This morning as my family heads to church and I sit at home, I am searching for some of that JOY I have written about. You see, I couldn't go to church because right now I can't bear the thought of putting a shoe on. Why? You ask. Oh, do let me explain the reason.
Yesterday afternoon I had an exciting evening planned that I was soooo looking forward to. I was making dinner for my friend Kitty. You all might remember that she lost her husband Tom to a massive heart attack back in August. She made a beautiful video tribute to him that you all can watch on YouTube if you would like. Here is a link.
And so, we had planned to have dinner together and I was going to bring two of my boys to play with her boys. And then a string of unfortunate events began to happen. First of all, I was making them tacos, cause that is something she said her boys would love to have. So Curt volunteered to do it, sweet man that he is-- only he dumped water in like normal and I was using a recipe that calls for tomato sauce in place of the water. (It is gooood!) So, he had to go back to the grocery store to get more taco seasoning.
In the midst of all this, I was working on a proposal that we are putting together that my agent is waiting on. So, I asked him to write his part so we could send it off but he said to do so he would need to go off to Starbucks where he could write in peace. So, off he went while I stayed home and finished putting the dinner and dessert together. I also needed to get a shower, as I had been fiendishly writing up til that point. So, I turned the burner up on the meat to bring it to a boil per the instructions. Right about that time, the baby woke up from her nap. I had no choice but to race in to get a shower before she was up and around without my supervision.
After I got out of the shower, I told the 11 yo to go get her out of her crib-- and right about then I smelled something burning. The meat. I had forgotten to turn it back down before I got in the shower. It was horribly burned-- scorched beyond saving. So, I called Curt and told him on his way home from Starbucks to please pick up new meat and also more taco seasoning. (If you are counting, this is now the third round of taco seasoning packets... in other words, these tacos qualify as the most expensive tacos ever made!) After I dumped all the meat down the drain and cleaned up the mess, I went back to dry my hair.
I was innocently drying my hair when my five yo came barreling through the house and busted through the bathroom door with all the force that his little body could possess. Right onto my big toe. The door lined up just perfectly with my toenail and bent it right back. I was afraid to look down and was in terrible pain. I can't even put into words what that pain felt like. My toe was bleeding and I just knew the nail was completely off.
It was still attached, though bent upwards at a 90 degree angle, if you can picture that. I made my 13 yo daughter call her dad and tell him to come home. Now.
The next several hours were lost completely and involved me canceling with Kitty, answering a phone call from Lysa who innocently asked me how many books I had sold and got an earful about my unfortunate situation instead, and deciding to go to the emergency room-- as I truly could not figure out what to do. (And yes, Lysa did mention that the nice pedicure she treated me to was now ruined.) Curt tried to cut the nail off with clippers, but my screaming stopped him cold. I would probably not have gone to the ER except for the fact that having your toenail at an inverted angle prohibits the wearing of shoes, and I knew that would present a problem eventually, seeing as how it is cold outside and all.
The ER doctor said that in fifteen years of emergency room experience he had never seen anything like it.
I am so proud.
What followed was no less than seven shots (I lost count but boy did that esteem me in my kids' eyes-- I am one tough mama, make no mistake!) to numb my foot while he attempted to do something to the offending toenail. He truly was at a loss for what to do and finally opted to just push it back down in place.
No amount of numbing it could gloss over that pain, let me tell you.
And so, that is the long and short of why I am home today, hobbling around and searching for a moral or life lesson from this experience.
I will let you know when I find it.