Or so I’m told.
About a month ago, I fell through my sisters porch. I’ve already told you that. What you don’t know is that I did need surgery. On top of the dislocation that the hospital was able to fix, I needed plates and screws to fix the broken bones. The plate went on my fibula along with a couple screws, a screw went in the chip on my tibia, and a screw went in the topmost bone in my ankle. I was under for a couple hours.
I think I took all this very well considering how much of a doctor-phobe I am. I mean, I don’t even get flu shots.
I’ve knocked a lot of things off my “Not” bucket list. A lot of things that I hoped I’d never have to. On the other side, I can now double Reapers because I can truthfully write about having surgery.
I’m still in a cast, but the incisions have finally healed up enough that it’s not too uncomfortable. I’ve left my house a grand total of five times since November 19, four of which were doctor visits. This means I haven’t worked since then either. My introversion rejoices at that, but it also means it’s going to be a pain when I have to start talking to people again.
That being said, if any of you would like to ask me a couple questions about surgery or being put under, I’d try to answer as best I could. Drop me a line if you want.
Life put me into a full stop. What’s it done to you lately?