Sometimes even just a short trip outside takes me away from the hum drum of life, and last night found me and Thomas wandering into our local woods, the early evening sunshine bathing everything in a soft, warm, golden light. Thomas wanted to set up his new tarp from Warbonnet, and I was just happy to be outside. The tracks were dry, the pine needles soft underfoot. We (I) were singing and looking around, joyful. The softness was treacherous though, as suddenly I tripped against one of the many exposed roots and started to fly...
Perhaps it would be more accurately described as a triple jump.
I hopped, skipped and jumped as time slowed down and I started to realise I was falling.
I remember thinking to myself, "I'm falling, I'd better land so that I soften my fall as best I can." A wing suit at this time would have been extremely useful, but I recollect aiming to do some sort of martial arts roll, to deflect the blow. Unfortunately I am not ninja shaped, nor did the root ahead of me that I fell on receive that message. Forest walking isn't necessarily a walk in the park! Mountains and craggy tops have their place (and I've fallen down those too), but so do forest paths where roots of old, old trees rise and twist several inches above the ground. It was just bad luck, but laying there after landing, with an amount of writhing and groaning and wondering what the outcome was, made me wish I'd been more careful...
After a few minutes of pain I got to my feet – hurrah, nothing severely damaged! Walking with the aid of Thomas and a stick I got halfway home. That is, halfway along only 150-200 meters. I felt sick (I banged my head) and my leg felt strange, numb to the touch but occasional shooting pain under my knee. After a fair but of arguing Thomas went to get help and a neighbour came to support me on the other side with me hanging in the middle. I wasn't convinced it was broken, and neither was the really nice emergency doctor when we eventually got to see someone, but I managed to surprise him, and me, when the X-rays showed a fracture to the proximal fibula.
The upshot of it is that I have a damn sexy compression bandage on my leg from my toes to above my knee, I can't put weight on my leg for a few days, but hopefully I'll be up and walking around again properly in a few weeks. Back to the hospital for repeat examination in a couple of weeks to see that the bone's knitting. It could have been a lot worse!
So, in the meantime there is still an overnighter I still want to write up, and, although this has put my plans back a few weeks, I hope to do a longer walk in the near future, which has brought my attention to an aspect of history Norway that has but which England doesn't. I'm looking forward to researching that more, and sharing what I learn!
Perhaps it would be more accurately described as a triple jump.
I hopped, skipped and jumped as time slowed down and I started to realise I was falling.
I remember thinking to myself, "I'm falling, I'd better land so that I soften my fall as best I can." A wing suit at this time would have been extremely useful, but I recollect aiming to do some sort of martial arts roll, to deflect the blow. Unfortunately I am not ninja shaped, nor did the root ahead of me that I fell on receive that message. Forest walking isn't necessarily a walk in the park! Mountains and craggy tops have their place (and I've fallen down those too), but so do forest paths where roots of old, old trees rise and twist several inches above the ground. It was just bad luck, but laying there after landing, with an amount of writhing and groaning and wondering what the outcome was, made me wish I'd been more careful...
After a few minutes of pain I got to my feet – hurrah, nothing severely damaged! Walking with the aid of Thomas and a stick I got halfway home. That is, halfway along only 150-200 meters. I felt sick (I banged my head) and my leg felt strange, numb to the touch but occasional shooting pain under my knee. After a fair but of arguing Thomas went to get help and a neighbour came to support me on the other side with me hanging in the middle. I wasn't convinced it was broken, and neither was the really nice emergency doctor when we eventually got to see someone, but I managed to surprise him, and me, when the X-rays showed a fracture to the proximal fibula.
The upshot of it is that I have a damn sexy compression bandage on my leg from my toes to above my knee, I can't put weight on my leg for a few days, but hopefully I'll be up and walking around again properly in a few weeks. Back to the hospital for repeat examination in a couple of weeks to see that the bone's knitting. It could have been a lot worse!
So, in the meantime there is still an overnighter I still want to write up, and, although this has put my plans back a few weeks, I hope to do a longer walk in the near future, which has brought my attention to an aspect of history Norway that has but which England doesn't. I'm looking forward to researching that more, and sharing what I learn!
