Two Sides to Every Story

I wasn't kidding when I said that we have had really crappy luck since we have been in Boise. Check out this glorious accessory. And believe me when I tell you it is better than the boot they had me in at first. So, I broke my heel. And I can tell you the story and it sounds pretty fantastic, but the truth is there are two sides to every story. About 2 weeks ago I was over at my In-laws swimming with my kids and two of my S.I.L.s were there swimming with their kids too. We were having a really nice time and had had dinner and the children got back in the pool but the adults were still sitting out at the table and several had gone in side for a bit.

(Side 1) Anyway, I'm sitting there when Norm hollers, "Laynie's in trouble!" I look over and see my 4 year old niece struggling in the water and without even thinking I jump up and run and do a flying leap into the pool. I get to Laynie and I am able to help her and get her out of the pool.

(Side 2) I jump up and run and do a flying leap into the pool, assuming that since Laynie is struggling where I am jumping in must be the deep end- WRONG! Where I jumped in was not quite the deep end and my right heel smashed into the concrete floor. I was in so much pain at that moment it actually took my breath away but I hopped on my left foot the rest of the short way to Laynie and right as I got to her she was finding the side of the pool.

So my amazing rescue could pretty much be down graded to moral support as I helped my frightened and crying niece out of the pool so she could go see her mom. Of course I proceed to walk around on my foot for a good 5 days before seeing a podiatrist. He said he felt certain I had a stress fracture but we would need to re-xray again in 2 weeks to be sure and so we treat it with the 'big ugly boot'/walking cast. Well, that didn't really work. And my heel that hadn't been swollen before started swelling up after I would walk around on it at all. So he sends me for a bone scan. The technician who did it totally made me feel tough cuz he was freaking out saying he hadn't seen a scan 'this bright' since he could remember and couldn't imagine how I was walking on it.

Turns out there was a nice fracture along with a beautiful bone bruise and so now the dr. puts a cast on me and tells me he wants me to stay off of it for 3 weeks...In my head I question the legitimacy of his degree and bite my tongue to keep from asking, "Did you take math? Try this equation: (temporarily) Single mom + 3 children under the age of 5 + no dad able to help out and a broken heel that I am supposed to some how stay off of in a townhouse that has about 50 stairs mocking me at every turn = IMPOSSIBLE!" Instead I said 'Sure thing doc' and got outta there, searching in my mind the assortment of big scary tools I've seen in my parents garage that I felt confident I could get the cast off with. I have made it 3 whole days...The statement -one day at a time- has never been so maddeningly true.