Against The Statistics - Achilles Tear Abroad

I’ve never written on a blog before so please bare with me but I have already gained so much useful info from this site and taken great comfort from reading other posts that I thought I’d give it a go!

I shouldn’t really have ruptured my Achilles, it’s against all the statistics. I’m female, under 30 (just!) and consistently active. I was enjoying an otherwise amazing holiday, had done a couple of 5 k runs and decided we were going to knock around on the tennis court the last couple of evenings.  On the last evening noone wanted to play apart from me, I persuaded my parents and other half to come and have a game and up we went. My ankle was aching a bit but I’m so competitive once I get going I just ignored it (never having had ankle problems in the past). Sure enough, 40 minutes in I ran forward to return a short shot and my leg gave way on about the second step and I hit the deck. I did the classic look around in confusion to see who had hit me with a tennis ball then realised that the noise and feeling were something going in my leg. Didn’t realise what at first but knew it was bad. I was pretty upset on the court but that was probably more to do with seeing another year out of sport (more on that later) than the pain.

Taxi to the hospital where an orthopedic specialist confirmed that it was my Achilles and it had ruptured (didn’t need the translator with those brutal hand gestures!) They wanted to operate there and then but I managed to persuade them to stablise me for flying and sign me off to go as I was due home the next morning. The next 24 hours included a horrendous 7 hour flight  home with a back slab, under arm crutches (I can see why they’re no longer given out in the UK!), special credit has to be given to the mental Domican porter who made my trip through the airport particularly hair raising (and almost fun?! - No hands Miss Laura!)

Landed into Manchester airport at about 6 am, home to call my health care providers who advised heading straight to A&E  so that’s what I did. Four hours later and absolutely no closer to getting any answers on what was going on with my leg I had an X-ray through the cast (why?) and despite not taking the cast off to look at my leg I was sent home with new and improved elbow crutches and a promise that I’d get a call to fracture clinic within the next 7-10 days. The less said about that experience the better - I went home, re spoke to the team at my insurance providers and had an appointment with an ortho ankle and foot specialist the next afternoon.

Sorry it’s such a long post, turns out its pretty cathartic writing about it so I’ll continue in my next post :)

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