The Phone Call That Changed My Life....

Right after the 1996 Summer Olympic Games I needed a change of pace.  Atlanta had been in the spotlight since 1990 when the Games were awarded and for those years we had all been gearing up for what was to come.

At the conclusion of the Olympics there was a tremendous let down, sadness and depression throughout the city.  There was a feeling of now what?  I had the same feeling on a more personal level. 

Working in the special events industry, the Olympics were the epitome of a career for most people, here I was at 32 thinking, ok, what now?  I needed a new adventure.

For years I had held a love affair with the beach.  Immediately after the Games I took a trip to Florida, by myself just to unwind.  What I found in Florida was the beginning of my "now what" because within weeks I was packing my bags and moving to sunny South Florida, West Palm Beach to be exact.

The beginning of this adventure was going to be huge, I was moving to a place where I knew no one.  I would either thrive or fumble on my own. 

I had gotten a piddly job working for a catering company to help me find my way.  I hated working at the catering company, but loved south Florida, I knew that once I found a job I could enjoy I would be set.

A couple of months after my arrival, mama, daddy and gramps came for a visit to see my new home.  A few months later mama and daddy came again, they could tell I was happy here and even though it was too far from God's Country for their taste they were supportive of my move.

At the end of June I had gathered up enough days to take a vacation.  I packed my bags, hopped a plane and headed home, to see my family.  The plan was to spend the Fourth of July holiday with family and then come back to WPB for work...... that was "the plan!"

It had been a while since I had been to God's Country and not long after I arrived mama told me she had one job she needed me to do while I was home.  I told her of course and she said that "one of the screens had come off the upstairs window and she needed me to put it back on."  Simple enough.

The next day, July 1st I decided it was time to re-attach the screen.  Mama and daddy didn't have a ladder and I decided I didn't need on.  Without saying anything to anyone, I went into the upstairs bathroom, opened the window and climbed out onto the roof.

I put the screen back into place and then it happened.  I felt myself slipping, when I began slipping I jumped.  When I hit the ground I landed on both feet, but immediately knew something was wrong from the pop I heard when I landed.

Intense pain surged through my body and all I could do was yell for daddy.

Mama first and then daddy made their way to the front lawn, finding me in a heap writhing in pain.  What did you do was their first question, their second question was WHY????

I let them know quickly that this wasn't the time for a long drawn out talk, we needed to get to the hospital pronto.  Daddy and I got into the car and made our way to the hospital, leaving mama at home to, well.... call everyone she knew to tell them that Ken was hurt.

By the time we made it to the emergency room, my foot was swollen and burning with pain.  I knew this was more than a sprain, this was something serious.  I had never had a broken bone, but was pretty sure I had one now.
Not long after daddy and I arrived at the hospital, Sam and mama made their way in.  After checking out my foot, the doctor told us his recommendation was for us to go to a Regional Hospital about 40 miles away as they could give me better care.

An ambulance was offered, but we decided to load me into the backseat of mama and daddy's Oldsmobile and head south.  By this time I had been given a shot for pain, so I was drifting, the backseat of the car as opposed to an ambulance was just fine with me.

We met a doctor at the Regional Hospital and he advised that I had broken my heel.  My heel???  Who breaks a heel?  Evidently I do!

Not only did I break it, the impact of me on the ground basically made my heel explode inside my body, it was in lots of pieces.

So now we know what is wrong, how do we fix it and fix it fast, I have to be back in WPB in less than a week.  As if my day wasn't already bad enough the doctor had some more news for me.

The swelling in my foot was so great that he couldn't do surgery until it had subsided, this meant I would be going home and icing my foot to get the swelling down.  Ok, ice the foot, we will see you tomorrow..... ummmm, NO..... we will see you on the 7th.  The 7th!?!?!?  That is a week away.

Yes, I would be coming back in one week for surgery.  The instructions from the doctor, keep my foot elevated and iced for a week.  Yes, iced for a week!

That is exactly what I did, for one week, day and night I kept ice on my foot.  I slept and lived on a sofa bed in the living room.  The 4th of July came and went, no fireworks for me and finally the morning of the 7th arrived.

Mama, daddy and I made our way to the hospital, surgery was scheduled for early afternoon.  I would be in the hospital for a day or so, depending on how well I did.

When we got to my assigned room, mama told the nurse that she would need a blanket as she would be staying in my room with me.  "Now mama that is silly, I am a grown man, I can stay here by myself, you go home with daddy."

My direction fell on deaf ears, mama was going to stay and I was just going to have to like it.

After surgery I woke up in the big hospital room.  I soon found out that the surgery was a success, I was now the recipient of a bone graft, 7 screws and a metal plate which made up my heel.

At some point during the night I woke up, in horrible pain.  The first face I saw was mama, she was bent over my bed, stroking my head, offering me water.... I was really glad she stayed!

The next morning the nurse came into my room bright and early, she advised me that I had to pee. 

I told her I didn't need to pee, and she advised me that my needs didn't matter, I HAD to pee. 

My bladder had not done anything since my surgery, she was getting off in an hour and she would be back in 30 minutes, if I had not pee'd she would insert a catheter and I WOULD pee.

I had never had a catheter, but I knew I didn't want one, so for the next few minutes I drank as much water as I could stand and eventually pee'd a few drops.

When she came back in she laughed and told me "I thought you would see it my way!"

In a couple of days I went home, back to the sleeper sofa.  My return to WPB had come and gone, now I was in recovery land on the sofa in my childhood living room for God only knew how long......

To Be Continued......

(Side Note, thank you all so much for the notes and gentle pushes in person you have given me to continue the Blog.  In all honesty, since mama died it has been a chore, but I am going to continue and thank you all for encouraging me to do so!)