I broke my fibula last Weds while walking my 15 year old dog -- a big floppy eared yellow lab.
It wasn't his fault -- I think I slipped in the wet grass while walking downhill. One second I was looking at my feet on the grass, the next second I was looking at my feet up in the air with a beautiful blue sky in the background. I remember thinking "Cool, its clear today!!" And as I tried to break my fall heard that sickening popping sound that we all now know too well.
Thanks to all of the wonderful advice on this web site we are adjusting quickly, but its still crappy and I wish it hadn't happened. It took me until now to get used to the thought that I actually had a broken leg.
Right now its 2:30 am, husband is asleep upstairs,and I'm still trying to find the "sweet spot" for my leg on the sofa downstairs. I'm hoping things will get easier, but we'll see.
The thing I found interesting was the way the ER reacted when I told them I'd fallen while dog walking. They rolled their eyes and said "Oh boy, its broken." When I asked them why, they told me that 95% of the dog related visits to the ER ended up in a cast. Yuck. Wish I'd known that sooner.