Well … here we are … almost three and a half weeks after my snow skiing accident and my pain level is still high. Too high, if you ask me … although I’m not super patient when it comes to healing. Or progress. But I started to *know* something was wrong last week. Perhaps I was in denial before then and I just kept hoping I was going to get better. Plus I was trying to avoid the cost of the MRI and everything after that.

And then the news yesterday at the doctor really wasn’t what I was expecting. It was worse. I cried a little. {Or a lot}. But it could be worse. I know that … believe me … if you were around in 2011, you know my dad had a ski accident that was much more catastrophic. It still haunts me because I know it stole time from him … and time that we will have with him!

The thing is, when you’re an expert at something … you push the limits. You can’t dumb down what you know and if you ski fast … you ski fast. I still don’t know what caused my accident. I can speculate based on how I landed. I know that when I hit the ground I was going somewhere between 35-45 mph. How? I have an app that tracks my speed and elevation and miles, etc. But I’m thankful that I wasn’t around any people or the tree-line.

The Ortho gave a pretty good description of what he thinks I did based on the injuries he saw from the MRI. The long and short of what the Ortho said after seeing my MRI is that I slammed my shoulder so hard on the ground I dislocated it.  When I dislocated it I tore the labrum all around the joint.  Then it managed to bounce itself back in — but only partially.  So picture a head whiplash forward and back — same thing with my shoulder.  But it tore everything in its path.  And it can’t go back into place because there is too much swelling.

So, I got a steroid shot to help with the pain and then in four to six weeks I get to go back for surgical repair of the labrum. Surgery. In my spare time. With four kids. I’m terrified.

I’m frustrated at myself for not really knowing how I fell. And for falling at all. And for skiing alone. And for not allowing ski patrol to help me. And for delaying my MRI three times. But those things are all part of my charm — the stubborn, independent side of me. The woman in me who doesn’t like to ask for help.

Yesterday I was 99% grumpy and should have just shut myself in the closet … and Shawn just put his hand on my leg and said, “you know it’s going to be alright.” And it is. One of my favorite quotes of all time is this ..Shit could be worse. And it can. I can list out all I’m thankful for … but I don’t need to, because I’m a lucky gal and I know it. This is just a way to get me to slow down and focus on those things a bit more.