Saturday, July 2, 2016

Pretty sure it's broken.

My big toe, that is.  On my right foot.  You know, the driving foot.

Yesterday morning I scrambled to make a grocery store run and pack up all the kids, make sure meals were planned, swimsuits, sunscreen, bug spray, sleeping bags and various other camping accouterment was ready.  Because yesterday was the first day of homeschool camping weekend, which has been one of our favorite family activities for the past 3 years.  Typically, I send them off to a campsite, roughly an hour away and then I join them with the baby in the morning, returning home in the evening so I can take care of a.m. and p.m. goat chores. 

I was so excited. 

They had all been shipped off (well, except for Cooper, obviously).

It was 6 p.m. Friday.

I decided to go out into the garage to search for a backpack so that while I was with Cooper in the Ergo on my front, I could easily carry my baby gear on my back.

My mistake was that I entered the garage barefoot.

Or maybe that I didn't notice the 2.5lb brick-sized transformer or transistor, or whatever the heck Rob told me the black-box-shaped-thingy-with-wires-hanging-off-it was that fell 5 feet, straight onto my foot, as I pulled out the backpack upon which it sat.

At first I thought, "Oh crap....that was really bad, but okay....it's going to be okay."  Until I started to feel nauseaus from the pain.  Whatever....it was just a smash... got in, assessed it...still hurts, but at this point Cooper needs to go to bed, so I go and nurse him with my foot starting to throb and put him to bed.

Goats need to be fed before the pain gets worse.....have to feed goats.  Just truck through it.  But, our 90 year old neighbor is out and of course he wants to bring 2 loads of vegetable scraps to the goats, so I need to help him, because he is, well, 90 years old.  At this point I am not limping....I guess I was pumped up on adrenaline...and this is good, because I did NOT want him to know that I was in pain or he would have tried to help me feed the goats.  *Goat feeding time can get pretty rambunctious!*  I did not want any more injuries for anyone!

While I am helping him, he tells me, "Angela, Robert picked a good wife to get all those kids ready for camping, and their clothes packed up and such.  You're a good wife."  That was so sweet of him, I think I was blushing....or else I was starting to get really hot because I thought I was going to pass out.  Might have been the pain creeping in.

I finish the chores and get inside and reassess and it doesn't look horrific!  You know, like if you googled "broken big toe", you would get all kinds of abominable looking toes.  And mine is just red, not really even swollen, but my nailbed is definitely black and awful looking.

I put my leg up and by 7pm I realize I need some ibuprofen because it is really starting to throb...it hurt enough that I could actually tell when the ibuprofen "hit" my system and started to take a tiny bit of the edge off.  I tried to go to bed around 10pm and the sheets on the bed hurt my toe.  So I went back out to the couch....it seemed like there was absolutely no position in which I could get comfortable.

I realized that I would not be joining the camping group the next morning.  I could barely limp to the kitchen for more ibuprofen.  How the heck was I going to traipse around a campsite, with roots and all, down to the lake, carrying a baby in the ergo when I could barely hobble to the kitchen?  Heck, I wouldn't trust myself to drive with that foot!

I started to let the disappointment sink in as I realized the situation.  Coupled with the guilt that I would be leaving my husband on a camping trip with 3 of the 4 kids....plus the pain of my toe.  Argh.  But as I thought about it, I realized that I needed to just accept it.  Accept the pain.  Heck, who am I to be whining about a broken toe when there are people with way harder and more painful situations at this very moment? Grow up, Angela!  This is an opportunity for God to work!

I finally got some sleep.

When I woke up in the night, I took it as an opportunity to pray for others.  To pray for the safety of the campers.  To pray for those who have turned away from their faith.  To pray for a sick friend.  To pray for the nation.  To pray for a mother who lost her baby a few months ago.

Don't complain, just pray.  Don't whine, just let God work.  I can always be His tool if I cooperate with Him.  In. every. moment.  even the broken bone type of moments.

Cooper woke up twice to nurse.  When I got up this morning, my toe was painful, more swollen and stiff, and it was all I could do just to make it out to feed all the animals, let alone think about milking them.  I turned the babies loose to their mamas and let the babies do the milking this morning.  But over the day, the pain has been better.  I've rested and iced it, spent a lot of time lying on the ground playing with the baby.  Read, prayed the rosary, prayed the Chaplet of Divine Mercy, talked to God, listened to music.

For whatever reason, I wasn't supposed to be on that trip.   Disappointment happens every day.  Pain is all around.  But so is our Lord.  Always with us.  Always with a plan that we cannot fully see.

Just trust.

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