There's something about lying in a hospital bed that changes your perspective.
My right ankle is crushed. Every movement reminds me of it. I finally drifted off to sleep, not because the pain had gone away, but because I was simply exhausted from fighting it.
The next thing I knew, the room came alive.
My heart rate had climbed to 170.
I wasn't walking. I wasn't exercising. I was asleep.
The nurses moved me to a room closer to their station. One of them looked at me and said with a smile that managed to be reassuring and serious at the same time, "Don't scare us like that!"
Those words stuck with me.
Sometimes we convince ourselves that if we just stay quiet, if we just endure the pain a little longer, everything will somehow work itself out. But the human body has a way of speaking up when we've pushed it too far.
Tonight, mine did.
I'm grateful for the nurses and doctors watching over me. They saw something that needed immediate attention and acted without hesitation. That's exactly who you want around when life suddenly reminds you how fragile it can be.
I'll keep everyone updated as I learn more. For now, I'm still here, still fighting, and still looking forward to the day this ankle heals and I can get back on my three wheels.
One heartbeat at a time.
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