It was a Tuesday, I was at work and I decided to give Clint a quick call about something (I can’t remember what), he didn’t answer and I didn’t hear from him for a few hours. I just assumed he was busy at work and carried on about my day. I then got a call from him telling me that he had bad news and that he had broken his leg.
I assumed that he meant broken his leg the way a child does during the school holidays, a simple X-ray, wack on a cast and wobble about on crutches for six weeks and Bob’s your uncle you’re back to normality.
I guess he tried to play it down so I didn’t panic, I am quite the panicker.
When I spoke to him later on and he told me he was heading down to surgery, I realised that there was a little more going on that I originally thought. What had actually happened was that he had a motorbike accident, leaving the bone in his leg totally snapped, like not connected… gross, right?
While I won’t make you want to throw your guts up with the gruesome details of what happened, I wanted to write this post to explain what a horrible time it was and how in the blink of an eye my whole life was turned upside down (slight exaggeration, but it did change for a while).
When your boyfriend can’t walk for 6 months, you start to piss each other off on a whole other level. My life was spent going to work, coming home and cooking, cleaning, changing dressings and bathing him. It was like suddenly having a baby that I didn’t sign up for.
I would then get shouted out because he was high on oral-morph, Tramadol, paracetamol and whatever else the doctors gave him and because he was stuck in bed with no escape. I was pretty much the only human contact he had for weeks.
I get cabin fever after spending a day indoors so what it must felt like for him, I can’t even imagine but I got a bit resentful because I was doing so much for him and he would take all his frustration out on me. Then he would try to do something for himself and I would get annoyed in case he hurt himself and he would think that I was trying to mother him and we would fight.
It went round and round in circles and I am not afraid to say I couldn’t wait until he was back on his feet. Not just because I felt bad for him but also because I needed my sanity back.
Clint is also self-employed, and where he couldn’t walk he certainly couldn’t work so we had to rely on just my income and I hadn’t even graduated university at that point. That also put a huge strain on our relationship.
While the whole experience was horrible, more so for him than me, obviously, while it wasn’t pleasant for me I didn’t just have major surgery to replace the bone in my leg with a metal rod, you don’t actually realise how much a situation like that makes you love someone.
In fact, I don’t think it that it’s until you’ve been in situations like that you can even love someone at all. When you’ve seen them at their worst and carried on and when you’ve cared for someone who at the time wasn’t that loveable at all. When you give up all your time to help them through something – that’s when you really start to fall in love.
Clint was lucky, I know people have to deal with much more than not being able to walk for six months but just from what we went through I know that it is fucking HARD and I take my hat off to couples and individuals that get through accidents and illnesses and come out the other end stronger than ever!