A year ago today, I broke my leg. It doesn't sound like a crazy big deal, but as far as health and wealth go, I'm in a much different place. Also, I'm pretty fed up with the way the government treats people. But that's another gripe for another day. Today, to honor the memory of my totally normal, functioning left leg, I'll recount how I busted it and ruined my life.-Feb 12, 2006-
10:15am - New York has had one of the biggest snowstorms in recorded history. Evan and I put on all the clothes that we own to go meet Trevor for brunch. Trevor decides we need to seize the day, make our own sleds and head to Central Park!
12:40pm - The 3 of us trek to Home Depot, where we purchase 3 wood panels, a shitload of duct tape and a pair of super thick socks (I'm freezing).
1:14pm - On the subway platform, we set about making the most aerodynamic sleds possible. This really just ended up meaning we tried to secure duct tape handles to the wood. Evan also added an "E" to the bottom of his sled. Aren't we crafty?
1:35pm - We trek up to Central Park, entering at 59th st. We walk in, searching for the perfect hill.
2:01pm - Trevor does a flip into the snow. I decide to daintily fall back into it, avoiding injury.
2:17pm - Somewhere in the 80's, the trees part and a beam of light draws our eyes to the perfect hill. The snow is untouched and a perfect powder. There are two parts to this hill: the upper level, which includes a decent hill and a small plateau so you don't fall over the edge, and the 12 foot cliff.
2:20pm - Evan, Trevor and I go down the upper level. It's perfect, and all ours. Trevor decides to make the full run, from the very top of the upper level and down over the cliff. It's a success. Evan and I avoid it because we're pussies. We do this a few times as our sleds slowly wear down and break.
2:48pm - With one run left in the last remaining sled, I decide to go down the small hill.
2:49pm - Halfway down, I decide that I am not a pussy and will continue over the cliff.
2:49:24pm - I go over the cliff and shriek with excitement.
2:49:27pm - I come down hard on a rock and shriek with pain.
2:50pm - Evan and Trevor come down the hill and see if I can walk. I can't, but they don't believe me because I'm not crying. See, I told you I'm not a pussy.
2:52pm - A crazy cross-country skiing woman, her "lover and lawyer" boyfriend and their St. Bernard come over to save the day. They call 911 and give me wine. The woman tries to get the boys to make a splint for my leg and cover it with snow. The dog walks on me and gets all up in my grill.
3:15pm - Trevor gives me his hat. I'm shaking I'm so cold. Evan makes some crack about me peeing my pants.
3:32pm - The paramedics come, put me in a terribly annoying neck brace and strap me to a board. They almost drop me 7 times on the way to the ambulance.3:37pm - I've been pretty calm this whole time, even a little cheery. I ask the paramedics about Gray's Anatomy. It's everyone's favorite show.
4:16pm - I get to the hospital, they cut off my pants and reset my leg. This is when I cry.
6:12pm - I get x-rayed. I have a maison-neuve fracture, which means that my ankle broke pretty badly and the force of the fall made my fibula break in a spiral fracture near my knee.
After that it's all a bunch of sleeping and vicoden and surgery (on Valentine's Day) and morphine drips and a box of blood attached to my foot and refusing to use a bedpan and fighting with nurses and nasty scars (you can see them a week post-surgery here and here... but BEWARE: stay away from them if you get grossed out easily. They're pretty nasty). I stayed in the hospital for 5 days and, since my elevator was out, stayed at Mark's house in Brooklyn for 3 weeks. I also flew home to my mom's for a week, to ease her nerves and be visited by Dickie, Scott, Jeff and Mike. And use a wheelchair in a mall! Hooray!
The rest is a mish-mash of me getting better and starting work again. I had a cane for a while (on vacation in Hawaii with my dad and sister... not the greatest beach accessory), I started physical therapy. And Trevor made a website dedicated to me, and people actually donated money. How fucking incredible are my friends?
I got the plate and 2 screws taken out in November, and my strength and flexibility are slowly getting better. No marathons anytime too soon, but I'm totally committed to doing one when I can run like a regular human being. Seriously. I've never wanted to run so bad in my life.
So that's the leg story. There's more pictures of the snow day here, if you're so inclined. Happy anniversary, busted bones. Let's not do that ever again.
