Gimme a Break...oh wait...I already have one

Seven or Eight months ago, I'm not exactly sure on the time frame, I somehow managed to break my foot. At the time, I remember my foot hurting. Then after a poorly aimed attempt at catching what I've come to believe was a small tarantula in our house, I managed to take the pain in my foot to a new level. I fell onto the couch chanting, "I think I broke my foot. I think I broke my foot," over and over. Being a massive bloated cow of a pregnant lady at the time, I wasn't exactly gunning to go to the doctor and expose myself to xrays, so I came to my own conclusion that it was a sprained something or other and limped along for a month. Another month came and went all the while I still limped along with pain in the foot. Before I knew it, I was poppin' out a wee baby and the pain in my foot quickly became mentally dialed down from bad to simply bothersome.

Fast forward many moons from that moment to about two months ago. Still limping along and feeling sharp stabs of pain, I took to getting the medical advice from my brother the chiropractor. A broken bone was the last thing either of us thought of so he suggested I try to rub a spoon along the painful area and try to stretch my ligaments (or something like that).(It sounds crazy, but I don't have the tools he has so a spoon was suggested.) One swipe along that spot on the side of my foot and several colorful words forcibly leapt out of my mouth and suddenly there was a spoon imbedded deeply in my wall. (No. Not really.) I decided to bite the bullet and go get an xray done. Sure enough, the doc came back in with a pretty picture of my foot and told me I had a Jone's fracture. Apparently, being a giant fat cow as pregnancy sucked all of my precious calcium from my body made it so my foot decided to spontaneously break under the pressure. Nice, right? He told me to wait it out another month and if the symptoms weren't gone, I'd need to probably go to an orthopedic doc.

Fast forward again to two months later. My foot is still very much broken and I still look like a gimpy pirate when I walk. The ortho doc told me that these fractures are tricky little buggers and don't like to heal on their own. Had I caught it early, I might have stood a chance, but if it ain't healed after 7 months, it ain't gonna heal at all. He scheduled me for surgery to place a pin in it and it's supposed to happen next Monday. Guess who has a problem with that? Yeah. Me...and Josh...and Evie...and my sanity. The surgery will put me on crutches for a month and then a boot for two weeks after with physical therapy for a month after that. What?!? I don't have time for this. A few problems have surfaced. Surgery will knock me out for about five hours. Evie doesn't care much for anyone but me and will scream consistently until she is in my arms. Josh said he's not sure he can listen to her scream for that long and that this is not a great time for the surgery. Evie also won't take a bottle. At all. She gets so mad she throws up every time we try to give her one. Oh, and not to mention I will have to find a way to carry her around with crutches. We're talking about rescheduling the surgery for a month later so I can get Evie on some solid foods so she won't be completely starving while I'm out but I still need to talk to the doc about it. All around, this is just one big pot of boiling over annoying and I just don't know what to do. I've actually considered just having a broken foot for the rest of my life. Is that crazy? Yeah. Maybe a little.