Ok, so it's not really my leg that's broken. Just my ankle. I just wanted to say that, thanks to Brian Regan. It started out just a regular ol' Thursday morning. We were on our way out the door to work when I decided to lengthen my weekend by taking a digger down the stairs to the garage. As soon as I rolled my ankle, I knew it was broken. But I rested for a few minutes, then got in the car and we started driving to work. Then I put my feet up on the dash board, rolled up my pant legs and compared the size of my ankles. That's when I broke down in tears and told Brian we better go to instacare instead of work. So, I am in a boot for 3 weeks, and then probably a rocket sock for 3 weeks after that.
But wait! There's more! The next day while I was sitting at home, I get a text message from my dad that says "Guess where we are? At the hospital with Eric. He broke is collar bone." At first I thought he was kidding, until I saw this...
Yeah, my youngest brother was hiking with a friend on Friday and he slipped and landed on his shoulder. Poor little lamb broke his clavicle in 2 places.. but listen to this... there is no orthopedic surgeon in on the weekend, so he has to wait until TUESDAY to get it looked at! The worst thing is, obviously, they are going to have to re-brake it in order to set it correctly, and he may also need a plate. So, if we've learned anything this weekend, is that it's safer to just stay home and watch tv.
I saved this picture for last because it is DIS-GUS-TING. Don't scroll down if you have a week stomach. His broken bone didn't puncture the skin, but it's pretty clear where it's broken.
