Friday, October 9, 2015

I got a badass scar

On the way back to Indy, I figured life would run at the same speed, only down a wing. Ha, that's fucking funny. I was down like 200 wings. After the Meltdown in Lingerie I got back to work on Tuesday after a trip to my primary care doctor. I was the first patient of the morning and she said "oh hell ya you're going to need surgery" then apologized that her filter didn't work that early in the morning. She gave me the referral to go see OrthoIndy. I texted my friend Dr. Tim and he gave me the number to his scheduler. I called and was on my way to an appointment, she just had to talk to Tim to get me in.

Work was slow. I was pretty much a dead weight. Everything made me tired. A shower that morning should have called for a two hour nap and here I was at work. We had the Marathon Relay that upcoming weekend and I couldn't be home sleeping. Later that night I had a friend come over and do my laundry and make me dinner. This entire accident has me out of my comfort zone asking for help. I really struggle. She told me to sit down and let her cook as I was trying to do some of it. So I surrendered and sat down as she told me. Brian came over later too, they said they were laughing at me as I was passed out with this huge smile on my face. That's what pain meds will do to you!

Wednesday I went to work planning like I was going to be there all week. At 5:30PM that night I listen to a message from the PA for Tim. He asks that I come at 9AM instead of 12 and that I come fasting ready for surgery at 2:30PM, just in case I need it. It would be easier to cancel it than to schedule it. My head jumped and skipped like 50 thoughts. Like surgery, like tomorrow?! WTF, how would everything get done for the relay? Liz is a hard worker, but it's more than one person at this point, I had scheduled myself for Friday to go all over town picking up things. F-U-C-K. I was not prepared for this. I talked to Tim and he explained he wasn't sure I needed surgery, but we'd discuss that tomorrow. He said if I wasn't prepared to have it, that was okay, but he would then need to refer me to someone as he was going out of town for a few weeks.

I immediately thought of my friend Tracy, she has flexibility, I wonder if I can get her to help Liz. Tracy agreed in a heartbeat, what a wonderful help. Having Tracy to help and knowing Liz was on it, I felt 100% comfortable about giving up any last control of the relay and letting it go. Tim assured me I would be able to go make a visit to the relay after.

Within less than 17 hours later I was meeting with Tim. The Xrays had shown that the gap between the two bones was bigger than he felt comfortable leaving to heal on its own. The decision was completely mine, but we talked long and in-depth about surgery. I felt this was the right decision to make. I didn't want to go through 10 weeks of rehab only to find out I needed surgery anyway and have to start all over again. Tim said surgery is 2:30, not sure the location yet. I take my car back to work so it can be used for the relay and Brian takes me to surgery. We get our location as we're about to head out. 

I get prepped for surgery and my first nurse is hysterical! She takes all my nerves away. She makes me tell a story about Tim running with the Veterans team on Friday mornings to his number one fan and crush. She says he's a white Denzel Washington, I can see it too! She needs a urine sample so I walk down the hall with my hand on my hip because that feels most comfortable on my arm, she calls me a diva walking the runway - ha!


I talk to all the people that are going to give me great things like two nerve blocks and anesthesia. I say good bye to Brian and I'm off to get prepped. I tell you, I go under easy because that shit they gave me before the two nerve blocks relaxed me so much even though I knew it hurt like hell with those shots. I get rolled into the OR, remember seeing a crew of like 10 people, including Tim. They get me to move over, I remember telling them all thank you in case I was passed out later and then I awoke in recovery. I was tossing and turning, I sat up a bit and asked the nurse if I could have something to drink because it taste like a cat shit in my mouth.

She got me a drink and transferred me to Amy aka Sass' care. She told Amy that I told her that a cat pooed in my mouth to which I screamed "no, I said it tasted like a cat SHIT in my mouth." I remember singing "roll out" as they rolled me down the hall. I wanted my after care nurse Jeff to sing Regulators with me, he said he didn't know the words so I said "look them up online."

Tim told Brian after that it was broken in 4 places and was a bit more difficult than he expected. It took longer than he had planned. He told Brian the helmet saved my life as I hit harder than people realize. The helmet. So after I posted on FB about my brand new $240 Giro Air Attack helmet being garbage after one wearing, a few awesome things happened. A Female Pro Triathlete said she wanted to send me one of her own helmets and the incredible staff at the Endurance House said they would take care of me when I'm ready to get back at it. What amazing blessings!

Me and my shoulder (maxipad?) the morning after
So fast forward a week and a day later and I'm typing like a champ and about to attempt my first night of sleep without any pain killers. Which is a damn good thing because they are making me depressed! I was so full of piss and vinegar to make a come back. I was full of gratitude (which I still am!) but I'm kinda down and feel like I could crawl under a rock and just fade away. I've been up and down for a few days. I want people to know I'm not super human. I get in shitty moods; in fact people that know me the best know that I can get moody. I face depression, most days I tell it to take a hike. But the past few days I can't seem to shake it. But pity party of 1, get your shit together, pull your shit up by your boot straps and figure it out. Sometimes we need the bad to recognize the good. It can't all be good, if it were, life would honestly get pretty dull.

I feel like I'm drinking from a fire hose right now, tons of personal and work things all coming hurling at me at once. A broken clavicle and surgery was just the icing on the shit cake. But I need to stop and think about all the people that took time out of their day to come help me, bring me food, fold clothes, just check on me. I need to think about Tim who completely rearranged his day and the end of his week to make sure I was given the best care from someone I trust with my life. I need to think about people who are struggling with far more than I am. Chin up is one of my favorite things to say, because it's true. Chip up a little higher makes you feel just a little bit better. So Chin up Chrissy. Do it for all the people who are here to help you, but most importantly, do it for yourself.


Don't let this badass new scar get you down. Let it remind you of the path you're on, there's dips and peaks, smooth roads and shitty roads, but it's a beautiful gift and don't waste a minute feeling sorry for yourself, instead listen to the crowd cheering you on and keep moving one foot in front of another.


*A huge thank you to everyone who has sent me encouragement in every way possible. My friends that have brought me meals, companionship and love, my coach who has talked me through the ups and downs, my best friend Brian who is just the best, my parents who love and support me in every way possible, my medical team including my incredible surgeon Tim, who right now is taking on the Big Foot 120 in Washington and while raising money for Back on My Feet. Read more about him and give a few dollars if you can. GO TIM GO!

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