Mother Nature Intercedes ~ Part 1

I tend to think that sometimes life gives us signs.  If we listen to them, we might get a warning of some kind.  If we don’t listen, then we miss the warning that Mother Nature, in her infinite wisdom, has chosen to impart on us.

One of these signs that I get repeatedly every so often, has to do with motion.  Either I will go through periods where I get a flat tire on my car every week for a month or so, or I will go through a period where I am injured enough to get me to slow down.

If I listen to the signs, I often realize that Mother Nature is simply trying to get me to slow down.  These things happen to me when I am running fast and wild with so much on my mind that I don’t stop to catch my breath, or to take care of myself.  That’s when She steps in to slow me down.

I’ve had some foot injuries that have slowed me enough to make me get in bed for a few days and stay there. 

One such time happened many years ago when I was a PTA mom.  I had three children at two different schools.  I was a single mom.  I was also on a number of committees at the School Board.  The Powers That Be had found out that I was one of those “Can’t Say No-ers” so they tapped my shoulder for every committee they could, including the Parents of Gifted Children Advisory Committee, the Bilingual Parents’ Advisory Committee, and a host of other committees.
On one particular Tuesday morning, I was running around getting myself ready for a noon PTA meeting.  I hate wearing shoes so I was running around the house barefoot.  When I stepped to the sink, I felt a sharp stab in the bottom of my right foot, near the heel.  I finished what I was doing at the sink and limped away.  In the bathroom I put my foot up to see what was going on.  There was some blood and I could feel something in my foot and something sticking out of my foot.  It was a piece of glass.  No one had broken any glass in the kitchen in months and months and months so I didn’t know where it had come from.  I tried to get it out but I couldn’t get a firm grasp on it.  I cleaned up the blood and the area as much as I could and headed for the PTA meeting.  I was PTA President that year and I had to start the meeting.  So off I went, walking on tip toes so I wouldn’t push the glass further into my heel.  One of the other moms at the meeting, Kathy, was a nurse and always carried a few “tools of the trade” with her so I was sure I could get Kathy to get the glass out of my foot at the end of the meeting.  One problem, Kathy didn’t go to the meeting.  So I went through the entire PTA meeting then picked up my morning kindergartener and took her to lunch before heading home.  All this was done with me walking on tip toes.

My next thought was that when my son got home from high school that afternoon, I would get him to dig the glass out of my heel.  I stayed in bed with my foot elevated that afternoon until my son got home.  He liked doing stuff like digging in Mom’s foot.  He tried to get the glass out but couldn’t.  He kept trying and each time I was in more and more pain.  Finally, I realized that this was not going to work and it was about four in the afternoon.  The doctor was still open.  I called the doctor’s office and they took me in right away.  The doctor confirmed that I indeed had a “foreign body” in my foot and sent me to the orthopaedic surgeon’s office because it was too deep for my GP to try to get it out.
At the surgeon’s office, he took the x-rays necessary to confirm the location of the “foreign body” and called the insurance company to ask for an “emergency” authorization for surgery on my foot to remove the piece of glass.  Apparently, it was too far in for him to do it in the office.  He would have to do it at the hospital under general anesthesia.   He sent me home to wait for the authorization and said it should come in on Wednesday some time.  In the meantime, I was to stay off of my foot.  Right.  Three kids.  Single mom.  No help.  Only driver.  Right.  I’m gonna stay off my foot!

The next day I didn’t hear from the surgeon’s office and I called them in the afternoon.  They had not gotten the authorization for the “emergency surgery” so they called again and asked me to lay low while we waited for the insurance to decide I didn’t have to spend the rest of my life with a piece of glass in my foot.  I tried.  On Thursday there was still no word from the insurance.  By then I blew up and called the insurance myself.  I let them know that this was indeed an emergency and that I was a single mom with three kids and I could not wait.  I had to get on with my responsibilities and their hesitation to authorize the surgery meant that my foot might get infected and become more of an emergency for them.  I also reminded them that I am a diabetic that should be given immediate care for injuries of the extremities.  I also reminded them that the insured was my ex-husband who is an attorney.  I hung up and within the hour I got the call from the surgeon’s office letting me know that the authorization had just been faxed to them.

Now the tricky part was getting an open Operating Room.  They were booked solid.  The first time available was at midnight on Friday/Saturday.  The doctor had told the hospital that it could not wait even hours so he was operating on my foot at that late hour.  I had to check into Outpatient Surgery by ten on Friday night.  I had sent the kids to their father’s house for the weekend.  My friend Kathy drove me.  She couldn’t stay because she is also a single mom and had her two children at home.  I went into surgery at almost one in the morning on Saturday and came to in the Recovery Room at about four in the morning.  Because there was no one to get me, they kept me in the Outpatient Surgery Room for the rest of the morning until they could get my friend on the phone.

I arrived home, groggy from the general anesthesia and the pain medication for the foot and on crutches at about noon on Saturday.  I spent the rest of the day in bed.  Kathy checked on me that night and brought me food and made sure I had everything I needed before she left again.  The next day, Sunday, she came again and the kids got their father to bring them home early because they were anxious to see that Mom was okay.  With them home, I was set.  We were all together again and they were taking care of me.

Mother Nature had succeeded in getting me to slow down.  Mission Accomplished.