We spent six hours in the ER in what can only be described as a prison cell. We were placed in one of the rooms they save for “difficult patients;” no windows, locked cabinets, plastic chairs, used bedding, and strap tie downs bolted to the floor. I can’t think of a more romantic way to spend Valentine’s Day. We actually got quite a kick out of it.
We had reservations with friends for dinner that night and despite everything, we didn’t want to back out. It was Valentine’s Day after all and Troy still had to eat, injury or not. We swung by the ER and picked him up on the way to dinner. He hobbled into the nice restaurant on crutches, drugged on pain meds and still in his sweatpants. It doesn’t get much classier than that.
It wasn’t until late that night, after finally bringing our kind sitter back home and driving to a faraway 24-hour pharmacy to pick up Troy’s meds, that I came to a full realization about what the next 2.5 months would entail. I had a little pity party/meltdown when it occurred to me that not only was I losing any help I ever got around the house or with the boys, but I was also gaining an additional person to take care of. Four boys all of a sudden seemed like so many people to be responsible for, and the weight was completely on my shoulders.
I’m not going to lie – this last week has been a serious trial. Our six year old is now more capable than Troy. He can actually carry the baby, dress himself, make a simple meal, get his own drink and fetch items around the house.
Mealtime is a joke. I run around the table serving everyone, continuously cutting up tiny pieces of food for Crew and giving seconds and drink refills to everyone else. I usually don’t eat until everyone else has left the table. And for some reason, the massive kitchen clean-ups three times a day are killing me. I can’t even leave the floor unswept because Crew will crawl around and shove every last morsel of food into his mouth.
And then there’s bedtime. Troy used to help with the older boys while I fed Crew. Now it’s all on me, and once I get everyone down, I want to crash myself. It’s a daunting feeling to wake up every morning knowing I have to do it all over again.
But this is all far from being about me, challenging or not. I’m sure that I’ll adjust to the new set of responsibilities and thankfully it’s only temporary.
Troy has been in so much pain and has to deal with the added pressure of feeling helpless and wondering how in the world he’s going to get back to work. He broke his right leg, so even if he feels up to working in a few weeks, he won’t be able to drive himself unless he learns to drive with his left foot.
His surgery went well. The surgeon made an eight inch incision into his leg and added a plate and 5 screws. The surgery took three hours and they kept him overnight in the hospital to recover.