Whaddaya call 'em? Oh! Feet!

These past few weeks have certainly been adventurous, exciting, and experiences unlike anything I've ever had.

We Hendricks's are pretty famous for our bull-like health. My favorite accomplishments and bragging rights for things like "I've Never" have always been that I've never broken a bone, sprained a muscle, been hospitalized, been sick for longer than a week or worse than Chicken Pox...yadda yadda yadda. That changed all at once.

A few months ago I noticed two of my teeth were growing in the wrong direction, and we figured they were my wisdom teeth. Mom put off calling the dentist because procrastination is another thing we Hendricks's are famous for. One day, I noticed my bottom teeth, which behave quite well after 17 years of diligent care and expensive years of having all sorts of metal in my mouth, were no longer perfectly in line. Mom didn't put off calling one minute longer.

We saw the Oral Surgeon, and after a very awesome X-Ray, he showed off my disobedient four wisdom teeth, two of which were already through the gum and two which were hanging out, waiting to cause all sorts of damage.

That Friday, after a long day of not eating, I was excused from school and we saw the surgeon. Even before seeing Dr. Patino, I'd been getting rather hyped up about this whole thing. In a good way. I LOVE adventures, and unfortunately my life doesn't get many. So I figured this would be a good one...I had friends and leaders and teachers and strangers and hobos all telling me I was a fool for being excited. "Oh, Alaina, you'll look like a chipmunk!" "Oh, Alaina, you'll be in so much pain!" "Oh, Alaina, you'll get so drunk from the pain meds!" "Oh, Alaina, you won't be normal for weeks!" But I didn't believe any of them. I signed up for Babysitting that Saturday, I had full intentions of living a life rich with pudding, rest, and little to no pain.

And guess what? I WAS RIGHT. I don't remember the surgery because I was asleep, and I didn't even get remotely "drunk" from the pain meds they gave me. I got to eat all my favorite soft foods, got Bolt and finally got to watch my Superman movies, and got a free Oberwiese shake from the most awesome ex-YW leader I know. The worst part was that I had to take Advil and Penicillin all weekend.

The pain was basically nonexistent pretty soon, and my foods were getting more and more solid with each passing day. My days of Cream of Wheat breakfasts, pudding and apple sauce lunches, and mashed potato dinners were ending. Which is too bad, because that still sounds delicious.

By Friday, I was back in peak condition. Every Friday, my friend Kathy comes over and we watch Smallville for Fictional Journalism Club. Maybe I'll expound upon this someday...but anyway. Usually, Michelle and Christine try and come after track to watch Lois and Clark for more of our club. That Friday was Pigs in a Blanket Day, so we went to the store to get some ingredients and intended on eating them while watching Lois and Clark.

After they were done, we went outside to sit for just a bit. This ended up with Christine and Michelle stealing my yellow flip-flop, which ended up with Kathy and me trying to exact revenge through a "We'll have Fun and They'll have None" method. BEST kind of revenge, guys.

That ended up with All four of us using side-walk paint to paint the driveway. We were working down at the bottom of the driveway, attempting to write "Our House in the Middle of the Street". At one point, I had written a word and stood up to inspect my work. Just like the pseudo artist I am, I knew I needed to back up to get a proper look.

Unfortunately, I'm not the most coordinated of darlings, and flip-flops aren't the safest of shoes. The combination ended up with me getting the shoe caught in the curb and falling into the street. I fall a lot, and it was pretty funny. We all laughed, I got up, and kept going. My foot hurt, but why wouldn't it hurt? I just fell, after all. It always hurts to fall...you just gotta get up and keep going. WALK IT OFF. RUB SOME DIRT ON IT. That whole bit.

We finished and went inside to finally watch Lois and Clark, now that it was 8:30 and Michelle almost had to go home. I put some ice on my foot because it really did hurt, and after about twenty minutes of coming inside, I realized it still wasn't feeling much better. Christine told me that the swelling might go down by Saturday morning, but that it still would hurt. So I decided to get Mom's second opinion and texted her to look at my foot. Going up the stairs didn't seem fun.

Really, I was only concerned about whether or not I should cancel that Saturday's volunteer work. But Mom saw it and Dad saw it and suddenly we were in a whirlwind of calling doctors and nurses and touching my foot and moving my foot and such craziness, the likes I have not seen since Emily sprained her toe stubbing it.

The verdict was that it was either sprained or broken, and that I should keep it elevated. I assured all my friends I'd see the doctor Saturday, which actually didn't happen until Tuesday. I just rested at home all of Saturday, and then wobbled around church on Sunday, and then used one crutch on Monday.

It was pretty funny to see the reactions to The Amazing One-Crutched Girl! as she hobbles through the perils of Waubonsie Valley High, fighting off pain and sorrows. Meaning that I had a bow on my crutch, of course. People I've never met all gave me the "up-and-down" glance and try and hide their snickers or cringes (my foot was a lovely shade of violet by the day's end). People who I know pretty well but don't exactly party with on the weekends all did the whole "you poor baaaaby what haaaapened" ordeal. Then, you've got the friends I DO hang out with on the weekends. For the record, they all already knew what happened and that I was pretty much not in pain. So when they saw me, they just laughed.

Apparently, with one crutch I look like a)Tiny Tim b)a Grandma (which isn't hard, as that's already one of my nicknames) c)a fool. Since I apparently care for the visual comfort of my friends over my own physical comfort, I promised either two crutches or no crutches the next day. This lady, by the way, has got the right idea, but frankly, my bows were much cuter than her (probably very expensive) crutches. Anyway, I went with no crutches, and we left school to go to the doctor.

After all the boring doctor stuff with the nurse who didn't like my purple foot, the scale that didn't like the way I measure myself, and the swine-flu boy who didn't like his mask, we went to outpatient. The X-Ray people said we'd get a call in 1-2 days, gave us a CD, and we headed home. When we got there and looked at my AWESOME X-Ray (so much cooler than the ones on TV, if I say so myself. My foot dun good.), it took about five minutes for the doctors to call back. Fastest 1-2 days ever!

Turns out, I have a fracture on my fifth metatarsal. I'd been walking around on a broken foot all weekend and half the week. AWESOME.

Wednesday I went to school with the proper amount of crutches and switched out the ribbons for some colorful scarves. My friend Sarah was super eager to be my crutch buddy, as she would get to leave all her classes early and come to them all late. By the end of the day, BOTH of us were praying I'd get a boot.

Our prayers were heard! I went to the orthopedic doctor today and after a few rousing games of "I Spy" and "20 Questions" with Mother Dear, I got fitted into my clunky peg-leg of a boot.

The worst part is going to be not driving. I really, really love driving...especailly being able to drive. I can't even go to FTEA. It also makes going down stairs very interesting.

(See, Mom? I can totally wear heels with my boot. Rose McGowan did!)

But that's just one more adventure, I guess.

"Part of Your World" can be found in The Little Mermaid