“Do you want to see the xray?” I could hear the result in her tone of voice. My heart sank as I went around the corner to look at the pictures. Bimalleolar fracture. I broke down and cried again as I thought of the ramifications. All I could see was all the work I would miss. How would any of this be okay?
“I’m no expert in ortho, but I think that’s going to need surgery.” Is the last thing you want to hear when you just want this all to be a bad dream you’re about to awaken from. I refused to believe that PA. He said it himself, he’s no expert.
One boot, a set of crutches, and a DVD with digital images later, I was on my way to the grocery store with my favorite #1son. I sat in the car contemplating my next move while he ran into the store for supplies. I texted my OR manager. She called me with the phone number for the ortho doc who specializes is ankles. We work with him. She encouraged me to take things one day at a time, to try not to worry. The rest of the weekend went by in a blur.
Except for the second guessing:
- Would hiking boots have made a difference? I wear trail runners.
- Would hiking poles have kept me on my feet? I left them in the car.
- Was I hiking too fast? I don’t think so.
- Am I just too old for this kind of trail? I see loads of hikers older than me on this trail so I don’t think so.
When life throws you a broken ankle, sit still and rest and wait patiently for the surgeon’s office to open so you can make an appointment.
To be continued…