The Update

WARNING : Thier our alot of mispeelings and grammer errors below. I did not edit before posting the rushed update. Get a point for every mistake you find.

In our first ski trip of the season, and in our second run of a nice, sunny day, Will bit it, and bit it good. Sadly, I can’t say I really saw what happened. We were at a stopping point at the top of a slope, where it’s relatively flat. I paused as I eavesdropped on some older women (I know I will regret calling them older when I reach my 40’s, but until that time, they were older) nervously dare each other to go. We were on a blue run (intermediate), but on the more expert end, with about a 40% grade, so the women’s fears were understandable if they were expecting a lower grade. One woman told the others its part of the initiation for the “425”. The 425 being the area code on the somewhat wealthier, suburban Eastside (or Snohomish county, strange area distribution I must say). This piqued my interested more, because city girl from the “206” wanted to show them how to fearlessly make it down (Seriously, I have nothing against the Eastside or 425, but we do have better restaurants, nightlife, and culture in general, ha ha). Ok, no more tangents. So, the last thing I heard was one woman saying she was afraid of falling, then, as if it were timed, I see Will rolling down, body twisting, but with his telemark skis still attached to his boot and in a stationary position. A scream accompanied the twisting, and since I had never heard the man scream before, I knew he must be in pain.

I rushed over to him. Surprisingly, after witnessing the fall the women must have developed some courage, because they immediately took off. We tried to move somewhere other than the center of the run, where we were, but Will couldn’t put any pressure on his left foot without excruciating pain at his ankle. I was going to ski down to summons the ski patrol, but I couldn’t leave the injured alone. It seemed like forever before anyone came our way, but eventually an older couple (a real ‘older’, looking in their 70’s) offered their help and alerted the patrol.
I followed as he was being transported to first aid, which had us cutting through snowboard jumps. I felt guilty as I enjoyed skiing along the sides of the jumps. At least I had the decency not to attempt any jumps while my husband wondered if he even has a left foot anymore.

First aid diagnosed it as an ankle fracture and insisted he seek immediate medical attention. The ER diagnosed as an ankle sprain. Ahhh, I was relieved, I am the queen of ankle sprains, not only do I know what to do with those, but he’d at least be limping in a week. Then the ER doctor called a few hours later, after the specialist’s review of the x-ray, they called it a fracture.

So a week has past. Will spent the weekend bedridden, except for our escape Saturday night for this yummy place with friends: WANN . Getting him to and from there was kind of an ordeal, but well worth it. Will got an aircast on it Monday and can put some slight pressure on it, although he’s still on crutches.

[picture here if I can manage to take a shot without him knowing]

And in some related news, I twisted my ankle on Sunday. Jealous of all the attention Will’s left ankle was getting, my left ankle decided to malfunction during a soccer game. It must be jealousy, because there was no other reason for it to twist. I didn’t have the ball, I wasn’t trying to get the ball, and I wasn’t even near a player. All I was doing was turning around and then…twist. But I had the final laugh because I just played on it anyway. It didn’t stop me at 10, so I’ll be damned if it stops me at…uh…25. Will it stop me at 40? I don’t think I’ll have any ligaments left at that point.