While it is true, I was certainly out of shape, playing ball for the first time in a quadrillion years, I didn’t imagine the stepping on me part (despite the verrrrry young resident surgeon suggesting that I probably just was imagining it like so many folks do).  The fellow who stepped on me also fell, and did indeed ask if I was ok after the collision (intersection?).

My answer was, of course, unpublishable in a family blog.

It starts, and ends, with a guy named Randy.  Randy is our farm manager, resident fly fishing expert and all around gadfly about town.  He also has a city league basketball league with his 2 sons and their friends.  Once he learned that I played in high school a million years ago, well I just had to come play with him and his boys.

The cajoling, name-calling, and general convincing took a year, and I probably shouldda kept playing hard to get!  But no, I fell for his line like a drunk sorority girl at her first frat party.

Fast forward to my first game with the team.  I’ve been in less than 10 minutes when BAM!  Followed shortly thereafter by a series of words that were probably illegal in most civilized nations.  My wife likened it to a tree being felled by loggers.  I was striding forward and just as my heel came off the ground in my stride, a fellow from the other team, running behind me, stepped on the back of the heel.  My stride pulled up.  His foot pushed down.  Immovable object.  Unstoppable force.  #$!#$, )^^%$ and double @$#@%.  I was well and truly down.

Fast forward again.  It is 2.5 weeks post injury.  2.5 weeks post mis-diagnosis.  Oh yeah.  After an unneeded x-ray (I told them it was soft tissue), I was sent home from the emergency room with a diagnosis of a minor muscle pull.  A bit of ice and get back on it in a day or so.  After walking on it for 2+ weeks, with increasing numbness and pain, the doc sent me in for an MRI.

Bingo.  There it was.  Even I could see it.  Of course, you all know that I didn’t need an MRI if someone would have spent 30 seconds and actually touched my f%^$&ing leg!!!

I mentioned that I live in the sticks right?  Even my family doc said, “if you’re young, athletic and want to make certain this is done right, don’t do it around here.”  So, off to the internet and insurance company website to find out where to go.

Up to the Bay Area to Dr. Richard Coughlin of UCSF and in for surgery 2 days later.

So, the moral of the story… don’t let your farm manager convince you to do anything!  Its all his fault.  Really.  It is.

This is my first ATR and my first blog, so bear with me as I undo any technical problems I create for myself!

Here’s an intro to me.  I’m 39 (40 in a few days), married with a 16 month old daughter who is now faster than me!  I live in rural California (I mean rural…  we’re not talking Napa here) and work in the citrus business.  I am (was?) a pretty avid cyclist, hiker, etc. and hope to get back to that stuff soon.

I am now almost 3 weeks post-op and understand why the doc told me this injury is more mental than physical.  While I am allowed to start partial weight bearing (just a tad, he says, just a tad), I am not allowed to do much else as you all know.  Some minor stretching and leg lifts.  Hitting the gym for upper body work.

Well, just like others here in the community, I want to take an active role in recovery, yet I’m not allowed to start PT for another 3 weeks.

That’s the mental part…

Luckily I can work from home most times, just heading in for meetings and the like.  I have a supportive work place that is really quite flexible, so I’m happy about that.

I’ll post the details on how I got here under separate cover.