I had a great post for today! (And by great, I mean I liked it.) But then something happened that made it very difficult for me to acquire some needed photos for the post and even to get down the stairs to the basement to use my computer. So I'll talk about that instead.
It all started Thursday evening, on a not-so-special afternoon. Significant and I were planning on jogging the 3 mile loop at a local park. As we typically do before a run, we stopped by the dog park to let Luke run and sniff and have some non-stuck-on-a-leash time.
This is where it went wrong.
The dog park was mostly deserted, and Luke is too lazy to chase a ball these days. So I tried to get him amped up by playing with him the way we normally do, hopping around, and trying to tag him when he runs by.
We've played this game I don't even know how many times, but this time I lost my balance. I was side stepping, and suddenly I was going down, not on my butt, but over to my left side. I heard a pop.
Laying there in the bark and dirt of the dog park, I was not sure whether I was more concerned with my embarrassment for taking a spill in front of the other 2 occupants, or the cracking/popping noise I had heard.
As Significant rushed over to help me to my feet, and I realized I couldn't put weight on my left foot, I felt a moment or 2 of panic. One of the other people asked if I was ok, and was concerned with the blood and dirt on my knee, but a quick perusal showed that it was no big deal.
We waited a few minutes to see if this was a "shake it off" kind of injury, but the pain increased, so I took Significants arm and hopped my way out of the dog park and to the car. It was too late to go to the walk in clinic, and we figured it was probably a sprain anyway, so we decided to wait until morning to see if there was improvement.
Immediately upon making this decision and installing me upon the couch, there was silence as we both googled "sprain diagnosis" and "sprain treatment" and "what is a 'sprain' actually?" It probably sounds silly, but I'd never had a sprain, or a break for that matter, and had no idea what to expect or what to do. We learned about RICE.
R - Rest
And we did that. In the morning we decided to follow up with an x-ray, "just in case." The walk in clinic, while slow, was very kind and professional and they explained everything to me throughout. About 1.5 hours in, I was wheeled into the x-ray lab by a cheerful, chatty technician.
After some unpleasant contorting, she took me to another room while she took a look at my bones. The first thing she said was, "Puppy - 1. You - 0."
A bit cryptic, but, as she soon showed me, this meant there was a thin, dark line in the bone that was not supposed to be there and she could say no more (Thanks, lawsuit-happy America and your resulting malpractice rules). Throughout the day, and a 2nd appointment with a specialist, it became clear that it was indeed a fracture in the fibula, but it was a clean break, and well aligned, so no complicated treatment would be needed.
I received my new leg wear (for the next 6 weeks), as well as detailed instructions for care, and have been hopping around on crutches since yesterday afternoon. My thoughts on broken legs so far:
It all started Thursday evening, on a not-so-special afternoon. Significant and I were planning on jogging the 3 mile loop at a local park. As we typically do before a run, we stopped by the dog park to let Luke run and sniff and have some non-stuck-on-a-leash time.
This is where it went wrong.
The dog park was mostly deserted, and Luke is too lazy to chase a ball these days. So I tried to get him amped up by playing with him the way we normally do, hopping around, and trying to tag him when he runs by.
We've played this game I don't even know how many times, but this time I lost my balance. I was side stepping, and suddenly I was going down, not on my butt, but over to my left side. I heard a pop.
Laying there in the bark and dirt of the dog park, I was not sure whether I was more concerned with my embarrassment for taking a spill in front of the other 2 occupants, or the cracking/popping noise I had heard.
As Significant rushed over to help me to my feet, and I realized I couldn't put weight on my left foot, I felt a moment or 2 of panic. One of the other people asked if I was ok, and was concerned with the blood and dirt on my knee, but a quick perusal showed that it was no big deal.
We waited a few minutes to see if this was a "shake it off" kind of injury, but the pain increased, so I took Significants arm and hopped my way out of the dog park and to the car. It was too late to go to the walk in clinic, and we figured it was probably a sprain anyway, so we decided to wait until morning to see if there was improvement.
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| Road rash |
Immediately upon making this decision and installing me upon the couch, there was silence as we both googled "sprain diagnosis" and "sprain treatment" and "what is a 'sprain' actually?" It probably sounds silly, but I'd never had a sprain, or a break for that matter, and had no idea what to expect or what to do. We learned about RICE.
R - Rest
I - Ice
C - Compress
E - Elevate
And we did that. In the morning we decided to follow up with an x-ray, "just in case." The walk in clinic, while slow, was very kind and professional and they explained everything to me throughout. About 1.5 hours in, I was wheeled into the x-ray lab by a cheerful, chatty technician.
After some unpleasant contorting, she took me to another room while she took a look at my bones. The first thing she said was, "Puppy - 1. You - 0."
A bit cryptic, but, as she soon showed me, this meant there was a thin, dark line in the bone that was not supposed to be there and she could say no more (Thanks, lawsuit-happy America and your resulting malpractice rules). Throughout the day, and a 2nd appointment with a specialist, it became clear that it was indeed a fracture in the fibula, but it was a clean break, and well aligned, so no complicated treatment would be needed.
I received my new leg wear (for the next 6 weeks), as well as detailed instructions for care, and have been hopping around on crutches since yesterday afternoon. My thoughts on broken legs so far:
- Broken legs really don't hurt as much as you would think (Sister3 agrees with me)
- Crutches are hard!
- I'm tired of hopping already
- Armpit soreness - it's inevitable
- Going to the bathroom seemed really difficult until I took a shower
- My arms are going to be awesomely buff by the end of this
- But my legs are going to get very unbalanced
- They give out Vicodin prescriptions really easily. I even told him I haven't had that much pain.
- I really need a backpack
My friends and family have been really awesome and supportive. Poor Significant is hovering around me like a mother hen, worried that I'll topple over (and I can see his point - did I not just do that 1 day ago with 2 good legs to use?). And when he's not doing that, he's babying me and fetching things for me and doing all the chores on his own (I feel bad already and the 6 weeks has just begun). Roommate bought me chocolate.
All in all, if you're going to break your leg, I think the manner in which I did it and the circumstances are about the best they can be (other than not breaking your leg). I'm not looking forward to crutching in to work on Monday (and how far away the bathroom is!), but I'm sure after a week or 2, I'll get used to it and it won't even feel that tiring.
Have you ever broken a bone? What was the most frustrating thing about wearing a cast?
