Let me start by saying, I am on pain medication so hopefully this story makes sense....It was Tuesday about noon and the wind was howling. Since most of the crew was off this week, it was just me and Patrick on the ride that day. I am 4'11" tall and weigh exactly 98.6 pounds so I have been known to be blown over by the wind. I called Patrick to check and make sure he still wanted to ride. He went outside and called me back saying we were going, it was like summer out there 58 degrees, etc. So we met at the usual spot and headed directly into the wind.
We decided to do the new postal route and Jeff had mentioned that there was a lower track that was not as defined. Patrick and I decided to check it out. I let him lead and we headed down the trail. Well, there really was not much of a trail just what seemed to be randomly placed orange flags every so often. This section is also off camber so I unclipped my left foot and used that to guide my bike through the brush but was still clipped in on the right. I lost my balance and started to go down to the right and could not get unclipped until the last second, put my foot down, heard a snap, and hit the ground. I layed there for a minute thinking "&^%$" and hoping that Patrick saw me fall. I think I was screaming too but that is beside the point.
It seemed like a couple of minutes went by and then Patrick was standing over me asking me if I was ok and saying "oh no!". He suggested I get up and walk it off before it swelled and I said I needed a minute. I seriously could not move I was in so much pain. A couple of minutes went by and I decided I could use my bike a crutch on the right side and hobble down the hill until we hit flat ground and then ride out. When we got to the dirt road Patrick helped me back on my bike and I clipped in on the left, I could not do anything with the right leg so I let it dangle. I rode down the hill with one leg and then we got to the pavement. I had to pedal from the bike path to Patrick's house with only my left leg. The scariest part was the intersections cos I had to unclip the left well before hand and then make sure I leaned to the left so I would not land on my right. Once we got there Patrick loaded my bike up into his truck and drove me to my office. Upon my arrival there I was swarmed by my well meaning coworkers. Patrick made a quick exit and I began to get the million and one questions. It was then that I lost it, bawling like a baby. The looks on their faces were priceless. I am not a crier and anyone who knows me knows that if I am crying - something is seriously wrong.
I decided that I was not going to be able to shake this one and medical attention was in order. Mostly, I wanted some pain meds but that was the extent of my reason for going to the urgent care. My friend Marti that I work with is a nurse so she took control of my care and I was loaded into an office chair and wheeled to the elevator and then loaded into her car. I waited for over an hour for an x-ray all the while thinking it is just a bad sprain, I am going to be fine.
The results of my x-ray were that I broke my fibula above my ankle. It is a crack and I should not need surgery. I can not even tell you how much it hurts, especially today. What hurts the most is that I am on crutches for a month, can not drive, can't play soccer, and supposedly can not ride a bike for 2-3 months!
Happy Thanksgiving to me...It could have been worse, I am thankful for that. I am also thankful that Patrick was there to help me and I was not left to be eaten by the bears or coyotes or jackrabbits.