Delaware Grammy

The staples come out tomorrow!!!

Oh, WOW!

(or is that “OW”?)

I can hardly wait!!!

It has been a most encouraging week at Shady Acres.

Aunt Dottie and Cousin Donna brought supper on Monday evening. Do you remember Monday evening? It was cold and rainy and so miserable. Aunt Dottie had made the best potato soup that you could ever want to put in your mouth, and between her and Donna, there was seven layer salad, soft, yeasty rolls and a chocolate puddingy dessert that needed toothpicks to keep the plastic wrap off the mile high whipped cream. It was wonderfully nourishing and comforting and delicious.

After unloading the wonderful food, Donna went back out to her vehicle and brought in the loveliest plant for our new sun room from the ladies of our church. It was absolutely gorgeous! I wanted to take a picture, but my battery needs to be charged — so for now, I will just tell you about it. This was a great blessing to me because I know that both of these gals have so much to do, and it took effort to bring supper. And the plant is a precious reminder of how my friends at church are rooting for me. I can seriously feel the prayers.

JR and Linda stopped to cheer me up, and Jimmy stopped in with some wonderfully delicious St. Patrick’s Day food — Irish Soda Bread and some Irish Fudge. Lester B. stopped by to swap shop talk about knee replacements, Cecilia’s Mom and her case manager and nurse stopped by (Cecilia had a birthday this week). Yesterday, Jimmy brought Emma around for the afternoon, and she brought more Irish food. Several kinds of bread and cookies — and more fudge. We spent some good hours together. Emma had foot surgery a couple of months ago and ended up with an infection which resulted in lots of pain, and more time off her feet than she had planned. We had much to talk and commiserate about. She is a good friend, and she didn’t even mind when I slept in my chair while she was here. I was blessed by the fact that she did all that special baking with her foot in a big old boot and lots of pain. That Emma-girl is tough!

Then last night, another comrade in suffering, Kim Landis, stopped by with supper for my family — way more than she would have needed to bring, but it was greatly appreciated. Homemade lasagna, tossed salad, warm garlic bread and this chocolate brownie cake kind of thing. We had so much that Eldest Daughter’s family came to help us eat, and there is still stuff left. Kim had her knee done the week after I had my first one done, and she has had a rough way to go. It is doing better now, and she is back to work, but it hasn’t been an easy week for her — I think that five ten hour days in a row were just a little much — Which made the sacrifice of making supper for us even more appreciated.  It was delicious!

After supper last night, my Sweet Mama and my Youngest Sister stopped by to visit. That chirked me up, too. It was so good to see them. Youngest Sister wanted to borrow some videos and my Sweet Mama just wanted to check up on me. We had a good visit, and I was blessed by the laughter. Middle Sister keeps close tabs by phone, and she was here to visit earlier in the week. Middle Sister has had more than her share of pain, and it is a great comfort to have my heart bathed in her understanding, compassionate love. My sisters and my Sweet Mama always make me feel like they are in my cheering section. And they are safe places for me to be myself.

Today was one of those days when I wanted to sit in my corner and cry. I tried to sleep in my bed again last night, but finally had to waken Certain Man so he could see that I got back down stairs safely. Once down here, I slept pretty well, but this morning the pain was intense. I was greatly discouraged. I worked on some financial stuff for the church, got some deposits ready for the bank, paid some bills, shed some tears of pain and frustration, then remembered that my physical therapy gal was coming, so I took my pain meds, made a hot cup of coffee, and answered the telephone.

It was my Sweet Mama, telling the wondrous story of being taken out for lunch by JR and Linda. She and Aunt Dottie are fans of the Chinese cuisine (Something that Certain Man and I haven’t developed a taste for at this point of our pilgrimage) and so JR and Linda made arrangements to take them out to lunch. They were at a great buffet in Georgetown and she (actually, it sounds like ALL of them) had a wonderful time. Just hearing about the good time raised my spirits a whole lot, and when my Physical Therapist got here, I was actually feeling cheerful — in spite of the pain.

Isn’t it funny how a little encouragement goes a long way. My therapist couldn’t have been more encouraging. She tells me that I am doing exceedingly well. She is suspicious that some of the pain might be from being on my leg too much, (Yesterday was too pretty a day to stay inside. I asked Certain Man to take a stroll with me around our yard. I wanted to see the crocuses, blooming so profusely by the front walk. I wanted to see where my day lilies have started to poke their heads up through. I wanted to see the tulips and the hyacinths and daffodils in their various states of beginning to bloom. I wanted to see the lawn and the trees and the sky and the sun. I was careful. I took my walker, and we walked slowly. It was a great encouragement to me!) Anyhow, she thought part of the pain might be the price of the fiddler from yesterday, but she was thrilled with my progress, and she keeps telling me how well everything is going. There is nothing like being told that you are way ahead of schedule to make you feel a whole lot better. This was a great encouragement to me.

And then tonight — Kent and April and their little people came to our house with supper. April had marinated some pork chops, made salad, prepared potatoes for baking, had a big pot of long string beans with bacon, and made “Dirty Dessert” with Oreos and pudding and Cool Whip. Kent grilled the pork chops to perfection on Certain Man’s big old grill, and what a feast we had again!!! I ate in the shelter of my chair, but the group of people at the table made an effort to include me in the conversation, so I didn’t feel left out. This meal again, seemed to be exactly what we needed. It was especially a treat because I NEVER make pork chops. (Maybe twice in all the years since I’ve been married.) It just isn’t something I felt brave enough to try. These were delicious, and everything else was done to perfection. So special.

Each of our meals suited the day they were brought so perfectly, and nourished our souls as well as our bodies. Each one seemed to be planned by, not only the cook, but our Heavenly Father as well. It has just been an incredible blessing — and encouragement to me.

And then, in the middle of all the chatter tonight, the door to the utility room opened from the entryway and there was Youngest Son and his Lovely Wife. They are around for the weekend, and tomorrow, Lord willing, the children of Certain Man and Certain Man’s Wife will gather for breakfast together. We will miss Youngest Daughter, far away at college, but we will enjoy the company that is here, and be happy together. Late tonight, our far away, almost-a-daughter, Lupe called from Guatemala, and it was a precious time together. She sounded so happy, so mature, so much herself. It did this old heart good, and was a great diversion from the troublesome knee!

The pain this week has been more than I bargained for. There have been some days when I didn’t quite know how I was going to cope. But look at what God planned for me on every hand! He has spoken love to me through the visits, the cards, the food, the friendships, the phone calls, Xanga comments — and I look at all He’s done and I am greatly encouraged. And it won’t always hurt this bad. It is better now than it was last week, and “they” say it will continue to improve. It still looks like a long haul ahead, with hours and hours of rehab. And I know from experience that won’t be much fun, but I also know from experience that it is worth it. By God’s Grace, and in His presence, together we can make it.

So!  Blessings to all of you, my dear friends and family. If I missed you somewhere in this missive, I apologize. I am truly sorry. So often in the past, I have not written this sort of thing for fear of missing someone, but this has meant so much to me over this past week that I decided to give it a whirl! It is a good reminder to me, too, of how other people have sacrificed so much to help me, and I feel so unworthy, yet so overwhelmingly grateful! Thanks so very much!

EDIT:

This morning, I looked over to where the sun was dancing all over my window sill, and caught sight of such a pretty splash of emerald blue among a cluster of daffy down lilies, and remembered that I had forgotten to mention one of my bestest visitors of all yesterday.  Cousin Joanie came in, surprising me with her easy humor and graceful glide.  She brought me this vase full of daffodils that were blooming around her farmhouse, and she had stuck a whimsical blue butterfly in the midst — making my heart lurch with joy and hope.  She visited a while, then confessed that she had a terrible headache, and skedaddled on home, but left me much encouraged and blessed.  The flowers are so cheery, and I am blessed.

Certain Man has accomplished his goals again!

He wanted to have the Sun Room trimmed out before my next knee replacement (which is, Lord Willing, tomorrow) and today his friend, John Yoder, (from Dover) came and got it all finished.  It looks wonderful.  I am so happy!

The view towards Shawnee Road

The view towards the corner and Shawnee Road

The view towards our neighbor’s tree farm

The view towards the chicken house.

The day is a bit overcast, but this room is cheery and full of light.  It is the day for my friend, Ruby, to clean, and she washed all the windows, scrubbed the floor on her hands and knees and it is ready for some furniture.  Youngest Daughter is supposed to arrive home tonight for a mini spring break, and I am so blessed to have Ruby’s good help today, and to know that Youngest Daughter will be home for a few days.  Middle Daughter is taking another leave of absence from work to help out, and I am getting so anxious to have this done. 

The unreplaced knee has been rather unstable for the last few weeks, and on this last morning before surgery, took it upon itself to go out of joint somehow.  I was standing at the shower, giving Cecelia her morning shower, when something really thumped around in my knee joint, went off center, and then it wouldn’t support my weight.  I wasn’t sure what was going on, but it felt like I needed to call Deborah to finish for me.  I kept extending it, and trying to get it to go back into place, and it only seemed to be getting worse.  I finally stood on one leg while I finished washing Cecilia, and suddenly it seemed to fall back into place somehow, and everything was (semi) fine.  It wasn’t as much painful as it was strange.  It was a good reminder to me that the timing for this second replacement has been under God’s watchful eye and his careful plan. How much better timing could I get than to have this knee act up the day before surgery?  That’s what I call a gift to help me get in the mood for surgery.

I just put
the last paper
into the last folder
for the accountant and
(as far as I know, anyhow)
I am done
getting tax information together
for another year.

I just might make that five o’clock appointment!

Thank you, Lord Jesus!!!
(And everyone else that cooperated with me.)
Whew!
What a relief!

Yesterday, I rode around and around in the parking lot at Beebe Medical Center’s outpatient lab/emergency room looking for a parking place.  After about five times around and deciding that I needed to go somewhere else, a pickup pulled out of a very narrow space, and since I was driving Certain Man’s pickup, I decided that I could probably squeeze into it.  And I did.  It really was a tight fit, but I was able to get out of the door, into the hospital, got the labwork done that I needed, and got back out to the pickup to discover that things had actually opened up a little bit there, and it wasn’t so tight.

This morning, in those delicious, drowsy moments after I first got awake, lying there thinking about the fact that this is Saturday, and I need to do taxes, thinking that this is my last Saturday of normal living for a while, and feeling that wave of reality sweeping over me, disturbing my peace, causing my stomach to go into a knot, I turned over and snuggled deeper into the blankets, and began to pray. 

This is where I always come when things are overwhelming.  Here is where I know that there is a space for me.  I Suddenly thought about yesterday, driving around and around in that parking place, wondering if there would ever be a spot for me, and suddenly the presence of the Lord bathed my troubled heart with such a sense of quiet and joy.

There is never a full parking lot when I am wanting to park in God’s presence.  I never have to wait for someone to leave, never have to pay, never need to feel crowded or shoved back.  No one ever takes my spot.  No one ever tells me I am parked illegally.  I brought my battered and damaged heart into His presence this morning and found a well-spring of comfort and peace.  And a reminder that these emotions are not mine to cope with alone.  He will be with me.  He knows how anxious I feel.  And that, even while I purpose to trust Him, I struggle with the pain I know is ahead, and I need to deal with the fear that wants to crowd my “parking place” in His presence.

It was getting late, and I finally pushed back the covers of my cozy nest and came on down to get busy with the day.  It is a beautiful day in Southern Delaware, and even though I need to spend it working on our Income Tax, it is a GOOD day. 

My beloved Uncle Luke used to say, “Make it a good day!” and I realize again that he know the secret of having good days was in the decisions made to co-operate with the Heavenly Father in whatever the day brought.  Last year at this time, he was fighting the last and biggest battle of his life, and we were watching with concern and intense interest and breaking hearts.  But he was a fighter, an optimist, an incredible example for us to follow, and he did not disappoint us.  Today, with a battle ahead of far lesser magnitude, but the same Heavenly Father, I purpose to follow his oft repeated instructions to us, and “make it a good day”.

The thing that has been foremost in my mind these last few days has been the loss of my cousin’s husband to Esophageal Cancer.  Only 62, Dale Witmer was a man that will be acutely missed in so many ways.  His wife, Jeanne, is the oldest of the “Wert Cousins” and I always thought that she and her sister, Janice, were almost perfect.  I remember when Jeanne and Dale were getting married, and I was incredibly impressed with how devoted they were to each other.  Over the years, their obvious affection for each other,their four gifted sons, and now grandchildren has been a joy to behold.  The last several years, as Dale’s health has been precarious, then he was laid off from his life job, and their once comfortable lifestyle turned into stretching the resources and making do, his optimism and her determination were something that was admirable.  Sunday we plan to attend a celebration of life in Manheim, and I look forward to hearing the words, seeing the faces, and remembering this life well-lived.  A really precious tribute to Dale was posted by a daughter in law on her blog site.  It was written as a way of telling her little girlie about what a wonderful grandfather she had.  If you want to access that site, here is the link: http://robertswitmer.blogspot.com/

It is uncommonly hard on my Sweet Mama.  Just this week she marked five years of being cancer free.  She had the same cancer as Dale, and it is easy to wonder all the  “What if’s?”  and “If Only’s” and “Do you suppose’s”.

I wish so much that he could have lived.    We all do.  He was a kind, generous and good man.

In other news — 

I just got in from my pre-op visit with my primary care physician.  It was pretty simple, and I think that (at least as far as he’s concerned) I’m ready for surgery.

I’ve been thinking alot about being “ready” for surgery.  It would be nice if this was like child birth in that I could know that it was coming sometime, and I needed to be prepared ahead of time, but didn’t know exactly “when” it was going to happen.  I think I do better that way.  I know that I never wanted to have an induced labor.  One of my friends who, because of precipitous births, ended up with induced labors told me once about sitting in the parking lot of the hospital the morning she was to be induced.  “It’s like taking yourself to the guillotine,” she said grimly.  “To think that you are actually going to go in there and make this happen!”

That’s kind how I feel about this surgery.  It is hard to believe that I am going to go in there and let them replace the other knee.  But it is wonderful to think about the fact that the second knee will be replaced and then the knees will be finished for now.  Over.  Done.  WOW!!!  What a blessing that will be. 

I would be lying to say that I am without trepidation.  It has been far better than I thought it would be with my first knee replacement.  An awful lot of hard work.  Lots and lots of pain.  Blood.  Toil.  Tears.  Sweat.  And I’m not kidding.  But worth it.  And I don’t know if I thought that I would go crazy from pain, or if I would be in tears most of the time, but it was just not quite as bad as I thought.  And that new knee is doing so well.  I am three months post op with it, and it is just plain unbelievable to me how I can walk with NO FUNCTIONAL PAIN.  I’m so grateful to my Heavenly Father.  I’m grateful to Dr. Choy, too, and to his team.  But I’ve said it before, and I will say it again:  Even good doctors have bad days, and bad doctors have good days.  This is SO in the hands of the Father.  “Except the LORD heal the knee, the surgeon operates in vain.”  

So we begin the countdown.  Beginning tomorrow, no more ibuprofen, no more anti-inflamatory meds, and then lab work, EKG, and then, finally, (Lord Willing) March 11th:  A NEW KNEE. 

I am so anxious to have this behind us.

Saturday, February 13th, the rare opportunity presented itself of having most of our children home for breakfast.
Middle Daughter was still in Chad, but the rest of the crew was here.

Including our grandbaby, Charis.
Isn’t she growing up?

(Way too fast on one hand, but I can’t wait to hear how she says “Grammy”.)   Her favorite word so far is “Hey!”  but often drawn out to be two syllables as in “He-ey.”  “So cute!!!” Says this unbiased Grammy.

The Yoders were getting together for breakfast at Smiths, and I am often not able to be there, but Daniel had said I should plan to go.  After I had my plans laid, I discovered that the kids wanted to have breakfast here.  “You don’t have to be here, Mom,” they insisted.  “We can get along without you.”  I was so torn, because I did, of course, want to be here with my family.  But I really wanted to go to be with my extended family, too.  Especially since my “almost a twin” cousin, Gloria Diener and her husband, Gene, were coming from Virginia, bringing my Uncle Paul along.  So I made baked oatmeal for my family, and got things around here, and when I left, this is what I left behind:

 
At the far end of the table is Oldest Son, Raph with his wife, Regina (clockwise, here).
Beside Regina is Rachel’s friend, Bethany Barkdoll and then Rachel.

At this side of the table is Christina, Jesse, Jessica and Lem.

At the other end of the table was
Certain Man,
Our little Love Bug,
and Christina and Jesse again.

It was really hard to leave.  But I had such good company waiting:

My brother, Clint, his wife, Frieda, Gene, Gloria, my cousin, Becky,
Uncle Dan, Uncle Paul, Uncle Jesse, Aunt Gladys,  |(and where you can’t see her, My Sweet Mama)

Here is a better pictures of the three uncles.
Uncle Daniel, Uncle Paul, Uncle Jesse.
Uncle Amos and Uncle David weren’t there.
Uncle John, Uncle Luke and My Daddy may have been watching from Heaven.

My brother, Mark, jr., and cousin, Joe Bontrager.
These two had plenty to discuss.  It seems like Mark had broken his toe and didn’t think he was getting the sympathy he deserved.  (Maybe he should have a Xanga page, and he could have written a story!)

Dave and Ilva.
There were sitting up by me.
They are always good company.

Just before we broke up, Gloria asked if we could sing the song, “I owe the Lord a Morning Song.” and of course, being Yoder’s, we did.  it bounced off the walls of the restaurant, and sounded so good.  I listened to my Uncle Jesse’s tenor, and heard the strong altos, tenors and basses.  Becky, down at the other end, was singing her heart out, too.  It settled into my heart and comforted me.  And then Gloria and I got a picture, like we try to do when we are together, but goodness, me, Gloria-girl! Is that really us???  How did we get to be so —???  (I won’t write it, then it might not be quite so true.)

All too soon, it was over, and some of the family was hurrying to Vivian Beachy’s funeral, and the rest of us went our separate ways.  Good memories of good times together — until we meet again.

And this afternoon, Certain Man and I are heading for Baltimore to pick up Middle Daughter.  Yes, she is to be arriving HOME today.  I am so excited.  It will be wonderful to have her home again.

Certain Man’s Wife Copes with the Big Snow

Certain Man’s Wife has long been a fan of a Big Snow. Although being instructed often in the inconvenience of it, and even having some first hand experience with how difficult it makes things for the man in her life, she still LIKES it. Even after having an awful lot of it, and having been housebound nearly continuously for a week, and having her ladies home 24/7, and having Certain Man fussing around, she still LIKES IT!!! Even with the snow covered paths and difficulty getting to the bird feeders, and the snow tracked in and extra laundry and extra cooking, and even having to carry bags of pellets to the stove in the absence of Certain Man, she still LIKES IT!!! And even now, after confessing to such and expecting the avalanche of objections that are sure to follow, and knowing that Certain Man will quite possibly be wroth with her, and will heap upon her ears the reasonable objections and arguments, She does, and probably WILL CONTINUE TO — LIKE SNOW.

The week has been incredibly special to CMW. Her beloved Certain Man has only had to work two of the days, and having him around home is a real boost to the atmosphere around Shady Acres. He is so adept and has so many ingenious ideas about how to fix things when they go wrong. He has a rapport with the neighbors that cause them to call CMW and gush on and on about how helpful he is with his tractor and loader and blade, extolling his virtues and intelligence and neighborliness. Beings that most of our neighbors are either elderly or have serious health problems, they find him a ready help for all sorts of things. I am so proud of him, even though he doesn’t share my great love for a Big Snow. Besides, it is no secret that opposites attract—and besides being MALE, he really is quite my opposite in many things.

So, we’ve been muddling through, he and I, and actually we’ve been pretty good friends through most of it. We’ve worked together to get the birds fed, he has done more than his share of shoveling and such. The one thing he has been vocal about involved me going out in the snow.

If I’ve heard it once, I’ve heard it a dozen times. “Hon, what do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m just making a little path here so I can get to my bird feeder.”

“You are going to slip and fall, and I’m going to have to fix the new knee again and the other one, too. I don’t think you should be out here.”

“But Mr. Yutzy, I like to be out here. My knee doesn’t hurt, and I’m being careful.”

“You are going to hit a slippery spot and down you’ll go, and you are going to really be in trouble.”

“I know that I need to be careful, and I’m not doing a lot of stuff. Just shoveling a little and feeding my birds. Besides, I think my boots must have pretty good grip, because I hardly ever have even a little slip.”

He would shake his head and sometimes grin at what he thought was my stubbornness, but he didn’t forbid me to shovel a little here and there. So I cleaned off a path on the deck, and I cleared a path to my squirrel feeder, and I tromped through the snow with some cob corn for another feeder that I thought I could reach pretty well. I re-cleared some areas after the second storm and he pretended to be cross with me, but his eyes were smiley. So I didn’t think I was in too much trouble. Besides. I WAS being careful.

Today was the day that I was to go back to my orthopedic surgeon. I was supposed to see his assistant, but earlier this week they called me and said that they had changed things, and I was supposed to see Dr. Choy because he wanted to evaluate whether I was truly ready to have the second knee replaced. He was going to check on my broken toe, do an evaluation, and then, if he decided that it was okay to go ahead with my surgery, I was going to do the pre-op paper work. This morning, before Certain Man left for work I said, “I really wish you were going along with me today. I wish you were driving and if Dr. Choy decides that I am not ready for the surgery, you could talk him into it.” He thought that I would be just fine by myself, and he was almost certain that he was going to be the only Plumbing Inspector in on this snowy day, so he went forth to his job and I got ready to go to Lewes. I decided to wear my boots with the good grip.

The drive to Dr. Choy’s office usually takes only 30 minutes, but this morning, it took me almost 20 just to get out of Milford. The streets I chose to get to Route 1 South were ones that I thought would be clear, but alas, were not. I had left extra time, and Route 1 was pretty good, but was still mightily relieved when I pulled into the parking lot with five minutes to spare. There was a great traffic jam in the parking lot. There was an ambulance in front of the entrance, and four cars waiting to get past. So instead of trying to go in front of the office to park, I swung around the other side where I saw a parking place. I pulled in, and collected my purse and phone.

The area around where I parked was relatively clear, and I thought how blessed I was to be able to walk without pain. There was no need to use my handicapped parking permit. Besides, I had those boots on with a really good grip. I locked the car and came around the end of the car towards the entrance to the parking lot where I would make a turn and walk down the parking lot in the other direction. The macadam was slushy at places, and there was lots of melting. I stopped as a car went through the slush in front of me, and made long tracks in the slush. I was on a mission! I walked purposefully through the slush, my boots holding their tight grip, my knee working beautifully, no pain, just easy, free movements.

Well, maybe too free. Suddenly, my feet went out from under me. There was no watching this fall in slow motion the way I have sometimes been able to. One moment, I was on my feet. The next, I was flat on the blacktop on my left hip, in the slush, with my purse beyond reach and some of its contents spilling out. The first thing I evaluated, of course was my new knee. It seemed to be in wondrously good shape – still no pain, no twisting. No significant pain anywhere else, no blood, so I decided to try to get up. I am still not sure how I did that. I must have gotten on my knees and pushed myself up with my hands, but I don’t really remember.

There was a terrified little man who came over and stood there helplessly wondering if he could help. I remember telling him that I was fine, and that I thought I could get myself up, even as I was doing it, and he was worriedly trying to get things back into my purse. Somehow, I was suddenly in an upright position and all in one piece. I collected my purse and thanked the kind gentleman,  who was looking relieved.  Then I headed across the parking lot towards the office entrance, not nearly as free and easy. Indeed, it was with great picking of the place to put my foot down.  Slush was dripping off my skirt and the sleeve of my coat with every step, and I felt the cold wetness soaking through my clothes to my skin.

When I was about twenty feet away from the entrance, I was suddenly stooped short by the sound of great shouting going on behind the emergency vehicle that was beginning to move from its place where it had been unloading a patient (and making the great upheaval with the parking lot).

“STOP!!!” Screamed someone from behind the vehicle. “STOP!!! Don’t back up any more!!! STOP!!!” The young female driver brought the large ambulance to a lumbering stop. “Someone is right behind you!” Scolded someone from the office staff who had come out to help with the patient. “You almost ran over this couple.” she said loudly, indignantly.   Visibly shaken, two elderly people came out from behind the vehicle. Snow had been piled up over the sidewalk, and they were headed to the door on the shortest possible route, never realizing that the ambulance was getting ready to move.

The driver was more than a little disgruntled, too. “I didn’t know they were back there!” I heard her say defensively to no one in particular. “There was no way I could have known they were back there!  Everything is in such a mess!”

My little spill on the driveway certainly paled in comparison to being backed over by an ambulance, but I was still very embarrassed, very dirty from landing in the grimy slush, cold and wet. When I signed in, I told the receptionist that I had taken a tumble in the parking lot. I needed some paper towels to clean up the area where my coat had left water all over the counter, and I did want to clean myself up as well.

A nurse came out with a hand full of paper towels for me, and said solicitously, “We need to file an incident report and someone needs to look you over to make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m fine,” I insisted. “Really. Nothing seems to be hurting overly much at all.”

She eyed me dubiously. “We still need to check it out.”

I went into the restroom to dry off, and that is where I discovered that both knees were soaking wet. (That was when I decided that I must have gotten up on my knees when I was trying to get up. That is still a miracle to me.) They didn’t hurt, they weren’t bruised or skinned, and my nylons weren’t even torn. I took stock of the rest of my body. My right hip was starting feel like it was going to have a bruise, my right shoulder was beginning to ache a little, and my hands were bright red. I thought that was pretty small consequence for a woman of my (ahem)
social standing who had such an ungraceful fall.

But you would have thought that I was broken and bleeding. The office staff was galvanized into action. This fall certainly expedited things as far as getting me in and evaluated. The waiting room was full, but the next patient they called was “Mrs. Yutzy”. They had their service rep come in and do an accident report, complete with little drawings. I had to sign a paper saying that what she said on the report was true. I insisted that everything was fine. I was fine. My knee was fine. My wrists were not broken. My hip was okay. I mean, I landed on my most padded part, and had a heavy coat on to boot.So they finally decided that they would let the doctor do a brief evaluation when he got in, and went on with the program.

My broken toe was x-rayed and found to be healing, and then Dr. Choy made his appearance. He checked hip, hands, both knees and found nothing amiss. “You’ll be really sore tomorrow,” he said cheerfully. He grinned with delight over the range of motion of the new knee, and pronounced the progress there “outstanding.” I told him that I had been shoveling snow over the past few days and that my husband was so afraid that it wasn’t good for me.

“It’s very good for you,” he said, laughing. “It is excellent exercise. Falling isn’t the best idea, but shoveling is just fine. Getting out in the fresh air makes you feel better.” 

Then he checked the knee that hadn’t been replaced, and put it through a short range of motion.  It didn’t take him long to agree that it should be done as soon as possible.  He answered a few questions that I had, and suddenly, the paper work was finished, and I was going through the waiting room.  The elderly couple was sitting there, still talking about their frightening experience.

“Yeah, she almost ran over us!  We were right behind the ambulance and all the sudden it started coming back.  If that lady hadn’t hollered, she would have run right over us.  We were right behind it.  It was scary!”  Listening to their account made my heart lurch with thanksgiving as I was reminded again that things could have been so much worse. 

And then, I was on my way home. All in less than an hour after I had pulled into the parking lot. That has to be some sort of record for that office.

There is one thing, though, that I’m a little bit puzzled by. That business about being “really sore tomorrow” must not have been any sort of guarantee. At least something appears to have set in already, making me wish for some sort of diversion.

However, Youngest Daughter is on her way home from college for a week, and Youngest Son and His Wife just called and said they are coming home for the weekend, too. If plans carry, Middle Daughter will be back home on Monday night. How much more of a diversion could a gal want?

Methinks it will serve me well.