Day 1: I just peed in a bottle

And it wasn't that bad. Seriously though, they need to make those things slightly bigger. I was cutting it close.

I was playing rugby on Sunday and unfortunately, in the last 5 minutes of the game (our last game of the season), I had a couple of rather large gentlemen fall on me whilst plummeting to the ground with my ankle at an 'odd angle'. I was up and off the field pretty quick and was able to put weight on my leg, so most (including the physio in the shop after) figured it was just a sprain. (Note to self: trust doctors... not physios.)

I woke up Monday morning to a rather large purple looking ankle. It was at this time that my 'maybe just in case' mindset kicked in. I went to the clinic and had that sinking feeling when even the doctor was disgusted by my body. She decided it would be wise to send me down for an x-ray, but thought it might just be a bad sprain.

If only it were that simple.

The x-ray went through and the tech told me I had a fractured ankle. I almost didn't believe her. She was amazed I was able to stand/walk on it and made passing comments about Canadians and pain threshold.

But wait... it gets worse.

The doctor showed me the x-ray and I was initially quite positive. To me, it seemed as though there were just a couple of fractures along the base of my tibia.... not like a big break in the middle. (Note to self; trust doctors... not self) Apparently, the 'chunks' off the end of my tibia are actually much more annoying, because they will not self set and need to be put back in place with surgery.

Yes... here is the cherry on the cake.

They don't like to just stay there themselves, and I get metal pins down there too. Now I get to be everyone's favourite person in the world to clear airport security with.

Somehow... it still gets worse.

Because my ankle was so swollen, I was not able to enter surgery immediately. No, I need to spend ~4 days in the hospital to let the swelling go down enough so that they can actually operate.

Amazingly... still not quite there.

To help the swelling come down, my leg needs to be elevated for the entirety of my time at the hospital. I can't go for walks, hobbles, or even wheelchair races (which I was REALLY pissed about).

And finally... the haymaker.

I'm not even supposed to get up to pee... they gave me bottles. I'm man enough to accept that humility, but I draw the limit at bedpans. The day to come which I have to defecate in a bed, I'd best be either very senile, or very intoxicated.

-Pour on the love... it flows smooth