Tuesday, January 1, 2013

"Crack".... that does NOT sound good at all.

The Injury:

Visiting my neighbor, Jacque, two houses away is something I do often.  With the upcoming holidays and the excitement of being out for Winter Break, our mood was giddy.  We both work for the local school system.  She as a school counselor, and me as a teacher. It was Dec 23rd and I was saying my goodbyes. As I was walking out, I took the normal small step outside their front door that led to their walkway.  I was wearing a pair of clogs made for people who work on their feet all day, and I somehow lost my footing and turned my left ankle on its side. All my weight came down on the ankle and I heard a distinctive "CRACK".  The pain that ensued was blinding.  The tip of my foot touched the floor and it felt like lightning crawling up my leg.  I felt some arms underneath me guide me to a sitting position.  I asked my 11 year old daughter to get her dad, while I sat there in pain and my neighbors tried to assess the situation.   I couldn't get up,  I couldn't move.  My neighbor later told me my body was shaking from the pain I was in.
My husband walked over looking quite calm (he later told me he thought I had just sprained it and was exaggerating).  Someone took off my sock and the bulge protruding from the outside part of my ankle was significant.  I couldn't believe how quickly it had swelled! My husband went for the car to take me to the ER.  My neighbor and my older daughter's friend,  helped me hobble and hop to the car. They offered to carry me, but the thought of them NOT being able to (because I carry a few extra pounds), made me panic.  What would happen if they DID try to carry me and could not?  I think THAT pain and humiliation would have trumped the ankle pain for sure.  I declined each time they asked.  But, with each jarring motion of my body, my ankle screamed in pain.  Every movement I made hurt my ankle.   On the way to the hospital,  this 46 year old woman cried like a baby.   I even think I said I wanted my mommy.

The ER Visit.

Once we pulled up to the hospital, my husband got me in a wheelchair.  After checking in, and waiting a short time, they sent me to get xrays.  I was terrified that they would maneuver my ankle to get good images.  I kept imagining them turning it and twisting it like a pretzel. Thankfully, they did  not.  They were able to get good images without moving the ankle too much.   I was so relieved!  I apologized to everyone who needed to tend to my ankle as I had not shaved my legs, and the look was not pretty. Thankfully, my toes looked nice as my previous pedi had lasted a good deal.  The attending physician confirmed I had fractured my fibula.   A splint (temporary half cast) was put on my ankle,  a prescription of good pain meds was written, and I was sent home with instructions to follow up with the Orthopedic Dr.

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