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Busted Ankle - Part One

Maddie Schipper

February 11th, I walked out of my camper to unload Sterling’s food from the back of the truck. Unfortunately, it had rained since I had returned home that morning. Usually, a little rain isn’t a big deal, but it was around 12 degrees (F). The aluminum steps out of the camper had frozen into a thin piece of ice. Perfectly clear, I had no idea that ice was there. When I took that first step out of the door, I immediately fell straight down three feet to the ground.

I remember thinking that it was a bad fall, and I knew my ankle hurt. But I assumed it was sprained or twisted. My first attempt to get up sent shooting pains up my leg, and I knew it was far worse than a sprain. So I did the next logical thing, I called 911.

It took a while for the ambulance to arrive. Once I got loaded up, we were on our way to the hospital. Fortunately, the ride was uneventful, considering how iced over the roads were. At the emergency room, I was given some painkillers, and they took x-rays. I still didn’t have any idea what was actually wrong or how bad the damage was. Fast forward a couple hours, and I had undergone conscious sedation while they set the bone. The orthopedic surgeon had come to explain that I had a bad break, and he would need to put a couple screws in to hold it all together.

Surgery was scheduled for the next day. That night was rough, but I had a fantastic nurse who did not seem to mind keeping me doped up on pain medication. The surgery went well. My best friend was able to visit and brought me flowers! Then the next day, she drove me to meet my parents in Tulsa. I continued on with them to recover in their guest bedroom in Bartlesville.