I broke my ribs

Last Monday morning, we were having our usual rush to get ready for school. I had on my sweatpants, sportsbra and northface fleece with my slippers, the standard "drop off the kid before workout" outfit. I had just made Davis breakfast and decided to run the empty egg carton and cereal box out to the curb where Michael had put the recycle earlier in the morning. It had been a gorgeous day before- mid 70s and sunny, but a snow was in the forecast. I looked outside and it was a bit wet and cloudy, but it wasn't snowing. I stepped out on the porch. I suspected it might be icy. I gingerly placed my feet like I always do, but when I hit the second two steps, it didn't matter. They were covered in black ice. My foot slipped and I felt myself spinning down toward the ground, fast. I think I squeaked "oh shit!" and "help" as I went down, but it was all a blur. I smashed my left side into the steps and rolled. I couldn't breathe. At all. And I was in serious pain. I laid there on my back and tried to assess damage. The kids and Michael came out the door and gazed down at me. Michael tried to help me up, but that wasn't happening. I managed to roll onto my hands and knees and get up that way. Michael tried to get me up to the bedroom to bed and a heating pad, but I quickly realized that wasn't the level of care I needed. I told him to help me to the car and take me to the ER. Davis had to leave to catch the bus. We just told Sam to chill at the house as we couldn't take him to school and Michael drove me to the hospital. I kept begging him to hurry. I was in so much pain. Horrible, intense, insane pain. I was afraid I had internal injuries. I couldn't breathe. We pulled in front of the hospital and he ran in to get me a stretcher or wheelchair or something. He found a wheelchair and got me in. They whisked me through triage and got me to a room. I still couldn't breathe and it hurt so badly and I kept sobbing with pain, but each sob hurt. I was a mess. They finally got an IV in me and gave me morphine, but it didn't touch the pain. They had to cut my northface fleece and sports bra off of me. They took me into a Catscan and getting on the table was probably the most painful moment of my life. I screamed and screamed. They came back in after a while and told me I had 4 broken ribs, but no internal injuries. I was really relieved. They upped the pain meds, but I still couldn't get the pain under control. They explained to me that 4 broken ribs is a lot and that I needed to be admitted to the hospital. After a few hours they got me a room on the pediatric floor and moved me up.
The following 24 hours was an painful blur. They put in an epidural in my back which was terrifying and had all sorts of horrible side effects, including the inability to clear my bladder and a terrible allergic reaction on my back. Then after a couple of days, it failed and leaked down my back. They tried putting in a nerve blocker with catheter, but after two attempts downstairs, with the specialty team, they gave up as it never worked.
I got moved to the regular surgery/trauma wing and got re-settled. My window looked out over a rooftop into the windows of the building across. It was super depressing. And it snowed. It snowed and snowed and snowed and that at least, was something to see. I eventually got a continuous pca pump and got the pain under control. I saw OT and PT and walked around the floor and up some stairs and back down. I learned to get in and out of the bed and chair independently. I've taken two showers. My friends have sent me flowers and goodies. Kelly came one night with Rachel and brought me sushi. Suzy came twice to sit with me and visit. Michael comes every day and organizes my cords and hands me gummy bears and puts movies on my devices and takes me on walks through the halls. I call my mom and cry. I watch snow outside my window. I suck on my breathing machine and read YA fiction.
My nurses have all been very kind. I've gotten to know everyone here. I'm sick of hospital food. I've never talked more about my bathroom business with others in my whole life. I've never worn less for so many days either.
I've been here 6 nights and 7 days. I might get to go home today, but probably tomorrow. I'm looking forward to going home and I'm scared to go home. But I am so homesick. Sometimes when I am here in the hospital by myself it feels like I am stuck in a nightmare. Nothing seems quite real and I get in a anxiety fed panic.
But I am definitely healing. I get better every day. We had to cancel our trip with the kids to New Orleans for Mardi Gras next weekend, but we are going to drive up into the mountains at least. My mom is coming tomorrow to help care for me in the transition week from hospital to home. The doctors say that I will be healed in 6-8 weeks. I am hopeful and optimistic and grateful that all I did was break bones that can heal. But I'm so ready to go home. I miss my kids and my dogs and my life!