I read yesterday that amputees mourn the loss of a limb as if it were a spouse. That surprised me. But now that I think about it, as much as this ankle has hurt me over the last three years, not having it after 31 years of life is going to be a shock to the system. After all, it wasn't my ankle's fault that it got crushed with a head-on collision with a tree. It was my awesome snowboarding skills that did that.
My bad, ankle.
I decided that with the seven days I have left with this ankle, I should try to do my best to remember it by documenting it with my camera. I recently borrowed a macro lense from a friend to get some close-up shots of the ankle scars. Here are a few up-close photos of the ankle landscape.
The scar at the bottom is from this wound from 2010. There are actually three scars in this photo. There's another one above the huge dimple. The one on the bottom right of the picture is from the fracture blister right after the accident.
This scar is from two incisions in the same spot. Here's the first one a few days after the surgery in March 2010.
You can't tell from this picture, but the malleolus is full of cracks and valleys.
This is The Friendship Scar, named after the fact that I went on a snowboarding trip to Breckenridge without inviting some old ski buddies. In other words, I deserved this!
It's weird to say it, but in a way I'm going to miss this ankle. Primarily because I'm used to it being there. This morning I drove into work using my left foot on the gas and brake pedals. I've been practicing this for the last month. Halfway there I got tired of reaching over with my left foot so I decided to switch back to the right. After next week, I won't have the luxury of switching back to normal after getting uncomfortable. I'll be permanently stuck with my left foot for the rest of my life.
That's very surreal to write.
You are one lucky dude to have married Brooke anyway, but little did you know her strong nurse's stomach would come in so handy! Fortunately she is a chick who digs scars.
ReplyDeleteTotally random story. I don't love scars, yet I can't look away when I see one. My darling husband has two gigantic scar-like gashes on each shoulder, which I gaped at (probably with my mouth hanging open) the first time I saw him with his shirt off (which he probably interpreted as me being blown away by his physique). He told me with a completely straight face that they were scars from a knife fight.
Just let that sink in for a minute. Nick Pettyjohn. In a knife fight. Severely scarred for life. By dudes with KNIVES.
The saddest part of this story is that I believed him. For the record, only 19-year-old Aubrey would believed a story like that. In reality, Nick's "knife fight scars" are stretch marks from weightlifting in high school. He can still deliver wild stories with a completely straight face, but after ten years of marriage I don't immediately fall for it every time.
hello Snow Boarder
ReplyDeleteI've been popping onto your blog for ummm .. about 2 years - haven't been on a-while. I had a TPF type V1 with complications of right leg, so spent many hours in the wide web space ..
Popped on to-day, and in the interim you have made a huge decision.
Thinking of you, wishing you all the best and looking forward to your future snowboarding posts.
cheers, ana