Well friends, here we are. I have officially entered a season I do not excel in:

being injured, immobile, and needing help.

Left shoulder broken.

Right foot broken.

Independence? Also broken.

And yes… I’m currently navigating life from a wheelchair, which has only confirmed what we already suspected—I am a terrible patient.

Not because I’m dramatic (okay, maybe a little), but because I hate asking for help. I hate accepting it even more. I will attempt to open a pill bottle with one functioning limb, my teeth, and sheer willpower before I say, “Hey John, can you help me real quick?” Spoiler alert: the pill bottle won. So did the pickle jar. I never even asked for help when John got home—clearly committed to my independence era.

This injury has turned my normally capable self into someone who celebrates small victories like successfully repositioning a blanket or rolling myself exactly where I meant to go.

Meanwhile, my dogs have gone into full Mama Is Down mode.

Oscar and Bonesy are on complete standby. Bonesy growls from his usual post under the bed like a tiny security guard, and Oscar responds with loud, authoritative barking—clearly handling household communications. I make Oscar get down. Silence returns. Peace resumes.

For a short duration.

Then we repeat the entire performance. Apparently recovery includes behavioral regression—for all of us.

This photo?

That’s me smiling for the camera while the dogs are in a full uproar because they know I’m getting ready to leave for my ortho appointment. Apparently, leaving the house now requires a formal protest.

They love their mama fiercely, and I’m hoping we can get everyone back in check ASAP… mostly because I would love to sleep in bed with Johnny again.

Instead, I’ve rotated through sleeping arrangements like I’m testing hotel rooms:

the front room sofa, the guest bedroom, back to the sofa. I can’t get comfortable, and I refuse to keep Johnny awake—especially since he’s double-booked longer days at the salon to make sure all our people are beautiful.

I also know how incredibly blessed I am. The offers of help have been overwhelming in the very best way. Meals, messages, check-ins—and even a scooter and flowers delivered by a dear friend. And yes… that friend’s husband just happens to be my primary doctor. Life has a sense of humor.

I’m especially grateful today because my sweet friend Melissa (doctor’s wife, angel on wheels) is taking me to my orthopedic appointment. Feeling cared for, slightly chaotic, and cautiously hopeful as I head in to learn more about my prognosis.

That said… I’m human. I’ve had a few meltdown moments while trying to figure it all out—how to move, how to rest, how to ask, how to accept. But I’m figuring it out. Slowly. One awkward pivot at a time.

This season is forcing me into something uncomfortable but necessary: grace.

Grace when I can’t do the things I normally do.

Grace when I can’t open jars.

Grace when even opening a pill bottle feels like an Olympic event.

It’s also testing my communication skills. I tend to think, If I don’t ask, I’m not a burden. Turns out, that’s not how love works. This is a crash course (literally) in learning patience, clearer communication, and letting people show up for me.

I keep thinking about the Erma Bombeck books my Granny Corz introduced me to years ago—how she used humor to survive the chaos of everyday life. I’m determined to try that approach here. I’ll be pulling those books off the shelf, laughing where I can, and learning where I must.

If nothing else, this chapter is reminding me that healing isn’t just about bones knitting back together. Sometimes it’s about softening, communicating, and letting love do its work.

And if you need me, I’ll be in my wheelchair… negotiating a ceasefire between two very loyal dogs, accepting help with a little more grace, and practicing the fine art of patience.

Stay Rosy, Amber🤍

#TerriblePatient

#HealingWithHumor

#WheelchairLife

#LearningGrace

#AskingForHelp

#DogMomLife

#BrokenButBlessed

#OneDayAtATime

#RecoveryJourney

#GratefulHeart

#StillSmiling

#HalfwayThere