If you read this weekly, you may remember that 9 weeks ago I sprained my ankle badly. I wore my air cast for the first 2 weeks. Moved to smaller brace for a few weeks and I’ve been in physical therapy 1-2 times per week for the last 4 weeks. Long story short, I’ve been putting in the work to heal.

But Saturday, all that came crashing down when I rolled my ankle again. It was dumb and avoidable, I stepped on a part I’d left laying on a step. I collided with the garage floor and started yelling expletives. As I screamed in pain, writhing on the floor, the kids came running. I assured them I was hurt but I was okay.

We moved me to the couch where I could prop my leg up. They got me ice, ibuprofen, my phone, and a pillow for my head.

The impact of what happened landed as soon as I was settled.

I will have to go back to the Dr. and start therapy all over again, not to mention pay for it again. Camp Widow, I can’t wear cute shoes to Camp!! While the air cast boot is helpful, it’s not particularly fashion forward and I have so many shoes that need to see the world. Once again, I’m injured with no wing man to help me fill in the gaps.

So, I laid backwards on that couch and sobbed. The boys brought me a whole box of Kleenex’s and hugged me.

Once that was out of my system, I texted 2 neighbors to tell them what I just did. I’d organized a gathering at the neighborhood pool for our little pocket of friends that was supposed to start in 30 minutes. There was no way I was going to make it there.
My friends also read this blog. They use it as way to keep up with me and really understand what I’m going through as they try and support me. But they also learn a thing or two about me, that would otherwise remain hidden behind the walls we all put up sometimes. For me, that is asking for help. They’ve got my number now.

Without missing a beat, those 2 ladies were in my house. First, they let me cry and made sure I had what I needed for the injury. Next, they packed my bag, snacks, and a cooler. They sent the kids to change and found my boot and swimsuit and brought them down to me.

I was still in too much pain to take my foot out of the elevated position. They took all my stuff and my kids and took them to the pool while I continued to rest. After an hour, I was able to change into my suit but when I put on the air cast, I realized I couldn’t even walk in that. The pain was still too fresh.

I called them at the pool to tell them I wouldn’t be able to come, but sometimes your friends don’t take no for an answer. She said, you’ve got your suit on? We’ll be right there! I didn’t have it in me to argue.

Two more neighbors roll up on their golf cart, backing it all the way to the stairs of my porch. Making it so I have to walk as little as possible. They come in and act as my crutch to get me to the cart.

 

When I get in the water, with that weightless feeling water can give you, I am thankful. Thankful I could trust them to watch my kids for an hour while I rested. Thankful for this tribe of a neighborhood that wouldn’t let me lay inside all day feeling sorry for myself. Thankful to be in a pool, one of my happy places with a drink in my hand. Thankful for all of them.