I Broke My Ankle
By Trish Hubschman
November 22, 2016
It was getting late. Kevin would be home from work in an hour. I decided to settle myself in my favorite recliner in the den. The dogs were lying side by side on the loveseat beneath the window. For the first time in weeks, I was actually feeling relaxed. I was tired, depressed, and worn out from crying. My nephew, Michael, had died from a drug overdose two weeks ago. I hadn’t been sleeping or eating much. But now, with our dogs, Hope and Charlie, quiet, the TV set on, and daylight fading outside, I closed my eyes and fell asleep.
I was startled awake by hysterical barking. My first thought was that Kevin must have pulled into the driveway. I glanced at the window. It was pitch-dark out there. I felt spooked out and guilty. Kevin had worked a long grueling day and here I was snoozing comfortably. I lowered the footrest and jumped to my feet, hopping up the two steps into the living room. I stopped. My ankles were wobbling. I have a walking/balance problem. I grabbed for the support cane propped against the wall, but I couldn’t get it steady. I felt my left foot turn in my shoe. I heard a crack and the cane, and I fell to the carpet.
I stared at the ceiling, tears dripping down my cheeks.
The full story is available at: https://www.recoveringself.com/disabilities/i-broke-my-ankle