We are taught how to rock climb right? Yes.
I'm a WFR right? Yes.
We know accidents happen right? Yes.
Have I ever broken a bone? No.
Monday, April 16, 12:45pm at the base of an Ozark Mountain rock face I yelled up to my co-worker on the rock above me, "It hurts and it's broken. I'm positive," my voice shook as I looked up and met his worried expression.
"I'll be right there! Glad I wore my harness up!"
As he self rappelled down the rock I thought through what just happened and quickly loosened my Chaco strap. We discussed that it wasn't a hard climb. We discussed that it was okay to not rope in unless we needed it. We discussed that it'd be okay to climb with Chacos, after all I've bouldered with them before. We discussed where the crux was. He climbed up, more experienced and swift. I climbed only 10 feet up, hit a patch of wet friction (I guess--still don't know how I slipped!) and fell down the rock and landed directly on my right foot. I felt it snap and swell as I rolled about 5 feet from the rock, my mind swimming with pain.
Oh and did I mention that we were 30 minutes from basecamp, 2 miles from our van, up on an Ozark mountain with a flooded creek in between us? Umm...no.
I stared at my foot. The foot went awkwardly to the left and there was a huge lump on the right...where no huge lump should be. "Unstable joint injury, due to direct force trauma" from a WFR lecture echoed in my memory as I stared at my obviously broken ankle. What am I supposed to do now? Not only was I not on the wilderness trip, I just ruined my whole summer! How could this seriously have happened? What if....
My co-worker swallowed as he looked at my ankle and agreed it was broken. My eyes filled with tears as I told him I was sorry and I didn't want to cause problems and be a burden.
He shook his head understanding, "Accidents happen to us all. Sorry we didn't rope in. Can you walk? We'll get this worked out."
He's always so reassuring and knows what to do! Unfortunately, I couldn't walk. It hurt too much. I sat back down and swallowed some more water and watched him hurry down the steep trail. He was going to look for the group we were running logistics for.
After an unsuccessful search and a return trip to check on me. My co-worker looked at me and said he was calling the office. He hiked down the trail again.
4 miles later he returned. He had finally received signal back at our van and called for a backboard, padding, tether and people to help carry me.
At 4pm, another co-worker who was out with the group showed up and as I was telling him what happened, Robert and six friends arrived with the evacuation gear and 6 ibuprofen. With a message to bring the group backpacking to help, co-worker 2 scampered down the trail. Robert helped me onto the backboard and he, and two other WFRs (original co-worker and a friend) strapped me in and started carrying me down the steep mountain. The group met up and they began rotating in and out.
After stopping by the camp to grab insurance papers, we pulled into OMC hospital in West Plains, MO at 7:30pm.
After xrays, catscans and pain medicine, they discovered I had broken my talus bone in two places and dislocated it.
At 2:30am, Tuesday morning, Robert climbed into the front of an ambulance and I was rolled into the back and we were taken to Cox in Springfield. After an unsuccessful reduction in the ER, they admitted me and around 11am I had a little surgery and received an external fixater.
In the hospital
At home that weekend...
Lovely flowers from my parents, in-loves, and Robert. :)
So now I'm waiting for surgery. I was supposed to get in yesterday, but they had some cases come in and I was bumped. So now it's supposed to be Thursday. Then I'll get a splint and be off of it for two months.
Robert has been amazing during this time and has the biggest servant's heart. I have been really blessed by him and don't know what I'd do without him. My friends and family have been great as well and offer much encouragement.
