Week One: “Swallowed, chewed up, and spit out by a bog”

I had no idea that this would be the last photo of my
pre-bionic right ankle. The accident occurred minutes later.

The ‘break’ occurred on August 7^th while I hiked through a bog. As my foot went into a false-bottom (an area where the moss bed/mat is thin enough to give way to the water below), I felt my right ankle hit something hard, roll, and from what I can describe: it felt like a snap, crackle, and pop. When I pulled myself out of the 6 foot deep false-bottom, I immediately knew that something was wrong. I was able to rotate my foot and lift it pretty easily, but my ankle itself felt very unstable. The simplest way of describing it: “floppy”.  

"Hey guys...so...I think I just broke my ankle ..."

At first I thought it was dislocated, because I had never felt something quite like that sensation before.The entire ordeal involving the accident was pleasantly far-less painful than I had anticipated. I am not sure if that is a result of my self-proclaimed ‘high pain tolerance’, or the nature of the injury/situation in general. Let’s go with the former- that makes me sound more badass. Don’t get me wrong- it did hurt- a significant amount, but I found myself comforting those around me, smiling for pictures, and keeping people calm as we tried to figure out an extraction strategy from the middle of the bog…

Yup... some thing is different between these two ankles...

That evening I went to an urgent care clinic where they performed X-Rays. I was so sure that they would not find anything on the X-rays, that I almost didn’t want to go. I thought the injury might have been ligament related (types of injuries that I am all too familiar with) and I knew they would not be able to tell that without an MRI. 

The fracture of my fibula (approximately 3 mm)

When the doctor came into the room with my X-ray results, he looked at my ankle, held it in his hands and said: “you did a pretty good job of breaking this”. I was shocked, possibly relieved (because my ligament injuries had always been surgical with a long grueling recovery). But before that feeling could truly sink in, he said the fateful words that I really REALLY did not want to hear: “It is most likely surgical”. Soon thereafter, as the words “God Damn It!” reverberated through the Catholic urgent care clinic that I happened to be in- I was overcome with frustration, anger, fear, apprehension, and an all-around feeling of hopelessness. 

Boot, Ice, and Broken Dreams...

Having been through TWO significant orthopedic surgeries within the past few years, I did NOT want to have to go through it again. Being immobilized by surgery (again). Being restricted in a brace/cast (again). Being unable to drive for the near future (again). Losing all my muscle tone and lower body strength (again). Starting from scratch (again). I walked out of the clinic with an air cast (boot), crutches, a referral for an orthopedic surgeon, and strict non-weight bearing instructions. To say that this ordeal was daunting, would be a major understatement.

Stylin' hard in my hard cast.

Two days later, I was able to get in to see an orthopedic specialist. He immediately put me in a fiberglass cast (since the break was a significant one, with a high likelihood of displacement without immobilization). He took additional X-rays, and showed me the level of displacement (approximately 3 mm separation of my fibula, all the way through- located along the point of my lateral malleolus). Basically a spiral fracture at the ankle joint. As soon as the cast was placed, my surgery was booked for the following Monday (3 days later).