A Family Bike Ride

As a wife and mommy of three, I've found there isn't much time for doing anything other than what a wife and mommy does. It's a full time, all day and night, 24 hours, 7 days a week kinda job. Mothers are in charge of making sure everything and everyone functions as needed. They are the oil that keeps the machine called a family running. There is no time built in to spend on being sick or recovering. Well...that is, until you have no other choice.  And an unexpected surgery from a broken collarbone has left me no choice. I've had to sit on the side lines and watch this well oiled machine function so amazingly well without me. What an experience it has been! 

It was May 31st. A beautiful spring yet summery-feeling Saturday evening. We hadn't made much of our Saturday (meaning it looked much like our normal M-F day) so when daddy got home from work we decided that a family bike ride would serve as our memorable event of the day. Even though it was 7:30 and a short 30 minutes from bedtime we decided to go for it and seize the moment. 

It was our first ever, family of five, bike ride. Daddy had Josiah and Gabby buckled in and sitting in the trailer attached to his bike. Mikey was riding on Gabby's red and pink radio flyer tricycle and I on another bike. We headed out of our neighborhood to cruise through another of the three neighborhoods in Westgate. We hadn't made it far at all when I fell. I thought I could hold onto the push handle on the back of Mikey's tricycle and help guide him to the left hand side of the road when I lost my balance and couldn't regain it.  

It all happened so slowly. I had enough time to think about the fact that...
1. I had lost my balance
2. I was not going to be able to regain it
3. I had no choice but to fall
4. I'm going to fall 

So I thought, let's get this over with and move on.  I fell. I fell right over Mikey and his bike onto my left elbow, shoulder and left side of my head. As soon as I fell intense pain seized me. I griped my left shoulder with one hand and my head with the other. I wasn't sure which hurt worse but soon realized my shoulder pain was much more prominent. 

It seemed, at that very moment, like there were two of me. One already standing, looking down at my injured self, wondering why I haven't gotten up yet. I could hear myself saying "GET UP! You don't do this. You don't get hurt. Get up!" There were no tears but oh, was I crying! I was in pain. A lot of it. I finally managed to get up from the curled up ball I laid in as Michael walked over to help. He pulled the neckline of my t-shirt over to take a look and after one glance he knew I had broken a bone. 

"Let's go!" he said. 

I closed my eyes for moments that felt like an eternity and tried to soak it all in...
Uggghhh, we were only FIVE minutes into our family bike ride! I lost my balance...I fell...I BROKE A BONE!!

This is not how I planed for the evening to go. 

Super Daddy drug all three bikes back to the house all while carrying Josiah AND dialing phone numbers (in a very hectic manor) in hopes to quickly arrange where we could drop the kids off on the way to the ER.

Naturally, Gabriella and Mikey were very, very upset. I'll never forget the sound of their cries. Although they themselves weren't physically hurt, I heard such intense pain in their cries. I heard fear. I heard sadness. Their very own superhero was hurt and showing extreme weakness. Weakness they just weren't use to seeing. You could look into their eyes and tell that everything they were once sure of was suddenly unsteady. Their little worlds were falling apart. They were afraid and I wanted nothing more than to ease their pain and to comfort them. Reassurance is all they needed. It quieted their fears and eased their pain. Sweet reassurance. 

Yet all the while, my mind was racing. I can hardly believe what's happened and that we were headed to the emergancy room. My first time ever in the ER. My first time ever breaking a bone. I'm just not the "clumsy" type. There was a definite point where I couldn't help but wonder WHY this happened to me? Am I not doing all that I should to keep my bones strong enough to endure a fall like this? I wondered what I could have done to prevent it from happening. I also immediately thought of what's to come of my nursing relationship with Josiah. Will this road abruptly end without warning to either of us? What is that going to look like? How is he going to handle it? Oh my goodness! And yes, although I almost can't believe I thought this, I did, for a brief second breath a sigh of relief thinking about how nice it might be to be taken care of for a short amount of time while recovering. 

Well, regardless of my disbelief, we were headed to the Emergency Room. We dropped the littles off (all THREE of them! Such a HUGE DEAL!) with zero warning to my amazing, God-sent friend, Emily. (She really is a Gift from God to me. I feel so blessed by her friendship.) I stayed in the car trying my best not to move and watched my Michael hand the littles off to Emily's Michael. He (having never really met my Michael) so willingly and without one ounce of hesitation took our littles in. Remarkable. I had not one worry the entire two hours we were away from them. 

Trembling with pain, I did my very best to focus all my energy on holding my arm just right. I remember repeating the name of Jesus over and over and over again. I'm so grateful a new hospital was built maybe seven minutes from our home. So grateful! It wasn't until we got there that I tuned into the fact that I was also using labor breathing techniques to help deal with the pain. (They were very helpful!)

We waited for maybe five minutes before they called us back. They took us to a room, cut my pink Devoted Praise t-shirt off (Ugh! I'm still a little upset that I didn't even think about asking to keep MY shirt. I'm not even sure what was done to it after they cut it off. I would have loved to keep it for memory sake.), threw a gown on me and rolled me to get x-rays all rather quickly. 

What I remember most about this part of the experience was wanting so badly to have someone, anyone, tell me that I was going to be OK. I was afraid. I wanted to hear that regardless of the mistake I'd made, I was fixable. Regardless of the damage I had done, everything was going to be OK. I longed for that sweet reassurance, too. 

The X-ray tech did his best to position me without causing me any (more) pain. I appreciated his efforts although not completely successful. He'd position me, walk into the "safe room", glance at the X-ray image on the computer screen and come back to reposition me for the next X-ray. Every time he'd walk towards me he avoided eye contact. He did this a total of three or four times. He could probably feel the burning desire I had to hear the news, good or bad. 

All in all, they took a few x-rays, confirmed a broken collarbone, referred me to an orthopedic doctor (of which was out of town and we did not go to), gave me a shot for the pain (that caused me to throw up a possible total of ten times) and an arm sling then sent me on my way. 

Here I am the (sleepless) night of the accident. 

I probably should have tried to smile for that picture. 

We had to wait an entire day (Sunday, June 1st) before the workday of Monday (June 2nd) came along. Sunday gave me a bit if time to research this collarbone breaking madness.  I learned a few interesting things that somehow managed to comfort me at the time...

• Collarbone fractures are typical of professional bike riders. 
• It takes as little as 7 pounds of pressure to break a collar bone.
• A broken collarbone will usually heal on it's own. 
• Only 5-10% of collarbone fractures result in surgery.  (Whew! BIG sigh of relief! Or so I thought!) 

Our wonderful Natasha, who works for Fayetteville Orthopedic (Therapy) called first thing Monday morning and got us an appointment with Dr. Barnes. She might just be a miracle worker. She got us in, in a jiffy and with a wonderful doctor on top of that! We were SO grateful! 

When Dr. Barnes show us the X-rays they took at his office, I was flabbergasted! Fractured?!? Psshhhh, it was broken! I mean, really broken! Dr. Barnes is a very mater of fact kinda of doctor. He got straight to the point. He wasted no time telling us that I would need surgery and would need it as soon as possible. Like the next day at 1pm, as soon as possible. He informed us that my collarbone was shortened, meaning that one half of my collarbone was underneath the other. Yikes! It was a really good break and was not going to heal properly on its own. 

I was in complete disbelief, finding it hard to believe I was part of the 5-10% who needed surgery. His mater of factness, though, did make it easier to accept reality. There was no lingering about what could have been. It was broken and I needed surgery. That's it. I left his office feeling confident in his ability as a surgeon and ready to boldly take it on. 

After a long day of pre-op paperwork, insurance dealings, painful engorgement from two and a half days (more than 48 hours!) without nursing and another sleepless night, surgery day finally came. 

Yes, I'm guilty of a selfie. A bathroom selfie at that. 

Yay for a smile! 

And off to surgery we went! 

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