The fear of falling has never left me. I've fallen at least six times since my climbing accident. None of them were a big set back until this week. This fall was a major one. It is as big of a jolt as when I learned I had a second frozen shoulder.
I was heading home after riding my mountain bike in the mud and snow. My first time out in those conditions. My confidence was high but not cocky. Only 15 minutes from home, while taking a corner on the bike path, I made a maneuver with my upper body that abruptly threw my balance off causing the extra knobby tires that I had specifically chosen for greater stability on trails to skid out on the smooth pink concrete surface. It happened in a flash with no time to react. I yelled out in agony when my left side hit the pavement. I was in complete shock.
Only minutes later, a man named Jordan showed up by my side. He had seen me fall. I asked him to hold my hand. In between sobs, I told him, "NO--don't call an ambulance!" Then a cop arrived. I refused to let him call for help. The next thing I know the sheriff is there and I hear the sirens from the approaching firetruck. Someone kept telling me "to take deep breaths." I knew I was hurt. My inner thigh muscles felt ripped off the bone and my pubic bone ached. Even though I remember slamming my head, I still felt crystal clear. Thank-goodness for my bike helmet. When I learned the paramedics could check me out for free and I did not have to get in the ambulance, I agreed to let them come. I tried to explain that I was having a hard time knowing what to do. I was absolutely terrified of going back to the emergency room in an ambulance. No one around me could understand what I was experiencing and I could not stop crying.
The concrete felt like I was laying on a table of ice. I started to shiver uncontrollably. Two paramedics began checking me out. My neck was okay--that was my biggest worry. Before I tried to sit up, I rolled to my side. That's as far as I got. I could not return to my back or sit up. Before being carted away, I left a message for Matt.
It turns out I have a pelvis fracture of the pelvic ring. I got sent home on crutches with a pain med prescription and advised to see an orthopedic surgeon. Fortunately, I won't need surgery. According to the doctor, the bones will take 6-8 weeks to heal. The rehab is slow and a nuisance. He said, "Expect to be feel better by summer."
I can't say much more about this other than I am still in shock. Matt is also in shock to be in the role of care giver again. I know we will need help. I just don't know what yet.
I am grateful I did not hurt any other parts. I did not loose consciousness. I can use both my arms.
I will be able to swim. And, mostly I feel strength accessible to me because of everything I've been through.
Since it's now been over two months since my two year anniversary, what I learned in my second year of recovery is patience, acceptance and immense joy to be alive. I have a feeling I am going to learn a lot more in the coming weeks and months.
