Get Off my Feet, Bella!

Let me introduce you to Bella. She is my 4 year old long haired domestic cat. She came to us when she was just over 5 weeks old. And she has been living in the house ever since. She's never been outside but she spends most of her days and occasional nights sitting in our big front window watching the birds. She is a lap cat and most of the time tries to solicit a pet or two from my two girls. They are almost always annoyed with her. I felt sorry for her early on because our male cat, Rigby, the jokester of the house is always galloping and chasing his tail or doing some funny or odd thing that warrants a photograph. The cats remind me of the Garfield and Oatie cartoons. Bella, playing the role of Garfield, the smart stuck up cat watching the silly jumping around dog, Oatie, who is played by Rigby. She will watch from a door of a room while Rigby runs at full speed down the hall once again for no reason whatsoever. Bella, forever donning a look of utter disgust at his incompetence.

The truly amazing thing about Bella is her keen sense of others discomforts. Alayna (my 5 year old) went through a period of night terrors when she was three and four years old and Bella would prop herself every night at the bottom of Alayna's bed . When Bella was sleeping with Alayna the night terrors ceased. I was amazed at the effect Bella had. From the first day I came home from the hospital Bella positioned herself at the bottom of my hospital bed. Any chance she got she would crawl up and put her front two paws on my bad leg. She never ever chose to lay on my good leg. I thought this was so odd. She knew which one hurt. It is now going on 6 weeks since my surgery and she follows me from room to room ever so careful not to get under my walker legs. When I finally get well and go back to work she is going to go through withdrawal from nurturing me back to health.

I have to say that without the constant companionship of my cat during this time Im not sure I could've done as well as I have. When no one is around I talk to her. I tell her all about the books I'm reading, the tv shows I'm watching, or just any old thing that comes across my mind. She has become my guardian angel in a black fuzzy costume. If you drive past my house be sure to look up in the window and wave to Bella. She is sure to be sitting there pretending to watch the birds but secretly she has her eyes and ears open in case I need her. And I am forever grateful.

Bob Drives Too Damn Fast!

We are headed down Interstate 79 to my first post operative doctors appointment. Up until this point I had been looking so forward to this appointment. I got to get out of my house and see the outside world after 13 days. I donned on my "doctors appointment outfit", curled my hair, put on make-up and made sure all my crevices were clean. After all you never know when the doctors wants to look at a crevice or two right? But now I regret the choice of driver taking me to this appointment. At this moment my stomach is doing flip flops and my body is jumping up and down in the front seat. We are in the farthest lane to the left on the interstate passing every person we possibly can because Bob thinks we aren't going to get there on time. All that I can do is hold on to the "oh Shit" bar on my side of the car and hold my breath. My leg is dangling and jerking with every movement of the steering wheel. Each mile closer I wonder if I'm going to make it there without wearing my breakfast. Bob is oblivious to the extent of my sick stomach. He tells me to "go to sleep" until we get there and stop thinking about it so much. I considered trying my luck at getting into the backseat so that I could put my broken leg up onto the seat to feel more like I was in control of my surroundings. I decide against this idea considering my bum would have to make it over the seat while cruising along at 70 MPH on the interstate. Even without a broken leg I don't think I could pull it off. Instead I do the only thing I could do in this situation and that was say prayer after prayer. What could possibly happen after all- I would vomit in the car and all over myself. But that could mean I would not end up at my destination and I wouldn't get my sutures out today. And I need those out. I definitely do not want to come back down here another day with the same circumstances. We pull up the ramp off interstate 279 to the North Side of Pittsburgh and I sigh with anticipation. Only 10 more minutes until I can visit the bathroom. The office building is in site-on Federal Street in Pittsburgh-only 2 more minutes. Bob pulls up to the door of the building and comes around to my side with a wheelchair and the look of sheer perseverance to wheel me into the building before he parks. The parking garage is across the street and looking very full in the mid morning hour and I was secretly glad I didn't have to see it from the inside. He parked me inside the door facing out. I do a 360 scan of the first floor laid out behind me-no restroom signs-no doors leading to a toilet in view. Sweat dripped off my brow and panic was starting to set in. I'm not sure how much longer I can wait to toss my cookies. I start to think crazy thoughts. My purse is really big but full of everything but my kitchen sink. I could remove whatever I don't want ruined and use my purse. This way I may get away with no one seeing me do it. I wheel myself over to the side of the window almost hidden from people leaving the building but still in site of the people coming in. I start to remove my wallet, a few pill bottles and keys and shove them down the side of the wheelchair on the seat next to me. The rest looks like it would survive an attack and I am just ready to turn my back to the lobby when Bob comes into view at the door. He doesn't notice the way I'm facing or my stuff out of my purse he just grabs the handles and heads for the elevator. I hurry and shove everything back into my purse. The door opens at the second floor-Orthopedics "Head for the Bathroom" I scream as the a lot of people in the waiting room turn to look at me. The bathroom says women on the door so Bob opens the door and gives me a big shove into the bathroom. I go flying across the room to the other side barely getting myself stopped before I run into the wall with my elevated broken leg. Now I have to get myself turned all around and maneuver into the handicapped stall which is the only one a wheelchair will fit in. Hurry Hurry Hurry- I get to the toilet and woooosh I make it just in time. Luckily no one else is in the bathroom to hear all of this going on which I said a silent thank you to Jesus for. I wheel myself to the door after about 10 minutes and Bob is on the other side shaking his head. "Don't talk to me" I spout as he grabs the wheelchair and put me in front of the doctors sign in sheet. The rest of the appointment went off without a hitch. I got my sutures taken out and they gave me the bad news that I cant bear weight at all until 5/1/10. Then only 40%. No full weight bearing until at least 6/15. Dang!!!

I wanted to be back to work by that time. Looks like Im out until at least mid summer in this leg brace and wheelchair bound. Lets see- it could be worse. I could've thrown up in my purse.

This isn't my xray but it looks pretty much exactly like the one they took. The only difference was the big screw on the top of the plate on this one is through my bone below the plate in my leg- otherwise itlooks the same. So I have have a plate and 3 screws!