I wish I could say things are better now than they were when I made my previous post... but alas. I went back to the hospital yesterday and got a "real" cast, but I still have to go back in one week. Due to the swelling I have this cast will get loose so I will have to have it replaced. They haven't ruled out surgery yet, and they say I will have a cast for 6-8 weeks and then I will have to have some physical therapy.
I've decided to go to the police station today, at least to make a statement. My sister in law is going to take me - she was a main witness. I am undecided as of yet on pressing charges. The thought of having to go to court and having this dominate my life even further for a while is rather depressing and I'm not ready to decide if that is what I want. It seems that I have a fight on my hands, whether I like it or not. The girl who did this seemed remorseful at first, but that seems to have quickly faded and I've since learned that she may have been convicted of this same offense before.
I called the bar where everything occured yesterday morning and spoke to the owner who took down my number and said he would call me back. After I left the hospital yesterday I actually went in and attempted to try and speak with the manager or owner of the bar, but was turned away. I can't believe that they turned away a girl with a huge cast on! Apparently, they have heard many different stories and that is all they would say. I don't really think it matters whose story is correct, because they had only one bouncer working (on the busiest night I have ever seen at this particular bar no less) and he wasn't even in the bar, he was downstairs by the door. I'm fairly certain that they were over capacity and the lack of security is sickening. What would have happened if I had been injured even worse, or died? What if it happens again? I still haven't even gotten my promised return phone call.
The thing that bothers me the most about this whole thing is how it effects my son. I can't take care of him during the day, he has been with his Oma since Saturday. I guess he started pulling up on the furniture, and I missed it. What else am I going to miss? His first words, his first steps? What if his first word is Oma? He came home last night to sleep in his own bed and his Oma came back to pick him up this morning and he was reaching for her and didn't want to sit with me. I don't think I can bear this for 6-8 weeks. My mother in law has poly cystic liver disease, so she can't take care of him full time because she is very sick, which means I am going to have to put him in daycare with strangers. To top it off, I'm not exactly sure where we are going to come up with money for childcare. It's been hard enough already with prescriptions, crutches, and Matt having to take time off work.
Aaaaaaaaaanyways, I didn't mean for this to turn into a big complain fest. I've been trying really hard to not let this get me down too much, but the anger that I've been trying to squash is just not squashing very well today.
Oh, but I did get a pink cast! The ONE awesome thing about all of this :)
I will update again soon, when I know more about what is going to happen. In the meantime, I want to try to get back to my regular activities as best as I can. Just for fun, here are a few pics of us before we left home on Saturday night, all dressed up and ready for fun dancing times.