Hopefully I can make this short and to the point. Please forgive me if it is a little lengthy. For those that didn't know, on May 15 of this year I severely broke my tibia, fibula, and ankle. Yes it was very, very, very painful. I was walking to pick up Ronin from school - it was a Friday I will NEVER forget. Keegan and I decided instead of driving we would walk, and take the Razor scooters and our puppy, JT. We were almost there and I decided to get off, because I didn't want to fall off and get hurt (hahaha). I placed my left foot on the sidewalk (right leg still on the scooter) and lost my balance. The scooter pinned my right leg as I fell. I turned to catch myself (so as not to hurt my wrist, hahaha) everything turned with me EXCEPT for my ankle. As I hit the ground I felt a pop and knew I was in trouble. I knew my ankle was broken. Cute little Keegs just kept going and the puppy stayed right by me (I was more concerned about him running away because I knew I wouldn't be able to catch him if he split). I called for Keegan to come back, pointed to the house and said he needed to get help. "Go to this house and call your dad" to which he replied "I'm not supposed to talk to strangers mom!". Trying to be calm and collected I said "They will be kind, but I need help quickly". I then turned to the cars driving by and tried to flag one down. Nobody stopped. After what seemed like an eternity I turned into the nicely manicured lawn and sobbed and cried out loud "I can't run in the Ragnar now!" I must have looked and sounded like a crazy person. Just when I was about to muster the strength to crawl to the house I was in front of I heard a voice. "Are you alright? Do you need help?" I have never felt so relieved. "Yes, I think I broke my ankle. Can you call my husband?" He replied very cautiously, "Yes, but don't you think I should call the paramedics?" Now I know I sounded like a crazy lady. "Yes, I mean no, I mean yes, I mean call them all." I will claim insanity. So . . . long story short, 1 horrible ambulance ride to the University of Utah Hospital, 2 surgeries, 1 stay in a rehab center for 10 days (and BTW when anyone says rehab center - IT'S A REST HOME), plus hospital recovery time - for a grand total of 2 weeks away from home, I am now the proud owner of 24 screws and 3 plates in my lower right leg.

I still have another 6 months of recovery time left before I reach MMI (maximum medical improvement) and I am hoping by that time I will be able to run again, although after today's appointment it is looking a little doubtful. Not because I am not healing well (he actually said my healing looks perfect) but because of the complicated nature of the breaks and also because once you break a joint, it really is never the same (and boy is that true). So, at least I can take solace in the fact that I did get to participate and complete many races, marathons, and relays (still kind of sad that I didn't do the Bay to Breakers race in San Francisco though) and actually the night before this happened I ran the best 10 miles ever! If it is not meant to be, than so be it. I will try to run again, but in the meantime I think I will turn my attention to biking. I am really grateful that I have healed as well as I have and that I was fortunate to have the doctor I had to put my mangled leg (and it was mangled badly) back together so . . . THANK YOU DR. DAN HORWITZ for being a great doctor so I can walk and take care of my family again.

So... this is my very first entry on this new blog thingie.  I have never been into scrapbooking or even organizing pictures so this is a HUGE stretch for me.  My wonderful, persistent friend Teisha (here's a shout out to ya babe!) keeps telling me I should start a blog.  I have finally caved in.  I'm not really sure what to write about.  Since my kids are always doing and saying the unexpected (don't we all feel that way?), I think I'll share my most recent incident.

Last Friday I was driving back from Heber, Utah after having a marvelous time on the Heber Creeper - Polar Express (lots of fun for the kids - ours really got into it).  Ryan and I were just talking away when he very calmly says "you've just been caught".  "What are you talking about?"  Then I saw the flashing lights in the rear view mirror - crud.  Pulling out all of our information we realized our car was not registered (expired in Oct. - yeah nothing like procrastination).  Trying to stay calm about the whole thing while silently kicking myself for being so dumb, there was a knock on the window.  As the window was rolling down, we hear a seat belt being undone, and realize Ronin is starting to come up front.  "Ronin sit down", we say in quite voices.  He then turns to the open window and yells as loudly and authoritatively as he can muster, "You leave my mom alone!  I am NOT going to let you take her to jail!"  

Certainly not an expected comment from our 9 year old.  Luckily Officer Anderson of the UHP paid no attention to that, gave me a warning about the registration and reduced my actual ticket to only 9 over.  I'm not going to disclose how fast I was really going, but let's just say I could have had my license taken away had he not reduced my speed.  Kudos and thank you to Officer Anderson.  What a wonderful unintentional teaching moment - NOT.

Needless to say, I have slowed down and will eventually get the car registered.

I'll post some pictures as soon as I figure out how to.  Like I said, I am not very good at that kind of stuff yet!