Í ólagi

Out of order

Sorry, it's a bit quiet here at the moment - I'm out of service.

I had an accident on Friday.

We returned from shopping in the afternoon and I broke into the terrace in front of the front door, laden with several shopping bags.

A board, which was probably already a bit rotten, broke beneath me, and I fell through. But the terrace is high enough, at least a good meter high, so I had room to fall. Somehow it all happened very quickly, and then I was lying there, pretty much flat on my stomach, my right leg somewhere behind me, my left leg wedged in front of me and beneath me in the terrace. And I couldn't move. For one thing, my left leg was firmly wedged, and for another, I must have dislocated my left shoulder in the fall, and I couldn't use my arm at all. I couldn't stand up, support myself, anything. And when I tried to brush the hair out of my face with my right hand, my hand was covered in blood. And my glasses were lying broken on the floor a little way away from me.

With combined strength, my husband and child number four eventually managed, even though it felt like an awfully long time, to pull my right leg up the wall of the house, so that they could finally somehow stand me up, and I could then sit leaning halfway against the wall. That was real progress!

My husband was then able to wipe my face, and we discovered that all the blood on my head was, thankfully, only coming from a fairly small wound—apparently, I had rammed the corner of my glasses into my head, because I now have a small, fairly square hole there.

But the left leg was still stuck.

This picture was taken in that situation. So, no, don't worry, my husband didn't pull out his phone and take a photo before coming to my aid. By then, we had already sat me up and cleaned my face, and I was sitting up again and able to catch my breath, even though my leg was still trapped and nothing was moving. And then I asked for a photo myself – child no. 4 didn't want to, but my husband took the snap. I wanted a souvenir photo for our family calendar for next year!

There's no photo from before - how I'm lying there flat on my back, one leg forward, one leg back, pretty much unable to move, a shopping bag underneath me (two milk cartons were squashed and a bit of milk spilled out), my broken glasses a little bit to the side, and my forehead smeared with blood... Believe me, this picture looks much less harmful than it felt in the situation!

The biggest problem (apart from the fact that my left leg was still stuck on the patio) was my left shoulder. I think I somehow dislocated it in my fall; I couldn't use my arm at all. I couldn't support myself, push myself up, anything at all—it was impossible! My husband didn't know how to touch me either. Whenever he touched my arm, I would scream in pain, and my shoulder "creaked so strangely," my husband says. I think I really scared him. But luckily, the shoulder went back into place (either immediately or when I stood up and pushed myself up), at least that's how it felt, and I don't think anything is broken.

As a teenager, I had problems with my right shoulder for a while. My shoulder socket (?) was a bit too flat, and it was prone to dislocation. Once, while hiking in Scotland, I fell and dislocated my shoulder, then dislocated it again. It felt exactly the same as now, both in my arm (when you have absolutely no strength there) and in my shoulder. So, it seemed familiar to me, at least. I didn't want to go to the doctor, and I think I was less worried about myself than my husband and child.

So I sat there on the patio, and we discussed whether my husband could somehow saw off the plank next door so I could get out. And at some point, as I was pulling on my leg, I noticed something was moving, and finally—I have no idea how long it took, it felt like an eternity!—with our combined strength, we were finally able to pull my leg out of the patio floor.

Then, since my left arm was useless and I was pretty battered overall, I slid on my butt to the terrace entrance, and my husband was able to pull me up once I was finally sitting on the two steps at the entrance. What a shock! Good heavens!

Overall, I'm pretty battered:

I have a bump on my head (but I only notice it when I bump into it or when I make a face while laughing or something similar).

My left leg, which was trapped, is now quite colorful. It's not so bad on the outside, but the inside is a bit discolored. It hurts, too, and I can't walk much right now.

I slightly bruised my right knee when I fell. Both hands are a bit scraped, and I also have a small dent on my forehead, which we didn't notice until later. My glasses are broken; one of the arms broke off. Luckily, I had a spare pair here.

Then, feeling relieved, I lay down in bed - I was a bit dizzy and felt pretty unfit.

My husband, with the active support of our fourth child, repaired and reinforced the terrace yesterday to prevent such an accident from happening again.

To quote my husband: We're alive again. Both the terrace and I are. However, we both still have some discoloration and are both a bit stiffer than before. That's fine for the terrace, but less so for me.

But I do notice that I'm pretty bruised, especially my shoulder, which is still subpar. Everything I enjoy doing is either impossible or difficult right now – I can't knit, I can barely cook or bake, and I can only sit at the computer and type for short periods of time; I can't do it for long, otherwise my shoulder starts hurting again.

My husband is driving to Selfoss tomorrow, to the pharmacy (pain ointment for my shoulder), to the optician (maybe he can still do something for my broken glasses), and to the hardware store (to get some boards to secure another part of the terrace).

And unfortunately, I'm currently out of action and will only go back to bed with a painkiller.

[Translated from here.]