Home. I love home. Though, now I'm home with a broken arm. Honestly, it's not that bad. The only thing I can't do with my busted wing is make espresso from the la Pavoni. So, every morning, I get espresso made for me. Yummy.
Since being home, my family and friends have been so thoughtful and supportive of my injury. Friends and family have visited me, run errands for me, made me dinners, put my hair in numerous pony tails, taken me out for coffee, hiked with me, sent me an edible bouquet of fruit, etc. The list goes on and on and I really feel loved and cared for. I'm so appreciative of all that has been done for me.
On Tuesday, I went to the doctor for a follow up visit. They took x-rays and said all looks good. Here you can see the staples.
They took my cast off and sent me home with a sweet new removable split that I will be in for the next 5 weeks. This cast, gigantic as it felt, was only 1.3 lbs.
Once the cast was off, and I saw my arm, it hit me. Oh fuck, I'm injured. And injured BAD. I cried for the first time about the sadness of it all. Poor arm, poor body. I just put another big scar on it. I have shit loads of PT ahead of me, and I will not be riding my bike outside until at least June.
2 days later, it snowed, my Mom visited me, and I, for the first time, took the bus from Nederland to FasCat. All this has made me happy again, and I feel lucky to have what I do and to be able to the things I am doing now: walking, hiking, coaching, laughing and being loved.
And playing with dogs who get to play in the snow (who then bring " fur snow balls" into the house to melt all over the floor).