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Here was my weekend y'all.

Jamming to Spoitfy on my couch reading blogs and eating sweet potatoes. I love sweet potatoes. A lot. Oh and my mother in law came by our house. So there's that.
I also mourned the loss of Hostess like every good American.

And since I have so many lovely new readers to my blog I thought I would tell you all how I broke my ankle and leg. It's a really sweet tale. Not. 

It was September 30th and we just got back from the fair. 
R.I.P. Big Tex
My husband is very outdoorsy.
Me? Not so much.
He and I have been rock climbing for the past month though. 
Well, on this day, we went to this rock climbing gym for one of his work functions (he is a wellness coordinator and leads this kind of stuff).
Being the sweet heart I am, I see a girl that doesn't have a partner. 
So I pair up with her. Then after some trouble here and there with her, I rock climb again.
I do fine and get to the top- 25 feet. 
I look down at this chick and she tells me to come on down. For some reason, I had a feeling. I didn't feel secure. 
So I meander down a few feet. Now I am about 20 feet high.
She again says, “Helene, I got you!”
Ok, I mean I have to trust you.
I release from the wall, putting all my weight on the harness.

She did not have me.
In fact she was doing it all wrong, why this time I have no idea.
She held the belay device wide open allowing the rope to fly right through and I fly down. Also, I am screaming for dear life to, “Let Go! LET GO!”
If she had let go, the safety device would have kicked in, the rope would have been caught and I would not have fallen.
Fantastic.
I fall on my right ankle (no driving for me).
I hear it crack and see it dislocate.
I luckily got an emergency surgery.
I have 8 screws and a plate (not a dinner one) forever in my leg.
You know what people ask me about the most?
How will I get through airport security.
And I don't know that answer.
I can't walk for 2+ months (But I am thankfully on the second month! Time flies when you're… no it doesn't.) And then another month of partial weight. 
I better not miss Mardi Gras this year. That is the most important thing here!
BUT
there is some good.
I can't do anything for myself.
If I'm hungry my husband brings me food. I certainly don't clean. For a month I couldn't work. Which all in all isn't that bad. I have a walker. I am choosing to be an old lady and not a high schooler with crutches. Thank you. And the dog likes it.

Then I think of people like Lauren Scruggs. A gorgeous, talented blogger who lost her left eye and hand in a plane propeller. If you haven't read about her story, it's amazing. And I shouldn't be complaining a lick. It makes me realize you just have to get up, whether you hobble around or walk with two feet, and move on and be thankful for what you have. 
Have you ever broken a bone?