My ordeal

The other night Mike and I were at our friend's house and on the way out of their apartment I slipped down a couple of stairs and sprained my ankle. OK, I was slightly intoxicated but it was my slippery shoes that caused the fall. When I fell I landed on all fours and I felt this rush of," Oh, no, I can't believe this is happening, I broke my ankle." When something traumatic happens one of two things inevitable follows. Either I throw up or I pass out or both. A couple of years ago I was in an apartment complex with my best friend since childhood and her mother and sister who have all been like family since I was three. We were laughing it up when all of the sudden the mother missed the last few stairs and broke her ankle in the most horrible way. Even now as the picture of her mangled foot appears in my mind I feel queasy and must not let myself continue to picture it. Anyway, as I was on the floor her broken foot flashed in my mind and I was sure mine must have looked the same. I felt the familiar dizziness that comes right before I pass out and therefore crawled out the door hoping the night air would help me to feel a little better. Then the familiar nausea hit and I crawled closer to the edge of the steps and puked over the side...several times. Mike, being the wonderful husband he is, held my hair back and tried to console me. He looked at my ankle and said that we should go to the hospital because he thought it might be broken. He helped me to the car and I was getting in when my ankle gave out again and I felt excruciating pain. I felt for sure that if it hadn't been broken before, it now was. Mike drove quickly, yet safely to the hospital. When we got to the emergency room he wheeled me in and I answered the questions at triage. This was all at about 1:00am. As I was wheeled to the back I had this weird rush of happiness. I don't know why I felt happy but the thought of , "yay, I am getting attention " past through my mind. I immediately felt ashamed that I was happy to be getting attention. I mean, how pathetic is that? Mike gives me a ton of attention and so do my family and friends. I mean, what am I , an attention whore? It was like I couldn't get enough. Anyway, that whole thought process happened in about 30 seconds and then I was right back into feeling like I was going to pass out and puke again. Just when I thought I had a handle on things we heard some guy screaming, "help! Help me. Somebody HELP!" there was a bit of a commotion and I heard some nurses say something that made me think either this guy was obviously on drugs or he was a regular loony who wasn't really in trouble. Either way it freaked me out and I puked again. Mike agreed that it was freaky. Anyway, everytime I puked mike held my hair and rubbed my back. I kept thinking how wonderful of a husband he is. I mean, there was a moment when he was helping me in the bathroom and let's just say if that the fact that he isn't still repulsed at the sight of me shows that he loves me a lot. I also had another realization of how gracious God is as well. My ankle wasn't broken and we were only in the emergency room for about 2 1/2 hours , which anyone who has been to christiana knows is a miracle. Even if it is life threatening they usually have you wait for three hours before you are seen. It truly was a miracle. so now, I have a huge, bruised and swollen ankle and the rest of my body hurts from the fall. I have sworn off alcohol and my shoes that are slippery. I thank God for his goodness and for Michael.
SO, that is my ordeal.