“uncle” or whatever the hell the universe wants to hear

I’ve navigated some shit without too much self-pity, right? I mean, since this time last year, we’ve lost a baby we mothered through his first month of life, my father, our beloved boy-cat, and Love Child, and I was decently gracious about the whole thing. I found bright sides. I felt gratitude. I am not one to wallow.

But I broke bone(s) in my foot yesterday, and that is it. The straw. I have been launched firmly into a bog of self-pity, and though I don’t enjoy the view, I’m not sure how to get out.

I fell carrying Bram down the stairs, and so as to keep him safe, I sort of closed my body around his and landed in a crumpled heap on my foot at the bottom. The pain was searing. I screamed. I scared our son, but I couldn’t not scream. They confirmed a Lisfranc fracture at the ER last night. I’ll know more after an ortho visit this week.

What I already know is that it’s not the walk.on.it kind of break. It’s the crutches, cast, going up stairs backwards like a crab kind. It’s the hope the ortho gets me in quickly and doesn’t suggest surgery kind. And that, it feels right now, is the rest of my summer. No long family walks. No wearing the boy through the crowd at the farmers market. No trips to Chicago, no taking Bram on his bike up and down our street by myself, or to the playground, or to the library, even, because how will I get him out of the car and into the kid’s room on crutches? No even carrying my son upstairs, or downstairs, or out to the car. No daily dance parties. No going down the basement stairs, which leaves my wife to do all of the laundry (along with everything else). I don’t even know how to safely be alone with B. I missed a party with my family today. J took B. He rode a golf cart, which was, of course, amazing. I wallowed.

Because instead of reveling in the laid back sweetness of summer, there’s this hot thing on my leg suffocating me. It’s a boot now, but it will be a cast, and I feel extreme panic at the idea of having something on there that I can’t take off. Extreme panic. Seriously. And the boot upsets B, as do the crutches, so that he’s keeping some distance from me. Which is pretty much crushing my very soul. My very soul.

I feel robbed. I keep thinking that all of the mistakes of my twenties must have brought this unlucky streak about because, I mean, come on already! And I get that people have it worse. I mean, when you live in a world where there was a Holocaust, there’s always room for perspective. And I get that we have each other. And Bramble. And an incredible support system (though one stops feeling like one can ask for help by the fifth family crisis of the year. It gets ridiculous.). I know it’s probably just six to eight weeks, and that we’ll get through it.

But fuck. I am fucking sick of having to get through things.

I wait for July and August all year long. For J’s downtime at work. And now I feel trapped, and in pain (because I won’t take the pain meds because I refuse to be any more useless to our boy than I already am), and more frustrated than I ever remember being. So okay already, universe. What can I do to make you lay the fuck off?







10 thoughts on ““uncle” or whatever the hell the universe wants to hear

  1. I feel absolutely angsty in my heart for you after reading this post. It sucks. All of it. Yes, you will be fine because you are strong and brave and all of that. But none of that matters in this moment. In this moment it just all sucks and I am so so sorry.

    And also…should you still want to make that trip to Chicago, I happily volunteer to carry around your child. Plus, my wife knows a broken foot very well and we would be happy to get you around town on the one good foot :)

  2. R, I just want to cry for you. I command you to let us do something to help! Also, take your pain meds at least some of the time. At night, or if J is going to be out with the boy for a while. You body needs the release from the pain in order to concentrate its energy on healing. This is just crummy, awful bullshit and I’m mad and sad about it.

  3. Oh man, I’m so sorry! This just plain sucks! I was running to some pop song today, and the refrain ‘it’s always darkest before the dawn’ stuck in my head. Not sure it’s consolation, but….sending light your way!

  4. Oh, sweet friend. This makes me wish I was still living close by. So instead, I’ll send a much more meager hug across the internet. (( )) I also second the pain meds–if your pain is somewhat under control, you’ll heal faster. Especially at night, or if J is out with Bram. Again, I am so sorry, and I hope you heal quickly to enjoy a bit of summer with your sweet family.

  5. Having a broken lower limb/extremity/etc. is the most frustrating thing. I’m so glad you were able to protect him when you fell but terribly sad that this was the result. Especially during summer! Think about looking into a Roll-a-bout – it would let you scoot on family walks (on pavement) and for short bike rides etc although you wouldn’t likely be able to hold Bram at the same time. I sported a cast off and on for the better part of a year and a half and that thing saved my life. It’s worth the fee and they ship it to you with a box to ship it back. Just a thought to save you from constantly crutching!

  6. Dear friend, I am so sorry. You and your lovely family deserve better than this. I’m sure you will still have a wonderful summer together, even if it is a little different than you originally planned.
    P.S. I second the suggestion to take at least a mild pain medication. I know you want to be present for B, but if you are focussed on the pain, that’s going to be hard too.

  7. Ugh. I’m so sorry. That just sucks in all of the ways you articulated, and then some. I hope you are feeling better soon! I also hope that you get more mobility and less pain than you are in at the moment. I can heartily recommend those wrap-around ice pack boot things–lifesavers, especially when it’s hot and your foot hurts and everything sucks (I had surgery on both feet once and they are what kept me sane). I second the baby-carrying offer if you do decide to come to Chicago!

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