Give Yourself a Hug - How I Survived a Broken Leg
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About this ebook
People survive a broken leg.
I did.
Surprising to me was not how long the leg took to heal, but all the other things that went with the healing. All the things I needed to do while in the cast and then out of it. No one tells you these things and how much work you'll need to do.
Your emotions can be all over the place. There are ups and downs. Some funny times and not so fun times. The broken leg affects everything thing you do in your daily life, and it affects the people around you.
That said, let others help you. They want to. Trust me on that.
So, be strong and work hard.
When things get tough, don't forget to
Give yourself a hug.
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Give Yourself a Hug - How I Survived a Broken Leg - Gisele Collette Pozark
Intro
PEOPLE SURVIVE BROKEN legs. Why write this book? I was sitting in a hospital with not much else to do. There was only so much physical therapy to do, TV to watch, and books to read. I was not good at being dependent, and my emotions were all over the place. The rational side of my brain knew things would be okay and there would be light at the end of the tunnel. The emotional and irrational side of my brain couldn’t quite see that light.
I figured I’d write about my experiences. A diary of what I was thinking and feeling. Things I learned, some self-introspection, taking stock, and what things, I could do for myself in the future.
Why title this Give Yourself a Hug
?
It’s not a bad idea. Who loves you better than you? To tell yourself it’s okay and things get better. In time, they usually do.
Give Yourself a Hug, or, How I Survived a Broken Leg
The Fall(s)
ALL OF OUR EXPERIENCES in life, good or bad, frame who we are. We grow and learn and hopefully become better versions of ourselves. Cliché, I know, but it’s the truth.
Friday, January 6th, 2017, started off like any other New England day. There was a light snow on the ground and I thought I’d leave early for work. Mostly because people forget how to drive in the snow. We hadn’t had much snow this year, and traffic tends to be slower. I left my apartment building fully loaded for the day with my rolling computer bag, my much-too-heavy purse, and my lunch.
There was ample outside parking. When you leave the building, there’s a rotary. If you think of a wheel, then the parking areas are the spokes off that rotary. Outside of that, is a road that not only services our building but is sometimes used by people who work in the office park directly behind this parking area. Beyond this road was additional parking. That’s where my car was parked.
I’m wearing rubber-soled boots. Even rubber-soled boots are no match for the clear, large patch of ice under the newly fallen snow. My legs went right out from under me, and I know I’m hurt. I’ve often been told that I have a high tolerance for pain, so if I do hurt, then something is definitely wrong. My ankle throbs and needs medical attention.
My next thought was I’m in the middle of the road, get up, and out of the road. The morning light was just beginning to somewhat brighten the day, and I was wearing all black. I need to get out of the road before I get biffed by a car or maybe a snow plow. I try standing, but that’s not happening. I’ve wrenched my knee as well, so I can’t weight bear on the knee. I want to crawl and get out of the road.
My husband was at home today, so I pulled out my cell phone to call him.
And here comes a truck.
When I leave for the day, I’m often in the elevator with a gentleman who works for an electrical company. What luck that it was he in the truck. I lift my phone, so he can see its light and me sitting on the ground. He stops to help. I am five feet seven and I will never be accused of being a small woman. I was too heavy and dead, freaking weight for anyone to lift. I can’t use any of my right leg. My left leg is okay and strong enough, so are my arms, but the lower back is weak. There is no way I was getting up on my own. One man trying to get me up from the ground was not going to happen. I was sure he’s a sturdy man, but if picking up people or weight is not what you do for a living, then picking me off the ground will be difficult. Another gentleman also comes to help, but to no avail. I think I was afraid I’ll hurt myself more. I need to get out of the road. The first gentleman asks if he can get my car. He can put my bags in the car and maybe I can climb into the passenger seat. Sounds good to me.
I was often asked why I didn’t call 9-1-1 right away. Honestly, all I could think about was that I was in the road and I needed to get out of the road, so I wouldn’t be hit by a car, truck, or plow. My first reaction was flight. Remove myself from a potentially dangerous situation. I was trying to crawl on my hands and one good knee to get to a safer place and out of the way of on-coming traffic. Why didn’t one of the two gentleman call 9-1-1? They were trying to help me up off the cold ice and snow I was sitting on. They have no idea of the extent of my injury. Neither do I, but I was pretty sure that putting weight on the right leg may make the injury worse.
While gentleman one was getting my car, I ask gentleman two to use his phone. Of course, my phone went into my bags currently being loaded into my car. Like most, my cell phone was programmed with the numbers. I didn’t need to know the number to dial it. Just need to push the button. That I remember my home phone was good. I didn’t often call myself and usually give out my cell phone number to people.
My husband was sleeping when I left, but he’d be another pair of hands. I hope my husband will answer the home phone on his night stand. I was not sure if