"Let us prove them now herewith."

It's been a ridiculously busy 2 months, which is why I haven't posted in so long. But since now I'm being bombarded with messages about my recent dip into acrobatics, I decided a blogpost would be the best way to share what happened and then those who care can get all the info they want, straight from me. It's been like a bad but very entertaining game of 'Telephone' hearing all the stories that people have heard. So without further adieu:

I got home Wednesday morning from my trip to Idaho. I WAS SUPER TIRED. Unpacked a bit, took a 4hr nap, and went to bed around 11pm. I had my alarm set for 10:30am, but when it went off I was still too tired to move, so I slept until noon. I don’t even remember the last time I slept that many hours in 3 nights let alone in 1. I knew that once March was over my body was going to collapse for a few days, but I had been banking on my time in Idaho being a good place to recoup. Although that trip is a post for another day, let's just say that it wasn't the relaxing vacation I'd been expecting. So I just figured that my body was playing catch up for all the sleep I'd been missing throughout March on top of my jet lag.

Anyway, about 1:30 pm I ate some food. Eggs and hot chocolate, since I hadn't gotten groceries yet. But I was still feeling much too tired to do anything, so I decided I’d just relax and not worry about being ‘productive’. So I watched some West Wing. While I was watching I would have waves of lightheadedness and dizziness come over me, but I just thought it was the jet lag/exhaustion... and who knows, maybe it was?

At about 5:30 I decided I had been as lazy as I could stand and needed to take a shower. So I got my stuff together and headed downstairs to the bathroom with my towels in hand. I got really dizzy and slipped on the stairs. But it felt like someone shoved me down really hard so I just landed directly on one step, then slid one or two more. Not sure which guardian angel I had helping me not tumble all the way down, but I’m REALLY grateful I didn’t. A broken tailbone is an uncomfortable yet very small price to pay for a whole neck. :)

Well, I was in a LOT of pain from falling on the stairs and I started seeing stars so I got to the kitchen and leaned against the counter for a couple minutes catching my breath and trying to breathe through the pain. That’s when I got really nauseous and realized I might pass out so I thought I should sit down. I should’ve sat down on the kitchen floor but I thought I should get in the shower because the hot water might help with the pain. So I decided to head into the bathroom.

I made it about 2-3 steps and blacked out in the doorway of the bathroom. I kinda came to as I was hitting the floor, and it felt like someone had pulled me down. It was pretty miraculous that I fell in the only position I could've without hitting my head. All I remember is a searing pain shooting up my left leg and thinking that something was wrong bc I was SO dizzy and couldn’t quite pull myself together. I managed to yell for Sarah (my housemate), and good thing that she was home. I have no idea what I would’ve done without her!

I couldn’t stand, which I was too dizzy to do anyway, so I crawled to the couch in the living room, a couple feet away from me. It was a lot harder than I thought it’d be. I thought I may have dislocated my ankle bc it really felt like it needed to pop and my knee felt jarred pretty good. Sarah wasn't sure what to do, nor was I. I still couldn't focus or think clearly. The only thing I could think was "Call the Woolseys." So I had Sarah call Elder and Sister Woolsey, who are the missionary couple serving with the Young Single Adults at church. They were on their way back from Wales, but they called a member of the ward who is a doctor. He and his son came a while later to give me a blessing, and then he looked at my foot. He thought I may have broken one of my metatarsals because I had an unusual hard bump on it. 

So he convinced me to go to the emergency room, and he dropped me and sarah off there around 7:30. After about 4 hrs and lots of tests and X-rays, the dr came in and said I had a spiral fracture to my fibula and that my tibia and fibula had both shifted over the ankle joint. So after a couple more hours, the orthopedic dr came in and said I’d have to have surgery to reset the joint and put a metal plate in to set the fracture. So I sent Sarah and the Woolseys (who had shown up a few hours before) home and I was whisked away to Ward 410 where they kept me for the next 4 days.

I had surgery Friday morning, which was pretty miraculous for them to have an opening so soon. I had 3 roommates... average age of about 90, all who had fallen and broken their hips. It seemed a bit ironic that I was put into the ward with all the elderly people... haha I got a good kick out of that. I did not, however, enjoy the snoring, the sleep talking, the hearing aid singing melodies that were supposed to be my bedtime lullabies. So I’m VERY grateful to be home!

Sarah set up a nice little sick bay in our living room for me before she left for home this weekend. I had to miss the final Lamb of God rehearsal, but I'm going to the performances this next weekend come hell or high-water. I refuse to let this little bump in the road derail all my plans. I reject all pity parties and anyone trying to feel sorry for me. It's a broken leg. I'm aware how lucky I am that it's *just* a broken leg, too. So while empathy, visits, and even gifts are welcome (wink, wink, nudge, nudge), the phrase "Poor Dana" will get you kicked out of Poole House. Deal? Ok. Glad we got that cleared up.

Call it stubbornness, willpower, sheer grit or whatever you want. But I'm looking at it as a gift of the Spirit, faith, grace, confidence, humble pride. It is the only thing helping me maintain any semblance of my sanity. I am completely confident that I can handle this, because I know if I couldn't Heavenly Father would've spared me. And honestly, since I'm living my dream life, I feel like a broken leg is a relatively small challenge that warrants zero complaining. I've had a pretty smooth ride the last few months, so it was probably time God gave me a challenge. So Bring It On. Come What May and LOVE IT. 

So if you ever hear me complaining, just remind me that I can do hard things. Because I know I can. And I can certainly do this one. I'm still working out all the details of how to move forward with school, dissertation, and regular life, but that will take some time. There are going to be some hard moments and maybe even some hard days over the next few months of recovery. It will be frustrating, humbling, refining, uplifting-- But never impossible.

I just might need you to remind me of that sometimes.