Broken

A new year begins. All lovely resolutions, plans for the future, clearing ones head, clearing ones life.

New structure, diet, exercise regime, cleaner house, tidier wardrobes.

Year on year, there is the immense possibility of failure. This year I managed to break 3 days before the new year begun, although it wasn’t confirmed until yesterday.

I knew there was something wrong, with the amount of pain that I had. Of course I was hoping that it was more chance of muscular and nerves damage, but with yesterday’s consultation with a doctor that cared she found it. The upper crack leading through the sternum about 2 cm from the top, the second one further down to the right. The doctor insisted that an MRI should still be done to find out the severity of the muscular break around Bella. Never in my wildest dreams could I have come up with this terrible conclusion.

I was once again invited to the “Idrottsgala” which is the sports personality of the year in Sweden. It was held in the Globe in Stockholm on Monday the 15th of January. At the time I had gotten better pain relief and I didn’t have a confirmed broken breastbone, so I thought a quick trip to Stockholm would be no problem, little did I know…

Arriving at Arlanda airport on the Sunday night. The air was “fresh” and “clear” for you Swedes out there, it was frippin’ freezing! But there was no snow! I realize living in mallorca for almost 8 years have made me a bit more soft and sensitive to cold things, but even the proper Swedes that picked me up were complaining about the cold!

The gala came and went. Peder Fredricson won the Jerringprize for a second year running. That’s the only prize where the Swedish public decides their yearly hero. Riding, even though it’s the second largest sport in Sweden, have very little paper space and TV time, hence the Swedish public, that are not involved in horse sport, cannot believe a European champion can beat a 7 world champion and several world records swimmer.

It’s quite tiresome to educate said ignorant Swedes that horse sport has only 1 world championship every 4 years, and for them to understand how great an achievement winning a European gold on home ground is, any way said Swede Peder proved for the second time that horse sport has a lot of horse power!

Come Tuesday I managed to celebrate 2 cousins who’s birthdays it was. First with a breakfast at stockholm central train station and secondly lunch at Edsbacka bistro in Sollentuna. I then had my taxi booked to Arlanda airport where a quick transfer flight should have taken me via Oslo to Palma. Then it started to snow.

It’s sometimes strange how within a 20 minutes time frame one can go from a little bit windy to outrageous stormy weather, then add the snow and you couldn’t see more than 10 meters in front of you. My taxi driver was driving super slow but we managed to get to the airport in time… the airplane had other plans for me.

After change of gate 3 times, a delay due to the weather and a new crew coming to fly us, I realized it would be tight to manage flying out of Oslo. I checked the flights out of Oslo and most of them were delayed by a couple of hours or cancelled. By this time I had already waited for so long for the flight that I wondered if I should get on the flight… as there were no direct flights to palma the following day.

The air hostess on the Norwegian flight said we would probably get there in time for the Palma flight as all flight out of Oslo were delayed, I decided to get on the flight and we taxied our on the runway. There we stopped. We were told we had missed our time slot. We would be sat on the runway for another 1 1/2 hour. As we landed in Oslo, I picked up my things and went careering through the terminals of Oslo airport, as it didn’t say if my flight had left yet and there was nobody to ask. I ended up close to having a heart attack but finally realized my plane had left without me… I was stuck in Oslo.

Due to how I had booked my ticket, the airline cut me off, they didn’t see themselves as responsible for this snowy palaver. Thanks to my husband I managed to get a hotel room a “roughly 10 minutes away” from the airport. Turned out to be a 40 minutes over 1000 Norwegian crowns taxi journey there but at least I had a bed.

Also thanks to my husband I managed to get re-routed with Ryan air for the following day. A morning flight to London Stanstead and an afternoon flight to Palma. Never in my wildest nightmares was I prepared for what was about to happen.

I was up early and this time walked from the hotel (that I would never have found on my own) through a very snowy place called Lilleström. After a couple of semi right snowy turns and ice skating across some trafficked roads I ended up at the train station. From there the train was almost pleasant compared to the slippery roads. I was already checked in to both new flights and I was ready for another day in transit. Or so I thought… after a few hours waiting to board the flight to London I find out on my flight stats app that it’s been cancelled. I ask the people at he gate but they deny any knowledge of this “cancellation”. I will not bore you with the hours of frustrating wait not the bus transfer we finally found ourselves on to take us to another airport in Norway. It was called Torp. Google it. After being there, there is a new meaning to “the end of the world as we know it”. 2 hours of bus transfer through a snowy winter landscape. Followed by an extra 3 hours wait in a terminal without a cafeteria.

8 hours delayed we finally landed in Stanstead. Me and everybody else that were transferring to other flights had missed our connecting flights. Stanstead was going to become my second night stopover.

Come Thursday afternoon. I had been given a boarding card for the slightly over full flight of FR1913. On my boarding card, Ryan air went all vintage on me, no seat number! So I was queueing up, in the no priority queue, with only a 0 next to where my seat number was supposed to be. When I realized I was already too tired from all the traveling, hotels and lack of food during this hell week, and all of it on top of my already super seriously painful chest, I was on my very last straw.

I was thinking about the humor in the story of me. The unbeatable amount of bad luck, clumsiness and every time I try to plan or arrange anything for my future, it just quickly and sharply goes to pots. I live in fear of ever putting anything in writing, any wishful or slightly planning thinking that like the worst of any black comedy seams to turn on me.

I will get the full report next Friday. Then I will have the results of the MRI and by then I will know more about how little I’m allowed to do. I have tried to research online what exercise one can do with a broken sternum. Turns out, no much, or to make it easier for me to understand, nothing! I’m not allowed to lift, turn, swim, lie on my front or side, run or ride. How I will stay human? Well possibly I never was, one can only hope!

Keep smiling đŸ™‚ even though it hurts, it’s never as painful as taking yourself too seriously!

From one year to the next

Happy new year to all of you!

I decided to leave 2017 pretty much the same way I started it. With pain. A whole lot of undiluted fresh, flesh crumbling pain. From where you might ask? From another fall, I might answer. But this time not a horse or a snowy mountain was within sight. I give you the Beach party at out Caribbean holiday resort.

After a long and hard year we decided to get some sun and relaxation away from it all. My brother and his wife and daughter were going to the same place. At the all inclusive resort they celebrated every Friday with a beach party. The celebrations and reggae music soon got me up on stage! As sadly my elimination from the dance competition soon was eminent, I came off the stage. As I made my way back around a tree to sit down at our table, I’m not sure how it happened, but my foot found one of the trees roots. I was catapulted through the air. I flew quite high. I must have been going quite fast, probably from the disgust of my elimination as reggae queen, I can remember in air thinking whilst seeing my husbands shocked face, oh oh, not again!

My breastbone crashed first into the solid bench edge as I landed on a particularly nasty hard place. The air was knocked out of me, I couldn’t breathe. There is no way how I can describe the pain.

It felt like Bella was being ripped straight off me. Bella being my remodeled breast, constructed by my own fibers and stomach fat. I could feel the ripping of the muscles holding her in place. In other places of my body it hurt as well. Basically as luck would have it, every part that previously did not have an ailment or a soreness was now either bloody or painful, or both.

I felt so stupid. How come I just even all by my self seam to try and do my best to really fuck up any chance of getting back to “normal life” again. As luck had it I did not break anything. My sternum is a hob of pain. I cannot sit or lie down without it hurting. The pain first started to go away, but now it’s been 11 days since accident and the pain intensifies and does not seam to want to go away.

I had it scanned with ultra sound yesterday and the doctor could see the muscular damage, he said there are fatty deposits that can be left behind after a trauma, I cannot remember what he called them, but I’m sure it was something like “golden….” why on earth would you call a fatty, cyst like lump something positive? It doesn’t make sense. And it still doesn’t make me want one just because they have a pretty name.

I was on way back from holiday on route to see my oncologist in London as well as my surgeon. They were the best two people to speak to regarding my accidental prone self and what to do with me.

I was supposed to go for a showjumping clinic this weekend. Sadly Dr Jones thought I shouldn’t try and jump for a while, until I was pain free, as the pain could make me ride differently, to protect myself. Wise lady, that doctor… the surgeon said as there was too much previous trauma to my sternum, he couldn’t recommend an MRI until later on, if the pain intensifies or doesn’t go away…

So for all of you out there. A question: Have you any previous experience of sternum trauma? Is this how it gets? So painful that you believe you are dying… I am normally such a tough cookie, but this fall has ended up being one of the most painful ones I have ever had. It’s probably age related… well at least I’m still getting older!

Anyway I made it back home! I did not use the wheelchair happy helpers at the airport. I managed to walk all by self, although carrying heavy stuff is a bit of a bother.

Keep smiling đŸ™‚ if you are not a born reggae star, fake it!!!!https://www.emeliemarsh.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/01/img_0518.mov