In typical Little Miss fashion, I developed cellulitis in my right knee late Saturday night, and by Sunday morning it was INCREDIBLY painful to walk...even sitting still hurt. I had no idea what was going on, just that it was getting worse every hour. So off to Urgent Care I went...
Um...sorry, honey, I need you to load up all the kids in their pajamas and drop me off at the doctor because I'm broken. Oh- and happy father's day.
An hour and a half later, one antibiotic shot in my left hip (I swear it was yellow gel that she was shoving through that needle and now I walk with a limp on BOTH sides), one bout of nausea and vomiting, one set of crutches, one script of painkillers and one more for antibiotics...I return home to my king size baby blue and chocolate bed.
(sorry had to throw that in there)
In the meantime I leave a frantic message on my dad's voicemail (aka Willy, D.O.) that I am dying...
Oh- and happy father's day.
He called back giving me advice and validating my pain (which is ALWAYS a safe way to handle me when I'm stressed) and promising that it will be OK (another safe way to handle me when I'm fragile).
The dads in my life GET ME. I'm not sure that other people get me the way they do. N8 understands my issues almost as well as my dad does...which makes me love them both
SO VERY MUCH.
comfort, advice, validation, unconditional love, calling me out when I need it, encouraging me to go on when I feel hopeless, throwing in their sense of humor to make me laugh, and trying to keep me sane--whatever it takes, my dad and husband are there for me. thank you.
Happy Father's Day!
p.s. just so you all know how wonderful my husband is...
he insisted on doing everything for me today, including walking Damn Dog. I apologized again, and he said, "don't worry about it. It's Father's Day-- a day for fathers to give back." Sigh...I love that man.