I guess I never mentioned that I broke my collarbone on October 14. I had, after 6 long weeks, gone back to full-contact after my right-shoulder separation. I had been good and it had been hard, missing Regionals and the first 2 bouts of the season -- but I felt strong and ready to go back. I'd lightly-scrimmaged at 1 or 2 practices, and the Bombshells had a weekend trip planned to Bemidji (which, from now on, will be known as The Place that Shall Not Be Named).
I wasn't going to play, but I was feeling good, and I felt like maybe I'd been silly to take so much time off, and I was REALLY READY for my season to finally start. I thought this would be a fun, light-hearted scrimmage with a not-super-skilled team. D asked if I'd jam, and of course I jumped at the chance.
There were some early indicators that things weren't going right. There was some confusion about the PTSNBN team wanting to run it just like a WFTDA-sanctioned bout. I left my mouthguard at home and borrowed one from Buzz. The floor was so horribly, incredibly slippery that I spent the entire first half just saying to myself "this will be over in 30 minutes and then you can go back to playing regular, real roller derby on our regular, real surface." A few jams into the second half, I got lead jammer (FINALLY -- it was not anything like a fun, easy bout) and called off the jam at turn 4. After the whistle, an opposing player completely laid me out. I went to fall and -- Lord knows why -- thought I was a running back with full football pads on, and rolled and landed on my left shoulder. Heard a crack, felt something bad, swore a lot. EMTs thought it might be my head. Uh... or my rotator cuff. I reached up to touch where it hurt and felt my collarbone in pieces. Chad Rough, bless his sweet, wonderful soul, took me to the ER where the medical staff, bereft of human compassion or anything remotely resembling bedside manner, left me for hours without clothes, a blanket, sling for my arm, pain medication, or even water. I cried many air-tears in my dehydrated and hysterical state.
Let's just fast-forward to me returning home and having surgery 5 days later to pull the pieces back together, with help from the sweet, good, competent (and polar opposite of TPTSNBN hospital staff) people at Summit Orthopedics. It's now 2.5 months later and I seem to be recovering nicely.
I have to say the rest from derby has been a blessing. I had been feeling like my life was spiraling a bit out of control, and the break forced me to rest and reevaluate. I was overwhelmed by the support and assistance offered by my family, friends, and teammates. I missed 2 weeks of teaching, but I'm back and things are good. I've had some lovely and much-needed hours with my family. I'm not taking myself so seriously.
I could write a ton more, really. There was a weird coincidence of the 14s in 2012: Olive was born on March 14; Ellen and Eric married on Sept 14; I broke my collarbone on Oct 14; Ellen and Eric's apartment burned down on Nov 14; and the horrible Sandy Hook shooting was Dec 14 (which is also Jean's birthday). We are all a little nervous about Jan 14. I don't really believe in the supernatural, but it is truly an odd series of events.
Joel should be coming home soon -- he took his WFTDA test(s) today in hopes of soon being drafted to one of the teams on the men's league. I'm sure he was going to pass the skating portion, at least.
I start 3 new dance classes in the morning and I'm a little nervous. I think I just need to get to bed and do my last bit of prep in the morning. Adieu --