A ghostly helping hand…


I’m posting this tonight because it’s been on my mind since the incident happened last Friday night/early Saturday morning. Believe it or not – the choice is yours – but something has compelled me to write down what happened – if I can ever wrap my head around the incident myself, I’ll count myself lucky.

Let me begin at the beginning…

Last September, in 2014, I happened to step smack dab into a squirrel hole in my front yard. Some little furry devil decided to dig up a section in between two paving stones that we use to walk across the grass to gain access to our front porch. I happened to be carrying several empty boxes, which was why I did not notice said hole, and put my right heel directly into the deep indentation.  My right ankle buckled, cardboard boxes were tossed everywhere on the front yard, and I instinctively covered my face as I fell onto my left knee and shin, then rolled for about five feet down the slight hill.  I got up, left side hurting and scraped up, cussing a blue streak.  I put the boxes in the garage then went in to assess the damage to my bad self.

My left knee swelled to the size of a cantaloupe, my shin was scraped from about a foot below my knee to my ankle, my hip throbbed like a mad b….., and my right ankle was slightly sore, but nothing more – or so I thought.

As the days went on, I began to realize that my right ankle was hurt worse than I initially assessed. I kept soaking it in Epsom salt and warm water, massaging it, adding ice and heat, but it wasn’t getting any better. It got to the point, as the months wore on, that I could only walk if I kept my right foot and leg out from my body at a 45 degree angle, and walk like my knee was welded straight, like a metal rod. I couldn’t put my foot in front of me, or stand flat, because every time I tried, my foot would literally curl to the outside, turning my toes sideways. The pain was constant, a small, dull throb, unless I bumped it or tried to turn it to the left; then it would flare into a sharp, agonizing jolt. The only way I could describe it would be like hitting the funny bone on your elbow as hard as possible – a very painful reminder to keep my right foot positioned at the angle which caused the least amount of pain.

I even bought an ankle brace at the urging of my friend, Robin. It helped, and there were nights I even slept with it on, which allowed me to get at least some sleep. You see, the pain was  ever present, and if I ran the inside of my ankle against a lumped up coverlet, or accidentally brushed it the wrong way, the abrupt jolt from the nerve endings would be a quick reminder and result in a fast wake-up call.

This went on all the way up to last Friday – and this is when the weirdness happened. For reasons I will not got into, I could not go to the doctor for my ankle – but, on last Thursday, my husband got an offer for a permanent position at his job, and yay! We were going to have full  medical coverage within a month! I was thrilled and happy to know I could finally get my ankle looked at!

Friday night, Mark and I went to bed unusually early – it had been a stressful week and lots of news on the personal and professional level – and we were both very tired.

I cannot tell you what time it was – I only know that I was in the deepest sleep I’d ever had in a long time, on my left side, my bad ankle cradled on my left leg, when, suddenly –

I felt someone grab the heel of my right ankle, and the ball of my foot. This woke my up immediately, but not fast enough to sit up.

My leg was suddenly yanked parallel with the bed, then my foot was wrenched quickly down and to the left. A sudden sharp, agonizing pain, then POP! POP! POP! as the bones in my ankle suddenly lined up with the tibia and fibula. My darn ankle had been slightly dislocated this whole time!

It was amazing!  For the first time since last September, the pain was gone. I quickly sat up and looked toward the foot of the bed. Nothing and no one was there. I looked next to me, and both my husband and the dog were still sound asleep. I can’t explain it, but I suddenly felt very tired – exhausted, to be honest – so I simply laid back down and slept straight through to the sound of the alarm at 7:30 in the morning.

When the alarm went off, I gingerly sat up, and swung my legs over the side of the bed. I placed my right foot down, and for the first time in ten months, I was able to place my foot flat on the floor. I shifted it around, rolled it to the right and the left, and it was sore (still is; the soreness is beginning to ease up), but I was able to stand for the first time without having to thrust my right leg out like a stiff, wooden piece of furniture!

I walked to the bathroom, out to the cat room, took care of the dog and the cats, and was able to walk the whole time putting my right foot in front of me. I walked around the house looking at the ceiling and saying, “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” for about fifteen minutes!

Once we get our new medical cards, I will go see the doctor and have my ankle checked, but in the interim, I am still stunned at what happened last Friday/Saturday night. I never, in all that time, ever thought it could possibly have been a dislocation – even though I have dislocated my hip and shoulder in the past and know what that feels like.

I don’t know who, what or why decided it was time to straighten me out, but I have no doubts that there are guardian spirits on the other side, keeping an eye on us all – and sometimes, they feel the need to step in and give those of us on this side of the veil a helping hand. For that, my ankle and I are very grateful.


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