As you may or may not know, it has been snowing a lot here (in the Seattle area mountains). Most recently it snowed about 9-10” this past weekend (and 22” yesterday), which is just about right for a fun day of skiing. Good for beaning the kids (my kids, not random ones) with snowballs as they ski past me or for showering as I stop quickly with a massive wave of snow them should they stop somewhere ahead of me.
We had skied a few runs in the AM and had just got back onto the slopes after a pizza and cocoa break.
One of my rules of skiing for the girls is to stay on the trail because if you fall down I won’t be able to easily back-track and find them (the rule of thumb in our home is to depart and return with the same number of people and limbs each trip). The kids are now skiing really well and I’m almost able to ski at my pace with only a few wait-up stops! Because they’re skiing so well and generally observe the rules about knowing were they are relative to one another on the trail and where I am – I took off on a bit of a side trail up into the woods to enjoy some powdery turns.
As I plowed through the new snow, I saw a tree that had fallen right in front of me, but the snow was high enough that I should have easily gone over it. So I did. Then suddenly my left ski sank in the soft snow while my right ski went over the tree. About a milli-second later I was stopped dead with my right ski OVER the tree and my left foot and ski under the tree. Given my speed, my entire body had flung over the tree, pivoting on my left leg leaving me forward and to the left. I stopped with my entire body ahead of the tree while my left foot was stuck under the tree. I heard a pop in my knee and knew it was not a good sound. I actually heard it AFTER I was stopped.
I struggled but in about 2 mins was able to dig myself out and ski out of my mess. I had no strength in my left leg but due to the miracle of being somewhat awesome, I was able to ski backwards out of the woods and then down to trail the kids who were waiting for me. I said our ski was over and that we had to go to the hospital to get my knee checked out. Anything I say is generally fine with them as long as I have candy in my pocket.
I was mostly worried I had torn my ACL or some surgery-requiring horrible response to my inability to follow my own rules. I was able to ski down and walk with the girls about 150 yards to the truck – which seemed to me that I probably hadn’t torn anything. We got to the local clinic where they first said I had no tears and likely only had a sprain. There was very little swelling but the side of my calf REALLY hurt. They asked if I thought x-rays might be a good idea and given the fact I’ve broken nearly 30 bones in my life, I thought it would be a solid idea. I got a sticker for being brave too.
If you zoom, you can see a nice crack in the fibula (the smaller bone) on the right. It totally hurts. It also turns out 2 kids get totally bored waiting for doctors and x-rays and stuff like that. I must have said, ‘don’t touch’ about 3,000 times.
They gave me a soft casty thing which you can enjoy next to Piper’s face (below).
The girls worried about who they would ski with now and would my toes get cold. I was worried about how long it would be until I could ride and run and swim.
Plus broken bones hurt.
They referred me to a surgeon who slapped a walking cast on me 24 hours later and said that I could ride in 3-4 weeks so long as I didn’t stand up on the pedals but that I needed to keep the ankle steady so the bone could heal. So now I get to watch running on TV and come up with other things to do with the girls. I’m trying to teach the girls how to tell jokes, which is surprisingly challenging when your kids laugh at just about everything if you precede it with the word ‘poop’ or ‘fart’ (i.e. poop sandwich, poop face, poopy pants or fart shoes). We may also pursue cleaning our room, listening to mom and enjoying their indentured servitude.
I also wrote this poopy-post while on pain meds.