First things first: Baby Hayden is officially out of the woods. She is breathing well on her own, and the tube draining her lungs (or whatever) is out. She was taking a bottle, and I believe today was the first day Katie was able to nurse her. Good news indeed! Katie has some wonderful friends in Puerto Rico, who are so supportive and have organized a carpool to pick her up twice a day and take her to the hospital and back so she can hold and feed Hayden. Isn't that nice? I don't think you could find better friends, or a better ward anywhere!
Now about me: On Tuesday night, L and I set out for our usual walk. I was feeling pretty good because we were actually going earlier than usual, and that meant we were ahead of schedule. We parked in the church parking lot and were headed across the street to where the trail starts. It was pretty dark, and L had just said that he'd forgotten the flashlight. I answered that we'd be all right without it. And with those words I stepped on an uneven patch, my left ankle went over hard, and I totally boofed it on the ground before I could catch myself. I grabbed my ankle, said some bad words (right across from the church!!!) and started crying. L, meanwhile, kept circling me, wondering how to pick me up. I mean, I bit it HARD. I finally got up (with help) and was able to walk back to the car, where a huge egg was forming on my left ankle. Honestly, I thought I could walk it off until I saw the swelling. We got home, and I walked in and upstairs under my own steam and L put an icepack on my ankle.
A little while later I thought I should get up and wash my face, brush my teeth, etc and OH. MY. GOSH. I couldn't even put weight on that left foot. That's when I got a little hysterical, and I probably needed a little slap to snap me out of it, but L is way too nice for that. He just sighs patiently in that way, and then it makes me be quiet. So he got me back to the bed, and he had to bring me everything to wash my face and moisturize. It would have been funny to watch him trying to figure out just the right product or cream to bring me had I not been so mad at myself. He was trying really really hard. And because he was so nice I was determined to not wake him up in the night when I had to go to the bathroom. Three times. Instead, my friends, I crawled. Three times. There's a real drawback to drinking lots of water sometimes.
On Wednesday I thought I should stay home from work, even though the swelling was way down. I took Ibuprofin all day, kept the ankle elevated and wrapped, and finished The Lost Symbol by Dan Brown, and my new Lucky magazine. By the end of the day, I was able to walk around with only a slight limp. But when I took off the wrap, it revealed an ankle that is still very swollen and VERY bruised. Not to mention ugly. Oddly enough, it doesn't hurt a lot. What hurts is my whole left side, which, I assume, took the brunt of the fall. (I can't remember.) I'm all achey and it hurts to take deep breath. But since even that is getting better, I assume no ribs were broken - just my pride.
L came home, cooked dinner, made a pumpkin pie (!!), showed me the English Toffee he'd purchased from a co-worker's kid, and the Kettle Corn he'd gotten at Trader Joe's. After dinner we headed upstairs to watch a movie. I was settled on the bed in my undies and a pair of black Halloween socks with orange jack o' lanterns on them. My feet were cold, and I was just lounging. (Sorry for the visual, but it's tantamount to the story) L came in, looked at me in all my glory, and kind of chuckled. I was embarrassed and started to apologize for looking like such a dork. He came over to the bed and said "No, no - that's the beautiful part of marriage. You can be however you want, and its OK." Now you can see why I love this man. He loves me in my undies and Halloween socks in November, and thinks I am beautiful. AND he makes pumpkin pie on a whim. Not only that, but he shared English Toffee with me, and then a small bowl of Kettle Corn. We watched our movie, had treats, and then we pulled the covers over ourselves, snuggled, and went to sleep. As I drifted off, I thought about what a lucky girl I am to be married to this man who loves me in funky socks with a gimpy ankle.