Are you @#%^ing kidding me?

People think I am an overachiever. I work a lot, I volunteer a lot, I work out a lot, I socialize a lot, I have several degrees, I've changed careers, I have a couple of books published, triathlons, half-marathons... okay, I am an overachiever. I didn't used to be. I used to be a super-slack-tastic party animal but once I graduated from my undergrad degree and started working I got really ambitious. So, I went from slacker party girl to over-achieving party girl. It's fitting, then, that I spectacularly broke my ankle at a party. A Halloween party no less. In the best costume I've ever worn on my favorite holiday.

I didn't just break this bitch, either. I broke, dislocated, and tore ligaments to the point that I had to have surgery. 8 pins and a plate later, I am in a non-weight bearing cast for two months. And, I did this exactly four days after I was able to start running again from my last surgery. Talk about over-achieving! This couldn't be just a simple break that I could wear a walking cast or boot on. I'm in a 1960's era Frankenstein-footed plaster cast that weighs as much as my 5 year old nephew.Go big or go home, right?

Sorry for the requisite, gratuitous, swollen, busted up, disgusting ankle pic. Yes, that red spot is where my bone almost popped out. Ew. Ick. Cringe.

So, back to the Halloween party. I dressed up as a Roller Derby Chick, alias Veruca Assault, in a costume I made, wearing legit Roller Derby skates I bought on Amazon. I was a bad ass. I wish I was this bad ass in real life but that's what Halloween is for. (on that note: so why do so many women dress as sluts and men dress as women...anywhoo...). I even used makeup to give myself a black eye and body bruises over my fake tattoos. Did I mention overachieving?

Yeah, I know. Bad ass.

Icing my fake black eye with a Budweiser. Who's classy? This was fun to explain in the Emergency Room by the way.

As my darling husband and I were leaving the house, I said, "This is probably really dumb. The last thing I need is a broken ankle, ha ha ha." Oh, if this was literature this would be lovely foreshadowing. I don't believe in jinxing and that nonsense so before you tsk tsk tsk at me, I didn't bring this on by saying it.

We were at my neighbor's house at a very fun party. I had barely had a couple of drinks and as I was rolling out of the kitchen and looked back to kiss my adorable hubs, down I went and underneath and backwards went my foot. Snap went the ankle.

Busting out of my stripy tights. By the way, I was the only asshole in a Halloween costume in the Emergency Room. Can you believe that?

Denial. Ice. Emergency room. Ice. Splint. Ice. Painkillers. Elevated. Ice. Surgery. Elevated. Ice. Sitting on my ass. That's how the story ends for now. I am in a non-weight-bearing cast until the end of December. There is hope though! Next week I have an appointment to get my stitches out and hopefully get a waterproof cast so I can swim with the pull buoy. I am working on a getting a knee-walker (I know you're jealous) so that I can get around better and thankfully it's my left leg so I can drive eventually, when I go from Franken-cast to waterproof cast.Then I can do weights, and non-weight-bearing exercises until I can start running and doing bootcamp again.

Frankencast after voting. I waited in line for 45 minutes on my crutches with my husband as was more worn out than I was after the half-marathon.

Because I don't work at a desk, I am off work until the end of November and will go back to work December third. Rolling with my homies on my knee walker.

Behold my future. The knee-walker. Jealous?

I'll probably blog more since I all sorts of time on my hands, which if I think about it, really is a gift. I never have time so this is my silver lining. That, along with the fact that this is temporary, I did not hit my head, I have the most amazing husband who is taking the best care of me along with our families and friends who have rallied and helped us so incredibly much. I will keep finding the silver lining and try not to take too many pictures of my cats, eat too much, or go too psychotic.

The day after the accident. Fake tattoos, purple hair and all. Why is "I'm sexy and I know it" playing in my head?

 

 

Okay, these are the only picture of my cats I'll post. Because I have about 10,000 of them. Hey, I don't have anything else to do and they're cute, dammit. That, and they haven't left my side since I did this.

Fiona, protesting my leaving for surgery by camping in my overnight bag.

Tripod doing his best to make it all better.

Til next time. xo