It was the day before my husband's birthday. I was working on a failing, hopeless political campaign. Our house was a wreck, and I was busy trying to change the sheets on our bed, zipping upstairs and down in high-heeled boots, trying to straighten up because I knew the next few days, I'd be immersed in house parties and volunteer calls. And then everything crashed. I fell down our tiny, open stairs and broke my right wrist and left shoulder. Dr. Michael Gannon put me back together with plates and plenty of PT, months of it. My mom took care of me, my husband took care of me, my friends visited, and I somehow healed. And today, thanks to my husband's strength, grit, determination, those stairs are gone. A piece of me returned whole seeing these stairs destroyed.
Yes, my house is a gutted mess right now.