Maybe you’ve been wondering where I’ve been. Maybe not. We’ve all got our own shit going on in this pandemic, I get it. I really fucking do. But in case you were wondering, I fell…again. Ooops. And in true, Debi fashion, I didn’t just fall. I fell in a way that not only ended with me having a concussion but a broken middle toe, at the proximal. I mean who the fuck breaks their middle toe. There are 4 other motherfucking toes protecting it. And it’s not like I have long toes. I’ve got sturdy ass Flintstone toes.
I never dreamt my real life would be a TikTok trend.
Oh No, Oh No, Oh no, no, no, no, no. That’s what I heard when my pinky toe caught the cord of my MacBook Air. And you thought being a writer wasn’t dangerous work. Pfft. You haven’t met me. I can even make stepping off a curb deadly. Not silent. I cried like a baby. But real fucking deadly. It was one of those moments in life, I’ve had a few; when you know something is put into motion that you cannot stop. That moment of sheer terror and uncontrollability.
I’m just going to give you a play by play because, seriously, if I had watched in on TikTok with that damn “Oh no” sound that I favorited, it would have been epic. It would have been so epic that I would have probably been crying from laughter but as it were, it was real life and happening to me so all I can do is be thankful that it wasn’t worse than it was.
I had been working all day on work deadlines and it was the last week of my Social Media Marketing class; there was a final project on the line. The Big Guy picked up dinner so I could work. He had just walked through the door and yelled upstairs that dinner was there. I was thrilled because I hadn’t stopped to eat all day. In my excitement to relieve my hangry headache, I jumped off my bed and promptly caught my pinky toe of my right foot on my laptop cord. That was the moment I knew shit was definitely going to go sideways. Know how I knew? Well, if you remember correctly, in 2015 it was my right leg that was the Judas who betrayed me and took out my left leg. Also, on that day, I also had not eaten. Apparently, hunger and walking is not a combination I have yet mastered.
Back to the story, my pinky toe reached out and grabbed hold of the cord. I lost my balance. To my right was a bookshelf, to my left the sharp corner of my bed, in front of me ( to my right) a movable hanging chair with a basket full of clean not put away laundry, an opened door, (to my left) 2 more baskets of paired socks and more, you guessed it, laundry. #momlife
As my life was flashing before my eyes and the “oh No” TikTok sound played in my head, I had a true red wire, blue wire moment and I had about 3 seconds to decide which extremity I was willing to sacrifice to the broken mom gods. In the end, fear made me hesitate and, long story slightly shorter, my head broke the fall. Well, that’s not entirely true. My middle toe broke the fall down and my head broke the fall forward once the Benedict Arnold hanging chair betrayed me and swerved when I fell with outstretched arm (that was at the time already being treated for bicep and rotator cuff tendonitis) and kept right on falling.
Still with me? Pinky toe plotted with a laptop cord to murder me. Lost balance. Started to fall, reached for help towards the hanging chair only to be rejected and fall through the chair. Topple towards the left. Definitely did not want to re-break left leg. Nope. Didn’t want to re- dislocate left arm. Re-breaking right arm wasn’t appealing so I fell down. Broke middle toe at proximal. Heard it crunch under the weight of my body. Yep, insult to injury #1. Then, fell forward with the full force of 220 pounds headfirst into the side of the door. Then insult to injury #2, the aforementioned basket of clothes fell on top of me. Immediately, a bump the size of a softball popped up on my head. I now, looked like Frankenstein’s ugly cousin, as was obvious by my lopsided Fivehead. I also accrued multiple scrapes and bruises in the fall. More importantly, my toe was making a crunching sound and I couldn’t walk on it. We thought maybe it was jammed so I proceeded to pull on it. Yep, I’m the idiot. Spoiler alert; it wasn’t jammed, it was broken. Or maybe it was jammed and I broke it by pulling on it with a concussion.
You’d think that was enough excitement for one night right? Nope. This is the gift that keeps giving. I am still sporting a putrid green vomit colored bruised on my entire left side of my forehead. I’m heading back to the orthopedic surgeons tomorrow to check on healing because we found a surprise cyst in my toe bone that needs to be monitored. LUCKY. Aren’t you jealous? On top of all of that, guess who is back in physical therapy for that newly reinjured rotator cuff and bicep tendonitis. Because you know the place a diabetic most wants to be during a global pandemic? Obviously, every doctor’s office ever so I can be exposed to as many germs of possible during cold and flu season. Anyway, that was my November. Of course, there was also an auto accident in which my husband’s SUV was completely totaled and he ended up in the ER not once but twice for injuries including a concussion. Yep, we’re the concussion couple; our poor children. Fucking 2020, I hate you.