Chocolate Chip cookies were baking in the oven with another sheet waiting to go in. The outdoor sunshine warmed the Minnesota winter chill through the dining room windows.
“What an absolutely gorgeous March day,” the Texan daughter smiled to herself. “After I finish with the cookies, I will have to walk out to the road and get the mail. Get some fresh air, and enjoy the sunshine!”
She knew she would have to be careful. The visually beautiful freshly fallen snow, so inviting to the eyes, was covering not just a few inches of ice underneath. Deceiving, to say the least.
First,there was Spring thaw: melting snow. This means huge lakes of water that should evaporate into spring lilac blossoms. But Old Man Winter blows the frigid temperatures back just long enough to freeze the huge melted puddles back into ice. Treacherous ice. And covers it with soft, flakey, white snow…one more time.
“So, I’ll walk slowly and carefully. And I will come back if it’s too slippery,” she determined. She wanted an excuse to walk through the winter wonderland.
Out the door she went. One, two, three steps. “Seems ok.” Step four. Step five…
“Whoow!” And just like that, she was on the ground. Her feet went out from under her as she lay face to the sky, in the lonely driveway. Concerned for her back because of past injuries, she did not think her swelling left wrist was a concern.
“Yup. Slippery ice it is…” She stupidly evaluated as she rose up and gingerly walked back to the garage. “But I don’t want to go inside just yet.”
She had flown in from Texas to help care for her dad. He was in the midst of chemo treatments. “I can help Mom out, and have some time with Dad.”
She had only been there a few days. There was much more she wanted to do to help. “And if I have incapacitated my wrist, I will not be of any assistance. Just more work for Mom.” Especially as a lefthander!
The wrist was not looking good. Rather floppy, in fact. Finally, she had to make mention of her injury. A trip to the ER was decided.
The doctor ordered x-rays. He did his best to reset the broken wrist before wrapping it. “It would be best if you wait until you return to Texas and have your local physician do a final analysis,” he calculated with growing concern.
“You’re not the only one we’ve seen today with an ice related injured wrist.” Somehow that was soothing.
Yes, that was me.
And I would not see that Texas physician until I flew home on a prescheduled flight, one week later. One week, dangling my left hand around my mom and dad, searching for ways to help them. Instead of them helping me.
Surgery was decided upon on returning to Texas and making acquaintance with the orthopaedic community. After all was said and done, the doctor was rather pleased with his creative artwork on the x-ray screen.
“There’s the plate. There’s the screws. And there’s the pin that we will remove here, in the office, next week.”
It has been four years since this escapade by yours truly. “And I still feel like we are in recovery,” I admitted to Tim recently.
The use of my left hand was completely zilch for months. Once again, Tim became my left hand. No, not my right. My left hand. Remember, the Ludvigson Lace Lady is left handed. And the Ludvigson Lace Lady does more than crochet with her left hand! You name it, Tim did it. He is The Best.
Life is Lovelier With Lace. . .
As I went through physical therapy for a few months following the surgery, the physical therapist asked what I wanted to set as my recovery goal. “What do you want to be able to do in the end?”
With my children grown, my goal would not be centered around their care. With yet no grandchildren, I would not need to concern myself with them.
“Crochet,” was my quick response. And so therapy success was calculated by this gauge. LUDVIGSON LACE is my case and point to my broken wrist recovery! And to this I am so very grateful!
You see, if I am able to hold a slender lace hook, I am able to do most anything!
Once again, to my doctors and staff, to my physical therapy staff, to the many empathetic, helpful hands (literally) through my wrist journey: Thank you.
And to Tim, the one who did my lefthanded life to the very core of my helpless being: Thank you.
Most of all, to my Healer, Jehovah Rapha: Thank you.
Watching for ice – in Texas or Minnesota,
~ Debbie Ludvigson
The Ludvigson Lace Lady
LUDVIGSON LACE ♡ Aftcra
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