My Ankle Is Broken, but not my Spirit

Life has a peculiar way of telling us that every little step we take can have profound consequences. One moment, we find ourselves blissfully unaware of the fragility of our bodies, and the next, we are forced to confront the painful reality of our limitations.

Such is the case when I found myself facing the daunting challenge of surviving a broken ankle. Little did I know that this unfortunate incident would become a transformative journey, teaching me valuable lessons about strength, perseverance, and the beauty of the human spirit.

It was a cold winters night just been (24th June 2023), around 10.15pm. I was walking my way home from my Saturday night Radio program at 5KIxFM90.7 on Kangaroo Island. Rounding a corner I found myself on the final 100 metres to our door.

Even with my eyes at my feet, watching for the bitumen path, I failed to notice the pothole that lay in my path. In one fateful instant, my ankle twisted, and I crumpled to the ground, pain searing through my body. My ankle, once strong and dependable, was now fragile and broken.

I struggled and swore as I dragged myself to my feet, wishing it to only be a sprain. I cried with agony as I knew it was far worse, but knew nobody was coming for me. Limping from fence to fence, I finally was let into the house and collapsed onto the lounge. My wife was awake, so she gave what support she could. I decided to sleep right where I sat. Dragging two lounge-blankets over myself, I had a rather sleepless night as the agony was that intense.

The following morning I awoke around 10am with the pain still there. Living on Kangaroo Island had its benefits. A short drive to the hospital, a very short wait for a doctor, and within 30 minutes I was getting X-rays: The break was confirmed to be in my Fibula Weber A.

Despite all this, I somehow find the inner motivation to fight my way through the pain, recover from the injury and get one with my life as best I could. Alas, I cannot do my normal day job – window washing.

Whilst anyone else might feel immobilized and overwhelmed by the simplest of tasks, none of this occurred to me. I’ve had broken bones before, so I am experienced in helping myself get around with the absence of a limb or two.

~ In 1986 I smashed up my right knee at SeaWorld QLD,
~ In 1992 I damaged both arms in a bicycle accident (dislocated and fractures),
~ One year between 1998-20211 I severely sprained this same ankle, coincidentally also in a pothole.
~ There’s also been broken toes and fingers along the way.

Whilst the pain is intense, and every bump reminds me of the experience, at no time have I considered giving up. I am way too busy to consider that!!

Grit and determination ignites me to keep going.

I refused to let my broken ankle define me. I have so much to live for. With each passing day, I find the courage to confront my physical limitations, to heal as best as possible, and to walk again. Whilst the pain slowly diminishes, I find strength within myself that I knew existed, yet haven’t had to rely on so much in so long.

This setback will be short lived and forgotten before the new year! It is great to have my wife and children lend a helping hand when I fall or scream. Their kindness and empathy reminded me that no battle is fought alone and that the bonds we forge during our weakest moments are often the strongest.

I now view my broken ankle not as a burden, but as a gift in disguise.

My broken ankle has become an invaluable lesson of finding beauty in the ordinary and cherishing every fleeting moment. It has forced me to slow down, to appreciate the simplest joys that life has to offer.

I no longer see my broken ankle as a source of sadness, but as a symbol of my capacity to endure and overcome life’s obstacles.

And so, I stand tall within myself but sit comfortably whilst the bones repair, a survivor who has conquered the intense pain and come out the outside somewhat stronger, wiser when walking on unpaved sidewalks, and more alive than ever before.