On April 20th Ray and I drove our motor-home with our (new to us) Yamaha scooter on the back to Alki Beach for the day. Our girls and grand-kids met us for a day of fun and exploration. The kids scoured the beach to find crabs, sea-urchins, centipedes, and shells. It was a perfect day, until it wasn't.

After the family left, Ray and I took a practice drive on our new scooter. All went well until our departure from the restaurant. As we were pulling out of our parking spot, our scooter sputtered, which caused Ray to give it a little extra gas. Needless to say, we lunged forward and ultimately came to a sudden halt as we both hit the pavement.

To spare you the dreadful details, lets just say that the course of our next five months would be changed in that very instance. Ray suffered a fractured collar bone and a rib, and I sprained my ankle and required stitches in my hand to close a deep cut in my palm.

Aside from our pain and suffering, our much needed trip to Hawaii the following week was the first casualty of our freak accident. As each week passed, Ray slowly and painfully made improvements, while I seemed to just get worse. The first X-rays confirmed my bones weren't broken and I only suffered a sprain, but that didn't provide much explanation for my continued pain. I wore a clunky boot for a week, used a knee walker the following week, and still found no relief. After 3 weeks, I requested an MRI of my ankle, hoping it would reveal a reason for my pain--which it did--sort of. The doctor informed me that I needed to get in quickly so he could put a cast on my ankle because the severed ligaments would certainly not heal unless my foot was immobilized... which meant I had to stay off it for the next three weeks.

I was diligent about following his orders, even though the timing was horrible. We were just about to start a week long vacation with our three grand-kids (two, four, and six years old). This was a vacation that had been anticipated for some time, and the kids were eager to do everything we had planned. Not ones to disappoint, we managed to do it all---even though it wasn't without its challenges.

Finally the day arrived to get my cast removed and start the healing process...or not. Once the cast was taken off, the doctor examined my ankle, and quickly determined that it wasn't healing and surgery was the only option....that was on a Thursday....surgery was the following Monday.

The same Monday that my grand-daughter, Jordan, was to graduate from high school. An event that I was very excited to be at...an event that I was devastated to miss.

Though everyone tried to make me feel better by reminding me that things could be worse, I was pretty set on wanting to just feel a bit sorry for myself. To miss out on so much was just too much at times, not to mention the misery of lugging around a cast, walker, and crutches. I cried. I felt sad and frustrated. I felt grateful that it wasn't worse. I was humbled by the support of my husband, family, and friends.

The surgery went well despite his discovery that my ankle was much more damaged than initially thought. Not only did he have to replace the ligament, he had to scrape the damaged cartilage from the broken bone...hmmm that at least explains why I was hurting so bad before the surgery.

I was resting at home that evening, the numbing medicine slowly wearing off...and then suddenly the pain hit. I wasn't at all prepared for the pain that I felt, even though the doctor said ,"It is a painful surgery." Perhaps I blocked that part out.

A bit difficult to do therapy when the therapist is wacked-out on pain meds, I was forced to cancel my clients for the whole week---not the way I wanted to spend my priceless vacation days! I hoped that if I rested I would feel well enough to not have to cancel another trip. But, by day three, the pain barely subsiding and the pain drugs taking their toll on me, I gave in. The wedding in Napa Valley that I was excited to see would go on without us. It was a trip that we were taking with my daughter, Chelsey, and I was so sad (again) to miss out on that experience.

Sooo, here I sit. Contemplating six more weeks of casts, crutches, walkers, and missing out. No jet skiing for me this year, no swimming, no hiking, no walking, and... no choice but to change my attitude! I have given myself enough time to grieve the events that I have missed and to feel bad for the challenges I am going through. While I believe that it is okay for all of us to accept and feel those not so pleasant feelings....

....it is also important to remember the good feelings too. I have to remind myself that not only could things be better, but they could be REALLY worse. I am grateful that my loving husband is healing and has graciously been waiting on me hand and foot. My friends and family have called to offer help, bring flowers, and show they care. I have enjoyed watching movies, relaxing (okay sort of), visiting, and resting. I am grateful for good medical care. I am relieved the pain is diminishing. I am thankful my job doesn't require me to walk. I am thankful my brain is no longer under the influence of those helpful, yet icky, pain medications.

I am reminded today how quickly our life circumstances can change and how important it is everyday to take a look around and simply find gratitude in all the things that are going right.