Father's Day Fun

On Saturday while I was finishing up my Father's Day shopping for my sweetie and my pops.

I got this text from the Mr. 

Earlier that morning he had been telling me that he needed a new pair of Sanuk's (for those of you that don't know, Sanuks are possibly the best summer shoe ever for beach-bum-wannabes like my husband and boys).

So at first glance I thought he was showing me the rip in his shoe to prove to me that he really does need a new pair (& he does). But then I noticed that righty looked a little off and that his naturally thin ankle kinda looked like my ankle when I'm 7 months, okay more like 6 months ;), pregnant.

By the time he got home from work his ankle was even bigger and just looking at it made my stomach churn and I felt that familiar dizziness that encompasses me when I see any sort of bodily injury. (Honestly, the only time I truly struggle with being a mom is when one of my boys gets hurt and I'm the only one there to put them back together. I get sick, dizzy, and can't catch my breath...and that is just when they scratch their knee. It is going to be an interesting 18 years.)

So he puts it up, ices it and hopes that it will feel better. It doesn't. This is man who has no fear of pain and has spent his whole life happily sacrificing his body for the thrill and fun of life. He has broken countless bones, has twisted and torn everything that can possibly be twisted or torn, has more little random scars on his one hand then my {cautious} sibling and I have on our whole bodies combined. It is insane how the possibility of pain never stops him from doing something fun. When I was a kid I wouldn't even walk on the curb because I wouldn't want to chance falling those steep 3 inches to the cement below.  I tell you this to emphasize the point that this man knows pain, knows how his body reacts to different injuries and doesn't become over dramatic and babyish when he gets hurt.

As his ankle got worse and worse over the next few hours he knew it wasn't a typical ankle twist. And by the next morning it was turning black and was at least 4 times bigger (I'm dry heaving as I think about it). At this point he has no idea if it is broken or sprained but he does know that it hurts like hell and it is worse than he would like to admit.

After a fun (for us) and painful (for him) Father's Day, I talked him into going to the ER (I may have promised milkshakes afterwards). I couldn't imagine moving on with the week without knowing exactly what was going on and having a game plan to help him heal as quickly as possible.

After we got checked in to the hospital we had a bit of a wait until he was able to get in for X-rays. All the nurses and doctors there instantly fell in love with Mr. Swollen Ankle. People always do. He is naturally quite charming without even realizing it. So the whole time we had people in our little "room" made of sheets just kind of hanging out with us. They were serving me drinks as if I were out to eat and telling jokes like I was at a comedy club, on amateur night. Who knew the ER could be so much fun?

The final verdict. MAJOR and deep sprain. He has to wear a boot when he walks and keep it elevated as much as possible while "icing the hell" out of it. Doctors orders. He was given a note saying he cannot go to work or school, but how do you miss school during finals week? You don't. So he took the next few days off work and is taking it as easy as possible.

And I am *lucky enough* to get the job of driving Miss Daisy, I mean driving him around.

 

Here he is wearing his little boot this morning when I dropped him off at school. (& I use the word little very loosely).

If this was a video you would hear him say... "Meg, hurry this is embarrassing". 

Hopefully he feels better soon! He has a 100 mile charity bike ride planned next month, we have a fun swimming party we are supposed to go to this coming up weekend and we were hoping to go backpacking in a few weeks.