3-28-16
Travel Writing
Travel Essay #2
When I first confirmed I would be spending my spring semester of my junior year far away from home in southern Italy, I obviously didn’t know what to expect. I have heard many stories of people, “coming back different” and “changing for life.” So I hoped for something similar since I will be getting prepared for my 4th and final year in college at Plymouth State. But, one of the last things I expected to do about a week in was break my dang ankle while at the gym. To be clearer, I actually have a hairline fracture on my right outer ankle.
While trying to get more used to my new life in Sorrento and make it more similar to what I do at home, I obviously signed up for the gym in town. I use the gym as a stress reliever and it has become more of a hobby/interest to me, unlike most people who drag themselves to the gym and complain about it, I go to the gym on a daily basis because I enjoy my alone time in “the iron paradise.” No, I am not a typical meathead gym “bro” but, when people found out I broke my ankle in the gym I can only imagine that’s what they thought. Me in a tank top with a bandana doing the bench press with one arm, loudly grunting at all Italians who dare stare at me. But, I was actually on a pull up/dip station with not a lot of room available within tight quarters. So when I came down off the bar a little quicker than normal without checking the ground underneath me, my ankle actually rolled and received my roughly 81.64 kg’s in between two pieces of parallel metal supporting bars on the ground. Literally as soon as it happened I knew I broke it. The pain was like none other! I heard something “crack or pop” initially so I truly felt like I was going into some type of shock. I then lay almost helpless on the stairs at the gym in a country where I don’t speak the language nor do I know a single person in the gym at this actual time. So like any other smart American I sat there in pain for about 10 minutes contemplating what to do… I found a worker at the gym and luckily (thank god) he spoke English and was more than helpful with me. After getting the Wi-Fi password I was able to call one of my roommates, Tayler the 33 year old from Minnesota and beg him to come to the gym and then basically be my human crutch, at least until we got back to our apartment more than a half a mile away, or 1.1 km.
Hopelessly hobbling from the gym to my apartment was almost like torture, having about 500 different thoughts going through my head at one time I was not sure what was best for me to do. Tayler, suggested to just get me home to elevate, rest, and ice my what we thought was just a “sprained ankle.” I foolishly agreed and walked more than ¾ of the way home. Soon after stopping for a rest I noticed the size of my ankle had certainly not gotten any smaller, in fact it only grew in size! It looked like I was trying to smuggle some type of lacrosse ball inside my ankle joint, and it even felt like I was. Fortunately, when we stopped for a rest there were some young, smart and extremely nice local Sorrento boys asking me “what the fuck happened man?” While they all quivered as I showed my ankle off like some type of badge of honor to them! They told me to get to the hospital right away, I initially declined but they followed up with calling an ambulance for me so after about 25 minutes an ambulance shows up and I’m on my way back towards the gym. Truthfully those Italian boys being there probably helped me out a lot because if I had made it home I would have just wanted to go to the hospital the next day after elevating and icing my ankle for the night.
When I was first being treated at the local emergency room at the hospital in town I was sitting in a wheelchair for about half an hour before I was even attended to. Granted they can’t *poof* make my ankle better or cut it off, being treated would still be better than sitting there wondering what the doctors and EMT’s are saying and what the hell they are laughing at… But, soon after Tayler and another friend from SAI, Hunter came to the hospital emergency room to see what was up. They soon after were equally as irritated and kept asking the doctors what they can do about my pain, and trust me I was in a great deal of pain! “No pain, no gain” they say at the gym, haha just kidding I am not that foolish I know it is very easy to avoid an injury at the gym but accidents do happen. But, soon after getting an xray that night and pain killers I was told (in very broken English) “it is very important you take this medication every day in the cast.” If I was smart enough to ask why I would have found out sooner that the medicine they had to give me were blood thinners to make sure the blood in my body is going in and out of my ankle also, so I don’t have to get it amputated, have a blood clot, stroke, heart attack or die! So I soon realized this was honestly no laughing matter at all and cannot be taken lightly. Of course it can be for anyone but, me the one with the broken ankle but that is life.
And now here I am about 2 months later still with one crutch in hand hoping to return back to the hospital some time this week to make sure my ankle is healing properly and to ensure I wont be leaving Sorrento in worse condition than I was before I even got here. So, note to self: DON’T break a bone while in another country!
