Another glorious day, perfect for a bike ride! It had been a great ride until . . . I was on the last uphill grade. I had just made a turn and was pedaling hard and slow. A car came up behind me. I moved over but my wheel slipped off the edge of the blacktop. The lip of the road was too high for me to whip my bike back onto the pavement. I had no choice but to continue down into the ditch. I applied my brakes, trying to slow down. Life began moving in slow motion.
I took my foot off the pedal, reaching for the ground. It was too far down. Slowly the bike began to fall to the right with me still on it. The grass created a soft landing. There I was laying on the ground with the bike on top of me. My first thought was I’m so glad there’s no one around to see me. My next thought was how am I going to get up? Mentally I did a pain check of my body. Mostly okay, except for my right foot. It hurt, but it wasn’t OMG! pain.
Slowly I pulled my legs away from the bike, pushing the bike away with one leg. I was at an awkward angle, getting up was not a graceful move. Once I was up, I looked over my bike. Nothing was at an odd angle, so I began the task of pushing it out of the ditch.
A black SUV stopped next to me. The window rolled down and the driver asked, “Are you okay? I saw you go down, so I turned around to check on you.” I assured her I thought I was okay. She moved on. I knew something wasn’t right with my foot, but I figured I could make it home. Home was only about a half mile away and most of it was downhill.
Once home I hobbled into the house to explain what happened. “Do we need to get you checked out? my husband inquired. A cold pack was applied and my foot was elevated.
“Let’s wait and see what happens today. If it doesn’t feel better in the morning, we will go to urgent care,” was my response.
Urgent care opened at 9:00, we were there at 9:02. An x-ray revealed that my third metatarsal was broken. The orders were to stay off my foot completely until I could see the specialist. Crutches are not as easy or fun as I once thought they might be. The rest of the weekend found me perched on the couch.
Monday morning dawned bright and I had hopes that someone would call from a doctor’s office. No one did. I contacted Urgent Care and they gave me the number of the office for my referral. Long story, shortened . . . I have a lovely new boot to wear for the next six weeks.
Good thing gray is a good color for me.
*title suggested by my friend Raegan 🙂 Thanks Raegan!