Donate Now!

Donate Now!
Buy a membership or koozies to help!

Saturday, November 05, 2011

Perils of 'steadin'

This is embarrassing. It happened last week, and I still have yet to tell you about it.  Which is surprising as I tell you just about everything. I have told you about being electrocuted by water, pickle jar attempted murder, dead turkey attacks, and various other "only to you" painful situations.

I have a hair line fracture in my right foot. Yet that isn't as painful as the tissue damage. But I should start at the beginning of my day.

It was one of our pleasant days last week. I had Uma, Mamma, and X separated from the rest of the herd. Pastor Mike paid extra money to fatten X up on corn feed.  It was early morning, even the few range chickens that have began roosting on the back steps were still sleeping. I hefted up the 50lbs bag of corn over my shoulder and headed out the back door. I shooed the chickens away and started down the steps.

Maybe it was the chicken poop, maybe I just miss stepped, however it began, I am well aware of how it ended. On my face in the mulch scattered about the ground.

I somersaulted on the same step apparently numerous times.  I hear you askin, But Phelan how would you know this if you were busy spinning? I will tell you my friend, because I have a hole in the front side of my ankle, a hole higher up on my shin, and yet another in the palm of my hand. I had discovered that there was a head of a nail sticking up on the third step.

The feed went flying and I managed to chase after it. Doing a magnificent slide into base, apparently attempting to catch the feed bag. Oh it was all a blur. I laid there for a moment, until Large asked if I was ok. Why oh why did he have to ask. I heard his voice and tears immediately sprang to my eyes. I told him to get Husband who was in the front of the house working on the special project of his (the one that is looking like an above ground bunker) Of course they took their sweet time.

I went to get up, still crying mind you. And discovered that my ankle at that moment wasn't going to hold my weight, and I crash back to the ground. More out of the surprise of the pain, then the pain itself. As Husband and Large took time to discuss how they were going to approach coming out back to see if I needed any help, I managed to stand back up and and feel out the foot. And after a few moments I was able to walk, with a limp, and picked up the feed bag. Of course I was livid by the time Husband decided it was safe enough to come to my aid. ggrrrr. . . This is one moment that emotional distress seems to out weight the physical hurt. And it's not like my lips can get any bigger to look all pouty, I always look pouty, but I think I managed to pull it off, then get the eff off look.

Alas, this is not when I broke my foot. This was just the start of the most wonderful day of my life. (Yes, I am listening to System of a Down)

My ankle felt better and the scabs formed as the day moved forward. Lots of work to do. Husband had me climbing the above ground bunker jungle gym, my shoulders screaming because of past injuries and a cold front was pushing down on us. There were a few precarious times that afternoon. Times that one was forced to ask if I was ok. I had suddenly reverted to the clumsy tween, just growing into the size of her feet.

I managed to make it to dark without a visit to the ER. I was thankful that my elephantine day was now over. I could make a safe dinner, cuddle up to watch a movie with Husband, and drift into a peaceful non maladroit sleep.

Dinner was not elegant.

I managed to drop a cast iron griddle on my foot.

First a quick dance, next sailors blushed, then my brain said to go into the bathroom to wash the enormous amount of blood that was gearing up to spew from my foot.

From what I could glean as I limped with curse words on my lips and tears in my eyes, no one knew what happened. Only that I was dancing violently, and screaming some death metal lyrics. As if I had a moment from a Broadway musical and broke out into song during a mundane moment in life. Oh but this was not the case. I think I heard Husband asking after me. But my brain screamed cold water, so he was pushed back in my hearing.

I turned the cold water on, my foot quickly under it. No blood. Now this was surprising after the fact. I didn't care at the moment, but thinking back one would suspect blood when a heavy cast iron griddle falls onto your foot. Something should have been cut open.  All I saw was a purple foot, already swollen.

And here my friends comes where Husband is a jerk, and threats of divorce are issued.

Husband made me sit down, and he placed my foot in his lap and put a bag of ice on it. I so preferred the swelling to the ice. It took three refills of ice and a couple hours before the swelling went down. Husband did his doctoring and determined that there was a hairline fracture. He informed me that wasn't what was causing all the pain. It was the severe soft tissue damage that was the culprit. He told me that a break is preferable to the tissue damage. It doesn't hurt as long. And I will agree with that. When I broke my arm, it only hurt for a day, but this has been hurting for a week.

The next day, it did feel a bit better, but I limped until the foot turned a nasty black color. Now it only hurts if a turn it wrong, or when I put my boots on. I have been wearing house slipper to do my chores.


Mamma Bear said...

Oh Phelan... I know it is not funny and I sympathize with your injuries but your writing of the event is hilarious. Such things tend to happen to me.... I call it barnyard ballet. We can hop on one foot, swing one arm for balance and still carry a 50 pound bag of feed on our shoulder.

Warlock Sundance said...

I could barely find the keyboard through the tears....laughing. Oh hell no,,,,not at ya.....with ya.
Someday I should tell ya about the time I was making a sharp left turn on my FLH and for some reason decided to put my foot down on the road.

Riding a "bagger" home having to reach down and hand shift without using clutch is no fun at all. Foot swollen up to the size of Kentucky.

Got home and could not put pressure on the I just let the bike lay over on the crash bars. My son decided within the hour to take me to the ER. Hyper-extended foot (backwards), torn ligaments. etc...yeah, soft issue damage to the hilt.

Out of work for several months recovering.

All the brothers who stopped my during that time would without fail...grab that damn foot and ask me how I was feeling.

(Mamma Bear...."barnyard ballet" that one killed me!)

Phelan said...

Barnyard Ballet, I like it :D

Sundace, ouch! And I know all about the grab the painful thing and ask if they are ok. I think they are just jealous and wish to have the same pain inflected on them.

Judy T said...

OUCH! I'm feeling sympathy pain for you!
I do like the concept of barnyard ballet. We've been doing construction ballet as well!
Heal fast!!

Stephen said...


Anonymous said...

Oh no... I hope your pain goes away quickly, and that you can bash hubby with same-said cast iron pan to help him realize when you send a child to get help, that doesn't mean wander back sllllooowwwwllly! And I love "Barnyard Ballet", Momma Bear!

kymber said...

you poor duck! but i bet it was funny! and i am not laughing at you...really...i'm not - bahahahahaha!

your friend,

small farm girl said...

I'm not laughing at you. I know if I do, I will be the next one to break my foot....again. So sit back and play the wounded foot card for a bit. You deserve a rest. lol

Phelan said...

of course none of you are laughing at me, that would be mean :D

Anonymous said...

not a good day..but it could have been could have happened to me! jk

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...