And nothing but the truth.
At the insistence of family and friends, I'm coming clean about my recent "accident" which was not caused during a fantastic skiing vacation in Aspen as I'd reported earlier. I'm warning you...you're going to be sorry you asked "what happened?!" This is, after all, an embarrassing tale of an unfortunate incident.
In an attempt to dash out the front door and capture photos of my daughter Tayler's surprise expression when she saw her car covered in graduation well wishes, I twisted an ankle and ended up like a pretzel on the cold, hard concrete in front of my mother-in-law's house. A visit to the ER and two X-rays later, I was given the news: broken ankles. To boot, there was another casualty in the crash landing: my Canon digital camera.
The story is unexciting, sad, and even a little pathetic as the accident happened at the beginning of our 2nd day on vacation in Seattle, AND I had to attend Tayler's graduation (the whole reason for our trip) in a wheelchair, a walking boot, a splint, and oversize pants...instead of my cute dress and peep-toe sandals. A shout out to my sister-in-law, Robin, who at least dressed up my chariot with a "Yield to the Princess" pink, glittery bumper sticker.
But every cloud has a silver lining...I enjoyed the buzz of Vicodin, Washington microbrews (I'm sure not driving anywhere soon!), and the company of loving family and friends caring for me. At the end of the day, if time and money can fix it, it's all good, right?
Back at home, my amazing colleagues hooked me up with UM's chief of orthopedic trauma who decided against surgery, following an MRI of the right ankle. He's going to leave the left ankle to heal on its own (the floating bone fragment seems nothing to worry about, so I won't). I'm off my feet and will be good as new in 6 to 12 weeks. For now, I'm spending many hours on the recliner getting acquainted with Showtime's Nurse Jackie and HBO's True Blood.
See, I told you my fib was the way to go...what a lame way to break anything, let alone something that's left me mostly dependent on others for several weeks during the hot, humid Miami summer!
However, I now know this much is true: I know who I can count on, including my devoted husband. People want to rise to the occasion, so I let them. I can follow, instead of lead. The house won't fall apart because I can't keep up with it. My son can roll with the punches and won't be forever scarred by watching me be "less than" my own version of "perfect." My patience is growing thick. Work can wait.
And this is how I roll.