My Wheelchair Chose Violence, Kyle’s Immune System Said Bet: Part One
It’s been two months since I broke both of my legs.
On March 12th, I was editing a Rollin4W8Loss video when our dog, Charlie, needed to potty. I took him because I needed a quick break. I never dreamed that break would last more than two months.
For nearly a decade, Charlie and I have used the parking lot so I could go full speed. That way, he could get a run in and get his energy out.
Roughly 40 yards from home is where my chair chose complete violence. Ol’ Betty gave up and turned herself off.
She stopped. I did not.
I know what you’re thinking: “TooLazy, weren’t you wearing a seatbelt?”
Honest answer? Hell nah! I have my reasons.
I’ve been driving a wheelchair since I was three. I am a cautious and experienced driver, and never in all my years have I had a wheelchair turn off for no reason.
Anyway, Betty threw me out of her. I immediately knew both legs were broken. I felt both tibias snap, one right after the other. Lying in the parking lot with Charlie, I did the only thing I could do.
Scream for “HELP,” of course.
Thankfully, the nicest couple heard me and came running my way. The gentleman put me back in my wheelchair while his wife kept Char safe and called the EMT.
Unfortunately, the X-rays proved what I already knew.
A million things ran through my mind as I laid in a hospital gurney: What happens to Kyle if they keep me? How will I get to bed tonight if they don’t? Will the pain ever stop?
The doctors didn’t feel comfortable sending me home without the proper care in place, and honestly, I couldn’t blame them. As most of you know, we have an incredible support system, and this situation was no exception.
A very good friend of ours, Big Dawg, kindly agreed to stay with Kyle until my mom could fly in from Texas. The hospital kept me for five days, and during that time, my family and friends worked on getting everything ready for my arrival home.
I spent those five days working with the staff to get my pain under control, because it was unbearable. Turns out, my calf muscles had torn off the bone. Yikes. And yes, it hurts as bad as you think it would. Once we figured out the main source of the pain, I greatly improved.
Life at home was like nothing else I’ve ever experienced. My world was completely different. I couldn’t do any of my normal routine. I went from using the bathroom myself and doing my own transfers to being unable to sit forward and feed myself.
Patience with myself is not exactly my best quality. I struggled hard with the fact that I could no longer do things for myself. Why couldn’t I roll myself over anymore? Why did I need to use a bedpan now? Did I have to use the Hoyer lift to transfer? These were all things I truly contemplated for the first month of being home. If I’m being honest, they still are.
If I’ve learned anything from this, it’s that it’s okay to slow down and take the time I need to heal. It’s okay that I need more help. It’s okay to lean on the ones we love.
This has been one of the most frustrating experiences of my life. However, it has also taught me not to take the “little stuff” for granted. A “small” victory is a victory nonetheless.
And just when we thought we could focus on healing…
On March 30th, Kyle was diagnosed with RSV.
