Hello, my name is Adam. I am a financial planner in Washington, DC. I am hopefully less than a week away from getting permission to put weight on my right ankle. I am a research maven, and reading the diaries on this site has given me a lot of support. I hope that by sharing my story, I can at least help someone else in a similar situation. I hope to spend some time each day writing about my experiences since my original accident. Here is my story.
Friday, July 18th, started like any other Friday. I kissed my wife goodbye, covered my girls in their bed, and got on my bicycle for the 20-mile commute to work. I was training for a local triathlon. At my 15-mile checkpoint, I was easily having my fastest sprint ever.
At mile 19.5, a car ran a stop sign. My view of him was obstructed. With about three feet to go, I jammed on my brakes and hoped for the best. Gravel from some nearby construction put my bike into a skid. I fell to my right side, but my right foot was locked into the pedal, and did not fall with my body.
The wind had been knocked out of me, there were some scrapes on my leg, but nothing hurt terribly. The driver asked me if I was okay. Since nothing hurt to bad, I told him yes, and he drove off. Some of the construction workers helped me back to my feet, and I began walking the rest of the way. I felt like I had a bad calf cramp, and for the life of me, I just couldn't flatten my foot. I knew something was wrong. I called my wife to inform her of the situation and to let her know I would get checked out at the hospital.
I got my bike to the office, and fortunately, a co-worker was driving nearby. He took me to a nearby hospital, which at 7:46 in the morning was empty. I called my wife again to let her know my situation.
By 8:30, 2 x-rays were being taken on my ankle. 15 minutes later, the technician came back in to take a picture of my knee. 5 minutes later, he came back in and delivered the news: I had broken my leg and ankle.
The news hit me like a bullet. Hundreds of hours in training, down the drain because of an aggressive driver. I bawled for about five minutes, and then sat up to face the day. The doctor told me that my recovery time would be about 4 weeks. With a little luck, I thought, I might still be able to participate in the race. I wasn't given any medication, I was simply told to follow up with an OS the next week.
With that prognosis, I was in a fairly good mood. My wife picked me up, we went out to lunch with our daughters, and settled in at home for a quiet weekend.
The following Tuesday, I met with my OS. He discussed the accident with me, and decided to take some additional x-rays. With that, he gave me the news: my ankle would not heal properly without surgery. The following Wednesday, my birthday, I would have two screws put in my ankle. 4 months later, I would have a second surgery to take the screws out.
On July 17th, I was hoping to compete in a triathlon. There I was July 22nd, hoping to be able to walk a mile by the first of 2004