There Was Good News and then…….

I’m back from Chicago.  Was it a good weekend you ask?  Well that depends on your definition of good.

The drive down on Thursday was great.  It was long – but it didn’t feel it.  The weather was shite but it didn’t bother me.  My brain was relaxed which was amazing.  I sang, I laughed and I drank…(coffee people!).  I even arrived in time to see my sister play her last match of the day!  Went to the hotel, saw some old friends and really just enjoyed myself. 

Will was having a blast too – he didn’t miss me at all. 

Friday – we started our tournament.  Our first match – we played amazingly but we still lost.  No biggy.  We turned around and won the next two and made it to Saturday!  (Let me add here how great this is for me….I’ve played the same tournament where I was out by 11am on the first day!!!).  We celebrated at the big bash on Friday – and I had SO much fun. 

Woke up Saturday morning with no hangover.  Awesome!  I was drinking goldfish bowl sized glasses of wine the night before so I was slightly worried.  I thought I had lost my blackberry…AND someone found it.  Honestly – this weekend was kicking some major ass.

So we got out on to the court for our match and we won the first set.  WooHoo.  We cracked a bit and lost the second.  Crap.  At 4-4 in the third set and 30-30 in the game, I moved forward quickly for a shot at the net….and I heard it.  POP.  And I knew immediately. 

Like David Beckham before me….my achilles tendon had blown out.  Reach down and feel your achilles…go on..I’ll wait.  Now imagine you feel nothing but a hole.  That is what was there.

I felt nothing because I immediately started having a panic attack.  WHAT THE EFF was I going to do with a two year old and no achilles???  I was bawling hysterically and generally losing my mind – yelling ‘not my achilles – not my achilles’ over and over again.  Thankfully my sister knew exactly what was happening and started talking me off the ledge.  She just kept repeating ‘Breathe.  We’ll figure it out.  Breathe’ 

All the people who were gathering were saying how great it was that it was the end of the season.  My sister finally yelled what I was thinking – ‘She’s a single mother of a two year old.  She doesn’t give a shit about the paddle.’

So off we went to the hospital.  God love the US health system.  Within an hour and a half, we were casted, x-rayed, drugged, crutched and out the door.  And the reality of what was to come was filed away for the next day while I ate vicoden and drank beer and watched my friend play (and eventually go on to win the U.S. Mens Championship!!!!!).

Now reality is here.  This is my boot.  I’m be sporting this look for the next two months or so*.  Also for the next two months or so…I’ll be living at my sister’s house.  Thankfully, she lives in a bungalow.  Thankfully, she loves my kid.  Thankfully, she’s freaking amazing because she’s saving us right now.  I honestly have no idea what the hell we would be doing without her.  (as I type this she’s lying in her room with Will trying to settle him to sleep – he’s having some trouble with this time change and the excitement of being here).

So was the weekend good?  Actually it was.  This sucks ass.  But we’ll get through it.  It’s not the end of the world.    The thing that I noticed was that instead of my first thought being ‘sweet – some time off work’….the first thing I thought of was Will.  I think I thought of him before I even hit the court.  I love having someone to think of before myself.  I really do.  And him kissing my boo boo all the time is pretty damn cute. 

*Oh and for you interested parties, I’m not having surgery.  The newest protocol for ruptured achilles is a non-surgical, casting procedure.  I was nervous about it at first but I’m willing to accept that the four surgeons I spoke to know more than me and that the human body is pretty amazing and will indeed regenerate my achilles.