On caregivers, faith, family, and writing…

I’ve been home from camp five weeks, and things are pretty much back to normal – most things anyway. I no longer burst into tears for no reason, and I rarely break out into my own version of the camp theme song, complete with motions. I still think about my girls often and pray for them daily, but I no longer find myself obsessing over how I might adopt one or both of them. But then there’s my ankle.

If you’ve followed my camp series, you know that on Tuesday night I slipped gracefully off a 3-inch curb and injured my ankle. The camp nurse checked it out and said she thought it was sprained. She wrapped it and kept me well-supplied with pain reliever and ice packs, and I hobbled through the rest of the week. When I got home, it was still quite painful, swollen, and discolored, so I called my primary care doctor and made an appointment for the following Tuesday.

This is what my foot looked like when I got home.

This is what my foot looked like when I got home.

After his preliminary examination, Dr. Miller agreed with the nurse, that it was probably sprained. But just to be sure, he sent me down the hall for a few photos. I don’t mind X-rays, but I’m not sure why you have to sit on a metal table that’s just a few degrees above freezing. And I wasn’t too crazy about what they found – a spiral fracture of the fibula. I walked into his office with an ace bandage and walked out with this extremely uncomfortable splint and a referral to an orthopedist.

Dr. Miller put me in a scratchy, uncomfortable splint.

Dr. Miller put me in a scratchy, uncomfortable splint.

A week later I visited with Dr. Graves. He checked me out and studied Dr. Miller’s X-rays. He said that, since I wasn’t an athlete (he didn’t see the picture of me on the zip-line), it would probably heal without surgery. Instead of a splint, he sent me home in this lovely boot. It’s heavy and hot, but at least I can take it off to shower and sleep and when I’m just sitting. I’ve done a lot of sitting lately.

Dr. Graves gave me this hot, heavy boot.

Dr. Graves gave me this hot, heavy boot.

I went back for a re-check and more x-rays earlier this week. There was good news and bad news. I’m healing nicely – new bone is forming and there has been no movement of the bone. The bad news is that I have to wear the boot for at least another month. Looks like my garden will stay overgrown and my housework will remain marginal for a while longer.

I wrote a post before we left for camp wondering if a week would make a difference for these kids. In the video I posted earlier in the week, Wayne Tesch indicated that others have wondered the same thing. Based on what some of the kids said in the video, I have to believe that a week of concentrated love and attention does make a difference. I will forever have an identifying mark on the fibula of my right ankle as a reminder of my clumsiness, but more importantly, I will forever have a mark on my heart reminding me that just maybe a week can make a difference. It made a difference in me.



For more information, go to the Royal Family Kids website.

I’m going to Camp: Can a Week Make a Difference? 

Royal Family Kids Camp: Getting Ready for the Kids

Royal Family Kids Camp: What’s In a Kid’s Name? 

Royal Family Kids Camp: Swimming, Activity Centers, and Issues 

Royal Family Kids Camp: Chapel, Dinner, A Meltdown, and More

Royal Family Kids Camp: The Zip-Line

Royal Family Kids Camp: Slip ‘n Slide and Slip and Fall

Royal Family Kids Camp: Say “Yes” to the Dress

Royal Family Kids Camp: Imagination Station

Royal Family Kids Camp: Happy Birthday to Everybody

Royal Family Kids Camp: Princesses in Flip Flops

Providing a Safe Place for the Kids

Listen to What the Kids Say about Royal Family Kids Camp (Video)

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