It was Halloween day, and my buddies and I were ready to play some tackle football.  Unfortunately, the last guy that we were waiting for to make the teams even was taking an unusually long amount of time. As a result we decided to play Tarzan on a piece of football equipment while waiting.  We would swing on one pole, and then use our momentum to propel ourselves on to another pole.  After my first try, I felt quite confident that I could repeat it.  I was wrong.

I hit the ground and heard a loud crunch.  I knew something was wrong, but I honestly didn’t think I had broken my ankle.  I couldn’t go back to my house, so I drove myself to my friend’s house.  When we arrived, they carried me to the couch and took my shoe off.  My ankle was four times as large as normal because of swelling.  My dad arrived and, being a doctor, told me it was broken with just a slight glance at it.  It’s funny how you don’t cry until someone tells you it’s broken.  I’ll admit that I did tear up a little when I heard the news, not because of the pain, but because I knew all the rehab I would have to go through.

We went to Mansfield Methodist Hospital and I got to experience what morphine being pumped through my body felt like.  It was awesome.  Then I was put into a splint and sent home.  I missed out on my plans for Halloween and discovered the life of being crippled.

Everything bad just seems to happen when you have a broken ankle.  I’ll get done with everything and finally creep into my bed until I realize that my retainers aren’t in.  So I crutch all the way to the bathroom, put them in, and then crutch all the way back.  But then I realize I left the bathroom light on and have to crutch all the way back to turn it off.  Sometimes you need to use the bathroom, but you don’t want to crutch all the way there.  Stuff that would normally take less then a minute end up taking several.

Advice to athletic people out there, you’re not invincible.  Before this, I had been through a lot and never thought I would break anything.  It takes dramatic events for you to realize you’re wrong.  As a result, I have to hobble around for 6 weeks in crutches.