“Matthew! Matthew!”, she bellowed at the top of her lungs. “Hurry! Come quick! Mom’s fallen and she can’t get up.
Those words echo in my mind, even today. She was six and in first grade. The look of concern on her face almost made me cry. But I knew I couldn’t. I was scared and hurt. She was scared because of what she had witnessed.
Matthew came quickly! He knew from the sounds of his sisters screams he was needed pronto.
The sight of me lying on the pavement at the bottom of the concrete stairs told him all he needed to know. I had tumbled. Amy had watched the entire process unfold.
“Mom, are you okay?” He asked.
“I can’t get up! I need you to call your dad.”
He made Amy stand guard while he went in to call. Trust me! I wasn’t going anywhere. My heart was throbbing into my foot so violently I thought my foot was going to explode.
Matthew couldn’t get Terry on his phone. He knew I needed help. So, who you gonna call in a crisis situation? Papaw, Nitro Ned, of course, because he’s going to come to our rescue.
Within a few minutes, he arrived and assessed the damage. When he tried to get me up and realized I couldn’t bear weight on my left foot; he knew I was hurt and needed medical attention. So, he took me to the ER and waited. He didn’t leave when Terry got there. He stayed to make sure I was ok.
It took forever to see a Doctor then afterward x-rays were needed. Then more wait until the radiologist report. Finally, the conclusion was a hairline fracture.
They wrapped my foot. Gave me Tylenol with Codeine and sent me home. No crutches. When they wheeled me to the exit, I could still bear no weight. So, with Ned on one side and Terry on the other, they became my crutches.
By the time I got home, Ned had already called Troy and Colleen (Popaw and Mamaw) and told them what had happened and they were on their way from Pisgah Forest to our house with crutches, about a thirty minutes drive for them.
I settled into the recliner, with my foot elevated, and settled in for what would be a restless nights sleep.
For the next few days, my foot, even with ice baths, would continue to balloon out, giving the appearance of a blown-up rubber glove, fat in the middle with stubby appendages. I could barely feel or see my toes, and the pain wretched.
Seeing no progress at all, I decided I should go see my GP. He based his assessment on the cardiologist report. However, he ordered a new set and decided that I needed to stabilize the fracture, even though it was dubbed, ”hairline fracture”, and put me in a walking cast. This would be a huge benefit because at least it helped with the pain and somewhat with the swelling.
The next X-rays would reveal much of the same. In fact, the report was almost identical, except they said, a possibility of a second hairline fracture.
I was getting around good with the boot. I could drive and do just about anything, except bear weight on my foot. The top portion of my foot was also extremely tender to the touch. I couldn’t even put a sock on my foot. It was far too painful. But there was no pain as long as the boot was on. It became my foot’s best friend.
After another few weeks and literally no improvement, I told Terry that I was taking my X-rays and making an appointment with our friend, Dr. Chris Estes. I knew something wasn’t right and I needed an orthopedic surgeons opinion.
They asked for the hospitals X-rays but also did X-rays of their own. Before he even looked at my foot, he put the X-rays on the light and shook his head and said, ”Kelly, I am so sorry. I am so sorry to tell you this. Your foot is fractured in four places. This is not my specialty and I can’t touch it.”
After a few minutes of waiting, he came back to tell me that an MRI was scheduled for Wednesday and I had an appointment scheduled with Dr. McKibbin in Asheville on Thursday.
I took the MRI report with me on Thursday and met with Dr. McKibbin. The MRI concurred with Dr. Estes x-ray and Dr. McKibbin put a name to it. ” You have a Lisfranc fracture . We commonly see these among horse riders who fall off their horses. It normally happens when there is a substantial bending a twisting of the foot on impact. Surgery is needed immediately or you will totally lose your arch. Some damage has already been done. I want to do surgery tomorrow!”
As the words spilled from his mouth, I was trying to process all he was saying. Surgery. Tomorrow. Really?
Suddenly it occurred to me that I had no clue what this surgery and the aftermath would entail. I tried not to appear stunned by his words and I calmly responded, ”Before I agree to surgery tomorrow, I need to understand what this is going to look like. I have four kids at home.”
”Well, the surgery will be 3-4 hours just depending on what I have to do. You will have four screws in your foot. You cannot drive for at least nine weeks and you will be in a wheelchair and/or using crutches for at least nine weeks”
All I kept hearing, ”nine weeks” and the only thing I could muster was, ”Will it make any difference if we wait until Monday? I have to make arrangements for my kids.”
Thankfully, it didn’t make a difference and so I was able to get things in order before the surgery. Terry would take FMLA and take the kids to and from school and their sporting events. I would stay with Mom and Ned for the first two weeks, until I was more steady on my feet. Friends offered to keep the children and our Bible Fellowship group would bring meals for several weeks, after I got home.
There are many stories within this story that I hope to share but I’ll wrap this one up with how I actually fell and why I needed to fall.
Below is a picture of the steps I fell from.As you can see there is a landing area at the top of the concrete steps. Terry and I had been staining the deck and as a result had moved the grill to the landing area. The grill was facing the steps leading up to the deck. The afternoon of the accident, I was planning to grill chicken. I started the grill to heat it up and brought the meat out to cook. I sat the dish of meat on the side of the grill in order to open the lid. Somehow during the process of opening the grill, I stepped back a little and found myself in a freefall. I knew me couldn’t prevent the fall; however I was falling backward and I knew I needed to fall face forward. Digging my left foot into the second on third step, I managed to get myself turned and fell face forward. Luckily, only minor scapes and scratches on my hands and arms.
I don’t consider myself lucky to have escaped what could have been a tragic or even deadly injury, no, no, I consider myself protected by my Shepherd. You see, God was there with me. He knew beforehand what was going to happen and while there wasn’t a prevention from my fall, He did protect me from a more serious injury. To be honest, the injury to my foot wasn’t minor, and took a year for me to walk normally again. However, when I see the stairs and am reminded of how bad it could’ve been, I am thankful.
Like I mentioned, God knew beforehand what was going to happen and still allowed it to happen. Doesn’t that sound like a harsh and cruel God? I mean why would He allow this to happen?
At this point in my life not only was I self-reliant, which is not necessarily a bad thing, I had also developed a self righteousness to the point of becoming legalistic. I needed a big dose of humility. God knew this. He knew the best way to teach me humility was to get me in a place of reliance on him. Reliance on others to help out. A place where I asked for help because I simply couldn’t. This was a harsh reality and a real “come to Jesus moment”.
I would love to tell you that I don’t continue to ride this struggle bus but I do. Not so much in the legalistic and self righteous way but most assuredly in the area of self reliance and my ” I can do that all by myself ” mentality.
There’s a verse tucked in Proverbs 16:18 that states the following: “Pride goeth before destruction; a haughty spirit before a fall.”