Nick broke his ankle yesterday. He tripped. We caught him and eased him to the floor. He said he was ok, so we went on with our day. He seemed a bit unsteady, but that is a common thing for him lately. We increased our support with tranfers. Hours later, after his weekly massage, he crumpled down as we were helping him off the table. Again we caught him, and got him into his bed. His ankle was a little bit swollen and we decided it needed to be x-rayed. It has a chip of bone broken off. He has a splint, and he is not to weight bear on that ankle and we are to take him to an Orthopedic Surgeon. It was a lot to take in when the ER doc was talking to us.
Nick looked at the doctor and said, “You fix this?” He explained that we were going to see another doctor who would help. Not satisfied, Nick turned to me and said, “Mom, you fix this?”
I think that it is a common human response to want someone else to fix it when there is something that is looming large in our lives. This morning I woke up and wished that I could have my mom fix this. My sister and I laughed when we thought of our mom. My mom passed away almost 5 years ago. She would have been worried and she would have deeply cared, but she would have been useless to help with this. Still, inside me, when I woke up with the enormity of what lay ahead, I wanted someone to fix this, to take it all away, to make all the decisions. Basically I wanted to be the child again and have someone else be the adult.
I know that Arden and I will be able to do this. We will manage the increase care-giving load. We will reach out to family, friends and professionals to get the help that Nick needs and that we will need over the next 6 weeks. We know how to do this. We have experience. It’s just that in today’s early morning light, I really did wish I had someone to fix this.
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