By Barbara Falconer Newhall
Jon’s got a broken ankle — and a torn deltoid ligament. Life has ground to a halt for him. And for me. The orthopedic surgeon who stitched the ligament back in place says absolutely no weight is to be put on that foot for at least four weeks, maybe six — well into and past the holiday season.
Jon gets around with a wheelchair and a knee walker. But he doesn’t go very far. That means I’ve been doing a lot of running around since that fateful evening when — we think — Jon stepped on his own shoelace at a family dinner and yanked his foot so hard trying to get it loose that he broke one bone and displaced another.
Big life lesson: if you notice that your shoelace is untied, stop and tie it.
My Life With His Broken Ankle
I’m not spending much time at my computer these days. Hardly any writing. Not much emailing. I’m doing more important things. Like fetching a bottle of cabernet and a wine glass for Jon. Taking him stamps and envelopes so he can pay bills. Helping him search for his cell phone, which keeps disappearing under the covers of the hospital bed I’ve rigged up for him in the den. Doing the chores that Jon normally does. The grocery shopping. The cooking.
Soooo. If you experience radio silence on this blog over the next few weeks, it’s because I’m doing my wifey thing. I’m taking care of my husband. That means I’m exhausted. And grumpy. I shout at my husband a lot. Sometimes he just thanks me for doing stuff for him. Sometimes he shouts back. That’s how it works when one person is laid up and the other is frazzled. Just so you know.
Meanwhile, keep your shoelaces tied.