucket back into the fridge, filled the water bottle with water, then crutched with it into the bedroom, put it on my nightstand and came back in the den, walking with the crutches like stilts. Much debate went on about this “not being the same” and “your foot doesn’t hurt” yada yada. Even the kids joined in.
Today I am thankful for the fact that he will not need surgery. I am thankful that a surfboard did not hit him in the head. I am thankful that he can get up in the morning and go to his job and work. I am thankful that I am well enough after my ordeal to care for him now. Most importantly, I am so thankful for the very fact that he is here, alive, 8 years after being so ill (yes, can you believe it has been 8 years now?), for me to be annoyed by.
I will gladly climb back out of bed to lock all the doors because I take for granted that he does it and it needed to be done. I will try and keep my mouth shut when he tells me how to clean the boys bathroom, or that the dog needs water. At lunch today I will bring him his 10,366 glass of milk if he asks.
And I will remind myself how different my world would be if he were not there to ask me for it.