Broken

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So yesterday, I was singing snow’s praise.

That’s all in the past.

Now I give it shit, which is alas only a way of speaking (you’ll understand the joke at the end).

What’s the reason behind this sudden turnaround? Because in the unequal fight that happened yesterday between my backside and the snowed stairs of my building, the final score was:

Stairs: 1 – My butt: 0

I literally did bust my ass. Or more precisely the 4th sacral vertebra (right above the coccyx in fact). Not only did it break but it moved as well. It should considerably postpone my recovery, which is estimated to 3 months, best case scenario.

This past Monday was indeed a very nice day. After that memorable fall on the way to school with Rose, I first thought it would go away. “It”? The feeling of having been put on a spit, no more no less. So I somehow dropped Rose off in her classroom and went back home walking like I dried on a horse.

I hadn’t cried with pain since my childbirth but I made up for lost time.

After calling my brother for help, he for once didn’t advise me to see a shrink and I went for an X-ray of my buttocks together with my twins, of whom most teachers are off sick, which for once seemed fairly good news, since going out on my own was simply not doable.

I didn’t have much doubts as for the results, I felt on my bum often enough to be able to identify in my pain something else than a good old bruise.

My feeling was soon enough confirmed by the receptionist, who cried out after seeing the x-ray «Oh gosh, she didn’t botch, it’s properly broken»

« With all this snow you see loads of kids with broken wrist, don’t you? », I say to distract attention from my broken ass displayed on the wall. “No, mainly elderly actually», she replied, with a knowing look. This reply made my son die laughing, he was moreover totally excited to be able to see a real life fracture especially in an uncommon place.”

My daughter, trying to comfort me, hastened to tell that I’ll get well soon and that there must be a solution to fix me. “Not so sure, you know after a certain age, bones take time to heal” he corrected her immediately (he will not go to England this summer as planned, he can dream on). “You’ll want to eat yogurt mum” he went on in front of the receptionist in high spirits.

We went back home,so-so, with only one advice from the radiologist : buy a rubber ring. I thought I had been spared from this kind of festivities thanks to c-section. Apparently God had other plans for me.

And not only a rubber ring a priori.

Because, when he came back from work, The Churros decided I couldn’t stay like this without seeing a doctor. Here he is, calling emergency medical services. They choke when they learn I’ve been walking around since this morning with a vertebra out gallivanting and sent me directly to the closest ER.

I will avoid detailing the joyful atmosphere of that big hospital in this season.

After three excruciating hours on a plastic chair, cursing my dear husband for not letting me dying on my couch, I’ve been finally seen by a dark-haired doctor. Aka the orthopedic specialist who, what a surprise, was not twelve.

First, Dr Torres’ male twin basically explained to me that there is nothing much to do. But he corrected himself right away and wanted to check that the vertebra displacement didn’t cause any neurological damages.

Even with my medical education – eleven seasons of ER, nine of Grey’s Anatomy and the complete series of Dr. House, I can diagnose a lupus with my eyes closed – I didn’t see it coming.

The “DRE”.

I understood the meaning of this acronym when he walked the talk, lifting his little finger in a manner that didn’t call into question as per where the said finger was planning to take a stroll immediately. Good news was he lifted his little finger could have been the middle one (2013 is the positive thinking year).

Initially I laughed, thinking that the guy, feeling we had affinities, was cracking a joke.

I will not leave any suspense, he was not joking.

On the bright side, a priori, I am not suffering from collateral effects of this kind of accident.

Loose anal sphincter (Think positive).

Bad news is I am going to enjoy two weeks of laxative, on the grounds that, it’s not going to be a piece of cake on that side. No kidding!

Well and if, on the contrary, I start to experience the slightest incontinence, do not hesitate to come back immediately.

Or how to become bedridden within one day.

Honestly, I did love this 21st of January.

Here you go, I’m leaving now. This note has been written in a position decency forces me not to describe. Not sure I’ll come here often in the next few days, my ass is kind of wrecked right now.

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