So one of my characteristic traits is that I am fairly accident prone. OK…ridiculously accident prone. As in I’ve torn 13 ligaments, broken four bones, had one major (and many minor) concussion, anaphylaxis twice, seven surgeries…you get the picture. Most of these moments are ones I would like to forget about.
But once in a while, one of them makes for a good story. And one happens to be blog-worthy.
A few years ago, I was living on an island with limited medical services. Translation: not the place you want to have an injury at. Fortunately, they have a great medical evacuation team. Which I have used.
I was working as a teaching assistant to pay my way through Grad School Round Two and was on Day 3. Two of my students suggested a trail run to end the week and I quickly agreed. I had recently taken advantage of the medical evacuation services on that island and was in desperate need of a run to build back some strength and to clear my brain. Plus it would be a fun way to get to know two of my students.
It was an easy 4 mile run through a beautiful old growth Pacific Northwest island forest. What could possibly go wrong?
We started off. I was breathing hard, trying to keep up. After about a half mile, my breathing eased and I felt FREE. Exhilarated. In the zone.
I was ME. I remember laughing out loud and just feeling glorious MOVEMENT.
In the stillness, we all heard a set of loud snaps. I was on the ground, grabbing my ankle and tearing off my shoe in one instinctual motion before the pain hit.
I looked up, screaming, to see my students looking down at me.
“Tell me you stepped on a tree branch and those were the snaps we heard.”
I could only start to sob and tear up the nearby grass in response. My ankle looked like there was a grapefruit hanging off the side and we were only moments in.
No cell phones, and dusk was fast approaching. We were exactly halfway. One mile ahead or one mile behind. Which was the right choice? How were we going to get me down the choice we would make?
One of the women took off running back down the path to get help. A few minutes later, others came running by. Thankfully, they did not disconnect from the real world and had cell phones. We told the medics to meet us at the far end of the trail, where it comes out on a road.
Both of my students were heroes that evening. The one who ran for help was able to get medics called. The other piggybacked me for a whole fucking foresty mile. The women with the cell phone carried my discarded shoe and talked both of us through the ordeal.
My boss said he heard the sirens wailing that evening and his thought was “Dammit, TA, not again.”
When we reached the road, there were two sets of police, ambulances, and fire trucks waiting on the two calls that were made to them. I finally felt my feelings and went into shock and was incoherent. The iron grip on my emotions was gone. The student carrying me almost collapsed with relief. She was done.
I was sent to the hospital and wound up with six fucking ligaments torn in half. That poor ankle is now at 90%, and I am daily thankful that we have gotten it back that much. Needless to say, that recovery SUUUUUCKED.
But all that set up for the awkward date part.
My student who carried me? Needed a ride home. She was physically and mentally exhausted. She deserved (and still does) a medal. She watched one set of first responders head out. As one of the firetrucks was leaving, she asked for a ride. He told her that he wasn’t really supposed to do that, but given that she was in such a difficult spot and was as tired as she was, he agreed.
She quickly and gratefully hopped aboard.
It was a short trip, probably about 15 minutes total. He awkwardly chatted her up and she was gracious about it all.
Then he asked her out.
She literally said “uh your radio is on…do you want to have this conversation?”
He replied that he had set it to one way. So no one else could listen.
She relaxed a bit and told him kindly, but firmly, NOPE.
He quickly dropped her off.
Her instinct that it was actually broadcasting? To the ENTIRE emergency response network?
Spot on.
Everyone heard: the awkward flirting, the awkward chatter…the awkward rejection. And most importantly, the moment when she tried to do him a solid and warn him this rejection was about to be public.
I wouldn’t know about this until a few days later when I was busily relearning crutches and what the vertical world looked like and ready to laugh again.
But the best part wouldn’t come for a few more months.
In the winter, when very few people were living on the island (which is my favorite time to be there!), my friends would text me that they HAD TO TALK TO ME RIGHT AWAY.
I scurried over.
They had apparently run into some of the firefighter’s sidekicks…who were looking for that ‘devastated girl with the snapped ankle.’ There had been some sort of a firefighter year-end banquet and they were desperately trying to find me so they could find my student…so she could present that poor bastard who asked her out with an ‘idiot of the year award.’
Since they had forgotten to take down my insurance info (THANK YOU FROM THE BOTTOM OF MY HEART), they didn’t have a name or contact info to go with.
Unfortunately for me and my student, they discovered my identity too late for the dinner.
But this memory will remain, forever, in our thoughts and laughs.
datelaughterz 