A bump in the road....

Before my Vicodin-induced haze reappears, I want to update everyone on what's going on. As many of you know by now, I broke my ankle earlier this week. And, it didn't even happen while we were skiing! We got back from Breckenridge (where, ironically, I was uber cautious about getting hurt) late Monday night, and I joined Elizabeth and company for an impromptu trail run on the Greenbelt on Tuesday morning. K didn't even know that I was going running, so imagine his surprise when he got the phone call saying I was hurt just a short while later.

I think we were about 15-20 minutes into the run with Johanna leading the way when I slipped on a (wet) rock and heard the "pop" when I went down. I have taken several falls out there, but I knew this one was different because of that pop. JB and I waited for Elizabeth and friend to catch up to us before I got up to see how bad it was. I was able to take a few steps at that point, as the swelling didn't immediately appear. Running was a no go, as was walking after just a few minutes, and I knew it was going to be tough to get out of there in the condition I was in. But, damn, those girls are tough and did everything they could to help me out. I am so grateful that I was with them. I seriously do not know what I would have done without them. After determining that the jostling of my leg was too painful with them carrying me or walking with their support, I just needed to sit/lay down while Elizabeth went on to get help. Elizabeth made it back to the car to call K and 911 then led the special rescue unit back down to where we were on the trail. I was so grateful to see her followed by a bunch of firemen and paramedics. The firemen had the muscle to get me out on a basket with wheels, and the paramedics had the drugs. God bless them both.

K was waiting for us at the Hill of Life once we emerged. I was then transported by ambulance to St. David's South Austin Medical Center and fast-tracked for evaluation and treatment. After x-rays, the diagnosis was a trimalleolor fracture (meaning that I broke all 3 bones in my left ankle) with surgical treatment needed. Once I heard the word surgery, I lost it. I am terrified of having surgery, an unnecessary fear I know. But, I am. After wrapping my leg in a splint and given crutches, we were sent home with a prescription for pain medication and instructions to be evaluated by the orthopedist on Thursday. I've been knocked out on the couch for much of the time since we got home late Tuesday afternoon until our visit with the ortho doc this morning. He came highly recommended by JB, and we were lucky that he was able to squeeze me in today. They took another set of x-rays which precipitated another meltdown when they took off the splint and I saw my ankle.

So, here we are. Surgery is scheduled for Monday with 6 weeks post-op of non-weightbearing activity followed by many more weeks of rehab. The realization of what this means in terms of my identity as a runner hasn't hit me, but I know that it will once the immediate focus of getting through the surgery on Monday has passed. At that point, I'll probably still be too focused on the intense pain so I'm sure the depression will kick in a few weeks from now. As one of the paramedics who had been tending to me was leaving me at the ER, he told me to take the time needed to heal and not push to get back to physical activity too soon. He said he could see it in my eye that I'm one of those types. True enough.

Obviously, I can't drive and won't be able to for several weeks after surgery because I'll still be on pain meds. K has been running around like a chicken with his head cut off trying to take care of everything. He just might be having a tougher time than I am right now. We both have a long road ahead. Thank you all for your support and kind words.

(Oh, and if all this wasn't enough, when K went to meet with our real estate agent yesterday to put in an offer on the house we chose, we found out that someone else beat us to it over the weekend!)