The Big Break...

This is my story; I will take you through my personal journey, as I live it. The nightmares that all massage therapists have, that accident that leaves us unable to work. I will take you all through the ups and downs, the laughter, tears and triumphs. I must warn you that some of the content I write may not be of the most professional nature, but when we go through painful moments, personal breakdowns and literally a fight for your life as you know it, politically correct is not always the first thing that runs through one's mind. So please enjoy the stories I write, funny, sad, empowering, whatever they evolve to.

It started out a nice Sunday morning, enjoying the company of my Mom and my son, Jeffery. We walked our way down Old Railroad Road toward the ferry, where we had decided to walk onto the ferry and take an inexpensive adventure across the Columbia River to Puget Island, between Oregon and Washington. It was over cast and slightly chilly, but this is Oregon people, at least it wasn't raining (yet). One hour, $4 and about 50 iPhone pics later we walked back to my parent’s house. My husband, Tom, was getting antsy to head home, we still had so many things to do at home and only one more day of Memorial Day weekend to finish it all. The trip home from West Port was typical, 2 dogs, Jeffery, Tom and myself filling up our 2003 Ford Expedition. We stopped at Red Robin for dinner, where I should have figured out that our night was about to take a turn for the worst when our cute little teeny bopper waiter, "like oops forgot to enter your meal." So we waited what seemed like forever to get our food that the Manager delivered, appropriately apologizing and offering us a free desert that we never received. Fast forward to us deciding it was a good idea to stop by my clinic to pick up my MacBook to take home, I still can't remember the reason why we needed, guess it wasn't that important after all.

Now here is where it all goes down…well, the stairs! I left Tom and Jeffery in the car as I headed into my clinic for what was suppose to be a quick stop to grab my laptop. After a swift stop in the potty, I grabbed my MacBook and dropped it into a beautiful and chic GIGI carrying bag, hurriedly stuffed the power cord in another pocket and fluttered out the door. I stopped briefly to take a look around and decided to flip on the switch to a light, hoping to encourage people driving past the beautiful brick building to look up curiously and see our little sign in the window. I am always marketing my practice! Flip goes the switch, "honk honk" outside; "POP, POP, POP" goes my left ankle. Next thing I remember, ”What the hell just happened?" ran through my mind as I realized I had fallen all the way down the first flight of stairs. I pushed my self up with my hands, pulled my left leg forward, lifting my foot off the landing that broke my fall. At that moment this sensation relayed to my brain that felt like my foot had slid medially off my Tibia (to the inside off the large bone in chin) and that is when the fire hit. It happened so fast, HOT pulsing fire inside my ankle radiating up my leg to my knee like a matchstick, instant nausea and silence as my mind tried to wrap around the significance of the injury that had just occurred. I slopped back down to the floor, fighting back the urge to both cry and vomit. I knew at this point my ankle was hurt badly enough I was NOT going to make it down the second small flight of stairs and out two doors to get to Tom. I laid there for what seemed like an eternity, knowing that Tom would eventually come looking for me, when in I realized that was NEVER going to happen. The outside door to the building was locked and I had the only key, on me. I felt like I was in a really bad movie as I gazed down the stairs at the windowed doors, seeing the passenger side of my gray Expedition, everything began to distort - first rushing at me, almost close enough to touch then they rushed out and seem light years away. I looked at the railings attached to both sides of the stair well, I began to strategically plan my descent of the stairs, knowing if I could make it just far enough to push the bar on the outside door a sufficient amount to unlock it, my knight in shining armor would rush in and save his maiden - whisking her away to the ER. Taking a couple deep breathes and saying my affirmations "You can do this Stephanie, YOU can DO this” I grabbed the railings, used my arms and right leg to get up off the floor and began my journey down the stairs, one grueling hop at a time. Clammy and ready regurgitate all of my Whiskey River Burger; I made it to the first door. "Damn girl, your almost there!" I reassured myself, swallowing back the pressure in my throat. I had never noticed how heavy the door was, until this very moment, "HEEEWHOOOO, HEEEEWHOOOO" I pulled the door open and hobbled my way out the door, hugging the wall, grabbing onto anything to help me maintain my balance, only a few more feet to go. I waved my hands to get Tom's attention, thank the Lord he saw me and came running.

“WHAT THE HELL’D YOU DO?” were the words uttered from my hero’s mouth as he opened the door and grabbed me. Just in time too, I was sweating like, well… I don’t know but it was gross and felt everything slowly turning gray; I didn’t have much energy left. “I think I really hurt myself this time.” (Yes I fall all the time! I am not a ballerina, fluttering around with abounding grace.) Tom helped me to the car, weary and embarrassed. He had to help me UP into my seat, in what seemed to me at the time, the climb to the top of Mt. Hood. Then the next words he uttered made my heart fall into the pit of my already queasy stomach: not because I don’t like doctors, but because we have no insurance… “Do we need to go to the hospital?”… Those words seem to come through my ears like I was submerged under water, an echo I struggled to understand. Without even processing what the ramifications of what just happened will be, filled to the brim with pain only comparable to the heights of full on labor pains, I broke. Through my sobbing and sniffling, all I could say was, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” Tom, not missing a beat, pulled the sock off of my foot and made the decision for me, we were off to the finest in emergency health care (note the sarcasm please) Willamette Valley Medical Center…