The Best Laid Plans....

Even as I write this we are riding down the highway in New Mexico on Day 2 of our annual anniversary trip. This time we are headed to the Grand Canyon (where I have never been) and then on the Las Vegas (where Ronnie has never been). We are traveling with my brother-in-law and sister-in-law who share our anniversary date. Ron and I were married in 1979 and Virgil and Carlene were married in 1996. It has become tradition in the last 2 or 3 years for us to take a trip together.

This year our trip began with an overnight stay at Winstar World Casino in Thackerville, OK. We actually went up to see the Jeff Dunham show. One word...HILARIOUS!!! We all are fans of Jeff Dunham and his puppet friends, so it was a delight to be able to attend his show...a sellout performance. I can't think of the last time I laughed that hard. My stomach hurt, my cheeks hurt and I had tears pouring down my face. Of course, my favorite of Jeff's little friends, Achmed the Dead Terrorist, put in his usual acerbic appearance. LOVE ME SOME ACHMED!!! For those who might not know, Jeff Dunham is a ventriloquist and his puppet friends are Walter, Peanut, Bubba J, Jose the Jalepeno, on a stick, and my favorite, Achmed.
Achmed is a failed suicide bomber who accidentally blew himself up. He wears what he lovingly refers to as a Sham-Wow on his head. Beyond funny. Peanut, of whom I am not a real fan, was even unusually funny. It was a full 90 minutes of gut laughter. After the show we went to a grill/bar for a late dinner. While seated there Mr. Dunham and his entourage came by. As they passed by I couldn't resist yelling, "I love you, Achmed!" I'm almost certain I heard a mumbled, "Who said that? I keel you!" issuing forth from one of the many suitcases with Dunham.

Prior to Dunham taking the stage his working partner, "Guitar Guy," came out to warm up the audience. Guitar Guy, whose real name is Brian Haner, has a great voice and is an incredible guitar player. He sings comedic songs that he has written. You really should check him out on youtube. He has an incredibly funny song called, "Fistfight at the Waffle House." Even if you didn't think the song was funny, which it very much is, seeing the video alone would make whatever you're drinking come out of your nose as you snort with laughter.

Back to dinner, Ronnie and Glen had to run out to the trailer for something and Carlene went to buy a bottle of water. I was left to take care of the dinner bill. That's when I realized we had been dining with Guitar Guy all along. If I had thought of it at the time I would have had him sign my cast. I swear. I really would have!

After paying the bill Carlene and I headed up to the room. Both of us dead on our feet from not sleeping the night before. We had gotten to Winstar about 4:00 p.m. and I had managed to lose $60. I was too tired and totally not interested in losing any more money so we went to the room and went to bed. As you may know, I have difficulty sleeping through the night. At 5:45 a.m. this morning my eyes popped open and I was done with sleeping. I got up, quietly got dressed and headed down to the casino to lose my $15 reward dollars. I swear there weren't 25 people there at that time of the morning. I had my choice of slot machines and I played several of them. I could do NOTHING wrong. Every machine I played rewarded me with bonus spins. I played one of my favorite machines, Lucky Meerkats, and won $56 on a bonus spin! I turned $10 into $110 in about an hour! I was thrilled. As soon as the others got up they were ready to eat breakfast and head out. So that's what we did. We ate at Cracker Barrel and other than stopping for gas, restroom breaks and dinner, we have been riding all day long. My butt is numb. I have, however, followed my doctor's advice and kept my foot elevated all day. I have also taken 2 or 3 short naps...30 minutes or less each. I love to travel...it's just the "getting there" that makes me crazy!

Tomorrow we will arrive at our first planned stop. We hope to spend time at the Grand Canyon, Hoover Dam, the Painted Desert and the Petrified Forest before moving on the Vegas. I think it would be interesting to take a tour of the Grand Canyon but there is no way in Hades that you will catch me out on that plexiglass platform that juts out over the canyon. I would either drop dead of a heart attack or spontaneously combust. I don't know which...just know I would not survive the experience. Until tomorrow, I plan to take a shower, enjoy a glass or two of wine and sleep peacefully tonight and wake fully rested and refreshed tomorrow. But, you know what they say about the "best laid plans of mice and men..."

Too much, too soon...

I admit it. I have ADD. No, I've never been diagnosed, but I have trouble sitting still. I must be doing something constantly. It makes me crazy to have nothing to do. So, it's easy to understand why this ankle injury has been driving me crazy. You can't do too many things when you can't put any weight on one leg. ::insert pouty face::

In an effort to keep from going totally crazy I decided to go back to work on Monday, May 9th. I work in the isolation room. My kids don't change classes. The only time I leave the room is to take the kids to lunch or when I need a restroom break. My thinking was that I could sit at my desk and keep my foot elevated for 6 1/2 of the 7 hours and everything would be great. Monday was great. Tuesday...a different story. If I even got up to go to the restroom my toes would turn black. A couple of my co-workers were concerned about the discoloration so at their urging I called my doctor. He wanted to see me the next morning.

Arriving at Dr. Zavala's office, Tessie, my new best friend, took me to an examination room where she cut off the purple cast.

Normally there is no pain involved in this process, however, the vibration of the castsaw caused little bolts of electricity to shoot through my ankle. It was, however, bearable.

Once the cast was off it was time for the stitches to come out. This, too, proved to be pretty painful. In fact, Dr. Zavala had to come in and take over from Tessie because some wouldn't come loose. OUCH!!!


Dr. Z was pleased with the way the incisions are healing, but he was quite displeased with the swelling in my foot.

He said that I was not keeping my foot elevated properly and therefore the fluid was pooling in my foot. That is what was causing the discoloration in my toes. He said that if I couldn't keep my foot elevated at something like 135 degrees (in other words, lying down with my foot above my heart), that I shouldn't be working. He stressed that not only was my ankle shattered, there was extensive soft tissue damage with the bones out of alignment for three or four hours. Okay, I get it. I'm off work. He did, however, give his blessing on our anniversary trip as long as we stop every couple of hours and I get out and move around so that I don't get any blood clots. Yikes! I will follow his directions!!

Once the stitches were out Tessie told me that I had time to shave my leg if I wanted to before she put the new cast on. Sweet Jesus, it felt so good!! That is why she is my new best friend!! She understands what a woman needs to feel better about her horrifically damaged foot.

Tessie returned shortly with pink casting material to cover up the hideously ugly appendage now decorating my lower right leg. Benefit...it matches my pedicure! Yay!!


I left Dr. Zavala's office but not before getting a copy of my post-surgical xray. Just think of me as the bionic woman.


I will return to see Dr. Zavala on May 26th. Hopefully my ankle and foot will be healed enough that the cast will come off and I can be placed in a fracture boot. Again, I still won't be able to put any weight on the foot, but I will be able to at least move the ankle so that it doesn't freeze up. I've already been warned that I will lose some mobility in the ankle...just how much is yet to be determined. I've also been told to expect to have arthritis in the ankle. While that's not great news, I am alive and "fixed." What more could I ask for?

On a better note, I got my new car yesterday. It's a 2010 Chevrolet Impala LTZ. It's silver with light gray leather interior. It has a sunroof, electric doors and windows, seat warmers, dual controls for the heat and air conditioning, satellite radio, OnStar, bluetooth phone through the radio...all the bells and whistles. While I will always love Libby, my Jeep, I already love Chablis, my new car!




With Beau, my 4 month old Yorkie

Just wondering....

As we approach Mother's Day 2011, I find myself moody, weepy, frustrated and just out of sorts in general. I have to wonder why.

My mother left this earth for Heaven early in the morning on October 5, 2004. It was a cool, crisp Tuesday morning. At the time I got the call from my dad I felt an immense sense of relief. I know that sounds strange. Cold, even. Not so. My mom had suffered...literally SUFFERED with Alzheimer's for several years. She had deteriorated to the point that she didn't recognize her husband and children. She asked me one day, "Now, whose kid are you?" When I told her that I was her daughter, she said, "Then I guess I have three kids. Robert, Bobby and you." It broke my heart as I explained to her that Robert and Bobby were the same person and he was her oldest. I was her youngest. Only two of us.

Mom was fearful pretty much all of the time. There was one occasion where she tried to jump from the car on LBJ because Daddy wouldn't take her home. Home was with her parents in Mesquite and she was going to be in trouble with her Daddy for being out with a boy. Needless to say, my grandparents had been Heaven inhabitants for years by that time. Mom was in a never ending quest to go home, but home wasn't the home she had shared with my Dad for 56 years. It was the home of her youth.

So, you see, the first reaction of relief was because I knew that mom had finally found peace. She was home. Home with her parents and siblings that had gone on before. She was no longer confused or afraid. She was safe and secure in her home surrounded by people she both knew and loved.

Seven years have elapsed since my mom went home. Since that time my brother has joined her. Make no mistake, I know that my mom is happy in Heaven. She wouldn't trade her current status to come back to us for anything in the world! So, why am I so sad? Bottom line: I so miss my mom. Maybe it's because it's been so long. Maybe it's because she didn't recognize me in the end. Maybe it's because I'm a mom. Maybe it's because I'm currently recovering from a serious auto accident and my meds have all of my body chemistry out of whack. Maybe it's all those things. I don't know. I just know that I am so very sad and wish that just one more time I could hold my mom's hand and tell her that I love her.

Mom & Daddy:1949


Mom & Bob


I'm sure that she knows. But for my sake I need to say it.

"Mom: I love you. I miss you. I didn't appreciate you nearly enough while you were with us. Thank you for who you were. Thank you for teaching me how to be a mom. Thank you for loving me when I know I was unlovable. I know that I will see you and be with you again. But for now, I miss you so very much. Give my love to Bob, Mama Whatley, Dad Whatley, Aunt Mary and Aunt Dorothy and all the aunts and uncles. Happy Mother's Day. I love you!"

Be careful what you wish for...

For the past two weeks I have been anticipating today...almost salivating. Today was my post surgical follow-up with my orthopedic surgeon. I wanted so badly to get that soft cast off so I could see my ankle and see how things were healing. I was also a bit apprehensive...worried that moving the ankle would prove to be excruciatingly painful. But the desire to get a good look at my healing foot outweighed my anxiety.

At 10:30 this morning I walked into...well, rolled into Dr. Zavala's office. His nurse took me to an exam room almost immediately. She removed the ace wrap, grabbed a pair of scissors and cut off the cotton wrapping my leg. She removed the soft cast and this is what was underneath...



I was very disappointed.


My foot feels like it has been pumped up with novocaine. Absolutely no feeling on the surface of the skin though I can feel (aka "it hurts") any pressure to the foot. It is ridiculously swollen and discolored. And the stitches??? This dude had to have failed homemaking...at least the sewing segment. Actually, Dr. Zavala said my foot looks great and in retrospect I believe he is right. It has been only two weeks. And after the number it did on my car...how can I expect any less for flesh and bone. Also, I saw the pre-surgical xrays. Both of them. The one before they realigned my foot and the one after. I could feel Dr. Zavala looking at me as he showed me the xrays. All I could say was, "Holy Moley!!" My shin bone is split vertically, my ankle was shoved two inches up into my shin cavity and bones were pushed all over the place. The post surgical xrays look much neater...two titanium plates and eleven screws holding my ankle together.

Prognosis: I am now in a lovely purple cast.


After a couple of weeks in this cast I return to Dr. Zavala. They will remove the cast and reassess my ankle. If he feels it has healed enough, he will place me in a fracture boot. No, I won't be able to put any weight on it for at least another six weeks, but at least I will be able to flex the ankle to keep it from locking up and keep the Achilles tendon from atrophying. After that I could be facing months of physical therapy. But hey, I'm alive and flesh and bones heal...eventually.

On a side note: Libby, my precious Jeep Liberty, has gone to the great junkyard in the sky. She was totaled. I didn't even get to say goodbye. But I think she knew how much I loved her.





Now I begin the arduous task of finding a new vehicle. If I had even been thinking about getting a new car I would have some idea of what I want. As it is, I wasn't even entertaining the idea of replacing Libby. We leave for our annual anniversary trip in less than a week. Yes, I am going to the Grand Canyon and Las Vegas with one foot in a boot and the other in a cast (LOL)and I am going to have a great time. Someone said to me tonight, "You're going to be miserable." My reply? "No, I'm not because I don't choose to be. I have made up my mind not to wallow in misery. I have made up my mind that I will have a good time...and so I will."

After seeing my Jeep, the accident scene and my xrays, I realize that my guardian angels were working overtime that evening. My injuries could have been so much worse...even fatal. I am blessed and I intend to live my life that way. So, if I haven't said it before, I am saying it now, "Thank you, God, for your grace and mercy and for protecting me from more serious injury."

Some days it's just hard to get out of bed...

Some days? That's probably going to be my battle cry for the next two months.

Last Wednesday was kind of a tough day at work. Started out good, but then one student acted like a turd and it was downhill from there. I was so looking forward to the family dinner Wednesday night. We needed to talk about upcoming travel plans. My sister in law arrived at the same time as me and it was just going to be the two of us. Ronnie had a ball game, Virgil took their dad to the doctor, Ryan was out of town and Richard canceled for some reason. So, Carlene called Kim, her son's girlfriend, and we decided to make it girl time. Kim was out of school for Easter break so she came up to join us. We had the best time. Laughing, talking, getting to know one another. I hated for the night to end, but I had some shopping that had to be done and Carlene gets up early to drive her grandson to school in north Dallas. Leaving Mi Cocina's, which was delicious!, I headed over to Bed, Bath and Beyond to look at their wine accessories for the wine room. Not finding "just the right thing," I wandered through the store looking at towels, glassware, comforters, sheets for the boys' new room... I was just in one of those shopping moods, but I couldn't find ANYTHING to buy, dang it! Now, with hindsight of 20/20, I think, "If only I had skipped BB&B and just gone home." But I didn't, so that put me on a collision course with pain.

As most people know, Ron and I live in the country. Most of the street names out here are numbers. Anyway, I started home thinking about what a great way the day had ended, about our upcoming anniversary trip to the Grand Canyon (where I've never been) and Vegas (where Ronnie's never been). I reminded myself of a couple of things I needed to take to work with me the next day and the next thing I knew, I was in a world of pain. As I turned off of FM549 onto Rabbit Ridge, there is a 54 acre wooded area off to my right. There is a house in the middle of it, but nobody lives there. It all happened so fast that I have "flashes" of pictures in my head. The first picture is a coyote. He waited until I was right up on him before darting into the road in front of me. I don't care what people say...and there are plenty of them out there with free, unsolicited advice, you would not "just run over him." There's this little thing called instinct and it kicks in. Mine did and I stomped my brakes. In truth, I was probably driving too fast on that road. I usually do. Anyway, stomping the brakes made me start sliding and I lost control of the car. I ended up in the ditch coming to a very sudden stop. I didn't know until Ronnie went back up there today that there is a sawed off tree trunk hiding in those bushes that I hit. Thinking back, I remember hearing and feeling my ankle and knowing that I "hurt" it. At that point, however, I wasn't really in pain. Sitting there for a minute until I calmed down, I still just thought I had run off the road. Didn't really comprehend that the boom sound meant that I had wrecked the car. As I said, it all happened really fast. Warp speed, even. After a minute I thought, "Okay, let me back this thing out of the ditch and get on my way." Well, I got it to go backward, but still not knowing how badly my ankle was hurt, I didn't realize that I had no way to stop it. Thank God for that brick mailbox??? Just after slamming backwards into the mailbox did the pain hit and I realized that my ankle might be broken. I called hubby and said, "Can you come pull me out of the ditch. Oh, and I think that my ankle is broken." He came up, pulled me out of the ditch, somehow managed to get my car parked in the church parking lot and drove me to Presbyterian Hospital in Rockwall.

This is the reason I could not stop my car.


In the first photo you can see where the bone poked through the skin and went back in. And if you think the pictures are icky...you should see the xrays! My shin bone is split vertically...my ankle, where it connects to the shin bone, moved 2 inches up into the shin cavity...there are literally pieces of bone EVERYWHERE!! Bottom line...the morphine didn't phase me and when the feeling started coming back to the foot, it came back with a vengeance. The hospital called the orthopedic surgeon on call and the waiting began. At one point one of the ER doctors came in and got Ronnie and took him out into the hall. She told him that they could not give me any more pain meds and they couldn't wait any longer to align my foot. He was going to have to help her. When they walked back into the room and Ronnie came to my bedside to hold my hand I knew they were about to hurt me. They thought they were being sneaky, but I could see it in my husband's eyes.

To make a long story short, the surgeon came in and about 1:00 a.m. I was rolled into surgery. A couple of hours there and my ankle is back together.

My right ankle is now held together with two steel plates and eleven screws. I'm taking vicodin for pain and sleeping a lot. The hardest part is that I can't put any weight on my foot for the next six to eight weeks. Translation: I can't even go to the bathroom without assistance. Ronnie has to either do everything for me or help me do it. I literally can't even get out of bed by myself. It sucks. I'm used to being the caregiver...it's totally different on the other side of this coin. It is what it is, however, and like it or not, I have to follow the doctor's orders. I will probably lose some of the mobility in my ankle and end up with arthritis...all because a stupid coyote needed to cross the road. Oh yeah, my car is probably a total loss as well.

It's a struggle...

I'm struggling right now. Internal conflict. Heart versus head. I don't know what to do but it doesn't matter because I can't do anything anyway.

My dad got out of the hospital last week and returned to rehab. He has literally been back at rehab one week...7 days. This morning his nurse, LaToya, called me...against his wishes. She explained to me that both the doctor and the nurse practitioner, as well as she, herself, felt that Daddy needed to go back to the hospital. His pulse oxygen level is very low (85%), his blood pressure is high one minute and incredibly low the next, he has a crackling sound in his lungs, his heart rate is elevated and his respirations are very low...8 per minute. Bottom line...he is in medical crisis and needs more care than they can give him. It could literally be that his life is on the line. So, what's the conflict? Daddy is refusing to go to the hospital.

On the one hand, my head understands this. He is tired. He feels like crap. He can't do anything for himself so he is dependent on someone else for literally everything. He misses my mom. He's told me on many occasions that he is "ready to go see Momma and Bob."

On the other hand, my heart is breaking. Regardless of all that we have been through, he is my dad and I love him and I will never be ready to give him up.

After the nurse called, I called Daddy and begged him to let them take him to the hospital. He refused. He has given up. I truly believe that it is a matter of weeks before Daddy departs this life for one free of pain, breathing difficulty, and where he can walk again. I should be joyful for him. And maybe I am...for him. For me? I feel lost...confused...sad...and just a touch angry.