I knew it was going to be a bad day. I left work later than expected, but still in time to throw some kit into a rucksack and catch the last of the light in order to watch the deer.

I’d packed some overnight stuff in case I wanted to stay out but that wasn’t really the plan. Mrs P was away visiting her sister, but even so, I intended to return and have a pint or two at the local hostelry.

I put my glasses (spectacles) on the stairs to do up my boot laces, and promptly stood on them to do up the other boot.

I dived into my utility pack in my rucksack to extract the small bottle of Superglue. Hah! Be prepared! Since this happened to me in the woods on a previous occasion, I always carry a small bottle. Like a first aid kit, it may never be used, but it’s there in case there’s a major failure with essential kit.

I was now another 20 minutes behind schedule. Needless to say, in my hurry I forgot my medicine. I can live without it, but life is more comfortable with it. That made me decide I would definitely return home.

The woods were alive with action. A large fallow buck was chasing away two younger upstarts and the does were standing around looking confused. It was getting dark and I only managed to get a couple of photos. I tried to track the deer through the woods, but they had entered very closed-in woodland. I returned to my rucksack and started to pack up. It was now quite dark, but even so, I took time out to listen to the tawny owls shouting at each other above my head.

It was beer o’clock and time to go. I shouldered my pack and walked to the edge of the wood. As usual, I was walking slowly and had changed the head torch to white to lead the way. I spotted a gap at the edge of the wood leading out into the field. I had to negotiate a deep ditch, but I knew it was there. My leg went out and…

… suddenly I was on my back, staring at the  stars with a searing pain in my left calf muscle and ankle. My immediate thought was a broken ankle. I lay still and took some deep breaths but this wasn’t going to go away. What had happened? How bad was it? How was I going to get back? How many more questions fit in one post?

Read the next thrilling instalment. Part two soon.

Pablo.

It hadn’t been a great start to the excursion, but at least I had seen some activity in the woods. On the way out I had slipped trying to negotiate a ditch. It was like someone had whacked me with a plank of wood on my ankle.

My hand went to the mobile phone. Hang on. Let’s just assess what’s going on here. I could move my toes and slightly move my ankle. It can’t be broken. Perhaps a pulled muscle or at the worst damaged ligaments. It must be. I crawled out of the ditch and into the field. The exertion caused my breath to form a stream of white vapour from my mouth as the temperature dropped.

Well, if ever there was anyone more prepared for this, it was me. I had a sleeping bag, bivi bag, food, water (no I didn’t – I’d poured it away to walk out, stupid!) knife, firesteel, whistle, light-stick, kitchen sink and good clothing. I would survive.

OK. Before we call the cavalry, let’s try and stand up. I pushed myself up hopping on the good leg. And the other leg? I gingerly placed it on the deck. Yes, that hurt. A lot. A shooting pain went up the back of my leg. I would need a walking stick; but to cut one, I would have to go back into the woods. I don’t think so.

Some semblance of logic and rational thought returned. If this was a calf muscle injury, I wouldn’t be able to extend and flex the foot but I might be able to bear some weight with the foot angled out at 90 degrees. Well, that was less painful. I was kind of mobile. All I had to do now was walk, I mean limp, the half mile across the field, negotiate another ditch, follow a tarmac road for 200 yards and I would reach the car. No problems.

I had my first aid kit of course, but to strap up the leg would be a waste of time and effort. The high legged surplus army boots seemed to be doing a reasonable job of supporting the bottom of the leg.

I followed a deer trail at the edge of the field and bizarrely, I scolded myself for walking on the tracks, but I had no option other than a deeply rutted, muddy field. I counted my steps and kept the head torch firmly pinned to the area in front of me as I shuffled Quasimodo style toward the road.

I’ve been injured before and have had to persevere to get medical attention. A kind of survival instinct takes over and the adrenaline rushes to the parts of the body where it’s needed, which of course, is exactly what it’s designed to do. There’s a sense of euphoria and you actually feel good, which in turn provides you with some extra determination to drive you onwards to your goal despite the pain.

I had no option but to crawl on hands and knees to get across the   other ditch. I wasn’t going to risk further injury by another slip. The tarmac of the road was bliss! The smooth surface provided fewer jolts and I began to reflect on what happened.

What had I done wrong? I was walking slowly and carefully. I always preach slowing down in the woods and I follow my own advice. Ironically, about this time two weeks ago, I was walking through a wood, barefoot, blindfolded with one ear bunged up! I had a torch on. I had high-leg boots on and not my tracking boots, which probably saved me from a more serious injury. I would have had to negotiate the ditch wherever I exited the woods. It was very slippery underfoot. A momentary lapse of concentration? I had slipped and fallen. Well, that was about it. I should have stayed in the woods was the only chastisement I could administer to myself.

At last the car. I slung the kit in the back and started her up. Now this would be interesting. My injured left foot just couldn’t depress the clutch. Another series of shooting pains reminded me that actually, my left foot was useless. It was only a five minute journey home. Mrs P wasn’t there but the cavalry, in the form of my mate who lived close by, could still be called.

I’d got this far, so I wasn’t going to give up now. I used my right foot on the clutch and slowly got old Doris moving. You can change gear without the clutch at the right revs, but I decided to stay in first gear. It was only a mile and a half. Luckily, there’s very little traffic around our country lanes, and it wasn’t long before I landed outside the front door with a judder and a screech as a heavy right foot descended on the brake, stalling the car in the process.

Once inside the house, I quickly disrobed and took off my socks. Immediately I saw the problem. Right foot Achilles tendon – present and correct; left foot Achilles tendon – Absent Without Leave. It appeared I’d ruptured my Achilles heel. Nice one!

This was confirmed 3 hours later at the hospital, (thanks Paul, for waiting about for me) where, amongst other things, an appointment was made to attend the fracture clinic next week.

At least we made it back to the pub for last orders. Perhaps not such a disaster after all.

So, what am I going to do for the next six to eight weeks? Ever the optimist… I’ve got a few cunning plans!

Please send all flowers, get well soon cards, grapes, port wine and brandy to this address …

Thanks for the visit,

Pablo.

Firstly, thank you all for your kind comments about the injury. Honestly, I was overwhelmed.

To answer some questions in bulk – yes, that was a deer staring at me. Can’t you see it grinning? Yes, the demi-john is full of gin (summer fruits mix). Yes, my legs are scary – however they have beaten Kriss Akabusi (on one occasion!)

This is the last post about the injury except perhaps to update on progress every now and again. I’ll get back to the outdoors posts -from indoors (if you see what I mean) next time.

The treatment plan is to keep the foot in plaster for 2-weeks. It’s got to be elevated at all times and no pressure on the foot. The foot was angled downwards with toes pointing to the floor before the plaster was put on (that smarted) so it’s almost impossible to put the foot down anyway.

Every two weeks the foot will be lifted, re-positioned (looking forward to that) and re-plastered until on the sixth week it will be in its normal position. At this time or shortly after it should be able to bear weight and then the physiotherapy can be started.

I found a Mountain Bike forum which charted the same injury for two of its members and found some very useful information. The worst fear is a re-rupture, which actually happened to one of the members. Unfortunately, this is a pretty common occurrence. The message put across was not to rush things, take it easy and don’t start your activity too soon. It’s only after 9 months (!) that you can safely carry out intensive activity. I think wandering in the woods won’t count as intensive activity, but I’m still going to have to be extremely careful walking up hills on uneven ground, carrying weight and of course slipping and stumbling.

The Achilles tendon is the longest and strongest tendon in the body. It is prone to damage because of the stresses and strains put on it. I’m not surprised if my previous years of intensive track and field competition haven’t weakened it somewhat. Unfortunately, this is an injury which probably takes the longest time to heal.

So what have I been doing? As the swelling subsided, the pain got a bit worse, but it seems ok now. I don’t really like taking tablets but found that Paracetamol and Ibrobrufen taken together is a very effective pain-killer (as recommended by the hospital.)

I’ve started to exercise the rest of my body (no use letting the rest of it waste away) but no ‘shrafting projects as yet except the odd bit of knife sharpening.  I’ve been looking at leather work stuff, but I’m not sure how to go about it. I’m going to have to seek advice from the leatherwork gurus on the forums.

Getting around is a pain but already I’ve adapted by thinking like you do in the outdoors. The key is to be organised. I’ve got a shoulder bag to put all the things I normally leave laying about the house (phone, book, pipe, lighter, sweets.) I also make a flask of tea in the morning (saves spilling cups when hopping about!) Mrs P didn’t allow me to set up a Trangia in the lounge. Lunchtime sandwiches are also stored in the shoulder bag.

I can see this is injury is going to be expensive. I’ve already bought knife on Ebay since being off. It’s just a comfort purchase to make me feel better – you know how it is

All the best,

Pablo.

With Mrs P’s help, I went out for my first short trip since the ATI (Achilles Tendon Injury). I’ve been following the hospital advice to the letter and have kept the leg elevated 95% of the time. The first week was really painful and I had to resort to taking Ibrobrufen painkillers. The second week was better although I started to really get frustrated that I couldn’t get out and about. The foot has been plastered so that the toes are pointing to the ground therefore I can’t put any weight on it even if I wanted to. I can go short distances on the crutches but then the injured foot starts to ache as the fluids move to the injured area.

Day 19

0800 – Get up. Endeavour to wash etc etc and get dressed
0900 – Commence hopping downstairs
0910 – Arrive downstairs. Make morning flask of coffee – Hop into chair.
0920 – Sit in chair – Watch squirrels in garden. Check time to confirm it’ll be another 8 hours before human contact

0930 – Access internet. Look at all useless kit sites
0932 – Promise self not to buy any useless kit
0934 – Promise self to buy any more useless kit
0936 – Look at all good and expensive kit sites
0938 – Promise self not to buy any good and expensive kit
0940 – Promise self not to buy any more good and expensive kit
0945 – Watch squirrels. Check time.

1000 – Have fun trying to extract apple from fruit bowl on coffee table using only crutches
1005 – Give up trying to extract apple from fruit bowl on coffee table using only crutches
1010 – Coffee break
1020 – Watch time and check squirrels

1030 – Hop over to hat stand.
1030 – Narrowly avoid tripping over apples on floor

1031 – Try on hats
1035 – Hop back over to chair.
1040 – Coffee break
1045 – Access internet. Check kit sites to see if anything has been added in the last hour and a half
1100 – Watch squirrels

 
1105 – Check blogs, web sites and other bushcrafft forums
1200 – Check watch. Wonder in amazement how time flies when you’re having fun.
1205 – Lunch. Examine the possibility of setting up Trangia in lounge.
1206 – Decide against setting up Trangia in lounge
1210 – Hop into kitchen and collect sandwiches and glass of juice
1215 – Decide against hopping back to chair with glass of juice in hand
1230 – Eat sandwiches – Watch squirrels – Check time
1300 – Start listening out for postman

1315 – Google “Cabin Fever”
1330 – Joy of joys – Postman arrives!
1335 – Curse at postman for not bringing any useless or expensive kit
1340 – Try on hats
1345 – Access internet. Check to see if any blogs or new posts have been added . Oh… check on new kit.
1400 – TV time! Access TV for good documentatries
1405 – Switch off TV
1410 – Postman asks if he can be released
1415 – Eat squirrels – Check sandwiches – Watch time

1420 – Decide to explore house – Commence crawling upstairs

1440 – Arrive in study and open bushcraft wardrobe – commence playing with bushcraft stuff
1535 – Check watch. Wonder in amazement how time flies when you’re having fun
1536 – Realise in horror that it’s time for exercises
1540 – Commence journey downstairs
1550 – Commence exercises
1555 – Complete exercises
1600 – Hop back into chair – Watch squirrels

1605 – Start watching dusk fall
1630 – Cease watching squirrels – too dark
1635 – Check watch – Realise human contact is now less than 1 hour away – Wonder where the day has gone
1645 – Hop into kitchen and follow Mrs P’s food prep instructions for dinner

1650 – Decide leg hurts – unable to complete dinner prep task – Hop back to chair
1710 – Check watch – Human contact now less than 30 minutes away – Worry about consequences of inability to complete dinner prep task.

1720 – Clear up sandwich debris – Remove apples from floor
1725 – Practice pretending to be miserable and in pain to extract maximum sympathy
1730 – Human contact! Commence describing highly eventful day. Fall about laughing when describing fun with apples
1732 – Cease describing eventful day and laughing about apples when confronted about failure to complete dinner prep task

1740 – Commence normal evening routine.

Day 20

0800 – Get up. Endeavour to wash etc etc and get dressed
0900 – Commence hopping downstairs
0910 – Arrive downstairs. Make morning flask of coffee
0920 – Sit in chair – Watch squirrels in the garden. Check time to confirm it’ll be another 8 hours before human contact

Has it been 32 days since my Achilles Tendon rupture? Seems like only yesterday. Doesn’t time fly when you’re having fun?

Actually, the time is passing relatively well. I went back to work last week, which helped a little – although of course, I’ve been stuffed in a downstairs office and it’s far from ideal.

The last couple of weeks have been pain free although I did develop a little back pain I suppose from hopping about on one leg. It’s impossible to keep the leg elevated all the time as per doctor’s orders. But I rest it as much as I can.

I haven’t done all the craft stuff I intended to do, but I have busied myself by doing a lot of research, reading and writing a few articles.

I’ve also kept myself busy working on this website and the Woodlife Network. You can probably see a couple of new tabs at the top of this page.

The good news is that the trip to the hospital today was quite fruitful. They repositioned the foot and put another plaster on. Before they did this I could actually move the foot up and down a little bit. Even though I still can’t bear weight on the foot I’m able to steady myself on two feet a little easier as the foot is at a less obtuse angle.

In two weeks time I have to report back to the hospital complete with two shoes. This is a good sign. Two shoes are definitely good and provides a little light at the end of the tunnel. 

Thanks for the visit.

Pablo.

I wrapped the plaster in a polythene bag, put on some waterproof trousers, and pulled a boot onto my good foot. I packed a flask of tea and few bits in my day sack and wrapped up against the cold.

I bribed Mrs P to take me to the edge of the most accessible woods and, after a few minutes under her watchful eye to see if I could negotiate the initial muddy ruts, I was into the woods. I’d escaped!

I hobbled in about 100 yards and sat down on a log. The first thing that struck me was that all the leaves had gone. I had trouble comprehending that it was at the end of October when I was last here. The sun was shining through the bare branches and I soaked it up as though I’d never seen it before.

I knew I’d get cold if I didn’t move around, so I set about erecting the tipi I’d recently bought from Dawn. I’ve always wanted one even though I prefer tarps, but I couldn’t help being impressed by this ultra-light Titanium Goat (the makers) Vertex tipi. It took a while, but I managed to set it up although obviously it wasn’t as elegant or as taut as it could have been. I’ll certainly make use of it and I’ll talk about it more at a later date.

It was too nice to sit in it and so I went back to the log and had a cup of tea and watched the wood. There didn’t seem to be a lot of activity although I did notice a pheasant, the odd squirrel and the usual noisy rooks. Although the sun was bright, there was a a cold north-westerly wind. I was glad I had my swaani underneath my old wax jacket and the shemagh wrapped around my neck.

I was conscious that my allotted two hours would soon be up, so I packed away the tipi and proceeded to go on a hobble-about. The good thing about travelling this slowly is that you don’t miss much and perhaps a lesson even for me who walks slowly anyway. The slower you go, the more you see. I picked up some old mutjac tracks and some smaller rodents, probably rat and squirrel tracks. I had to concentrate hard to make sure I didn’t slip but even so, after 20 minutes, I was surprised to see that I had actually come so far.

I spent the last quarter of an hour sitting down with my back to a tree as the light started to fade in the hope I would see some muntjac; but nothing emerged. I was duly collected and returned to base feeling elated. It was so great to be out in the woods again, albeit for a short time, and I’d actually achieved something by setting up the tipi. One small step… and all that.

Thanks for the visit.

Pablo.

This is the conversation that took place between Pablo and his team of eminent physicians at the hospital last Monday.

Dr – So, it’s been 4 weeks now in a cast.

Pablo – It’s been 6 weeks.

Dr – Oh, right. Let me see (consults notes). Ah, yes – 6 weeks. So we’re going to put on another cast after repositioning the foot.

Pablo – No, we’re taking off the cast and we’re putting a heel raise in my shoe.

Dr – Well, it’s a bit soon.

Pablo – I was told 2 weeks ago by the plaster technician to bring my other shoe and a heel raise.

Dr – It seems there’s been a mix up on the dates.

Pablo – Really?

Dr – Yes.

Pablo – Perhaps that accounts for me attending here in week two and being told I need not have come.

Dr – Well, it does appear that there’s been a mix up on the dates.

Pablo – I would suggest you never work in the Cardiology department.

No response.

[Pablo then hobbles to see the plaster technician]

PT – OK, we’re leaving this cast on for another two weeks.

Pablo – No, we’re taking this cast off and repositioning the foot to the normal position and putting on a new cast.

PT – Oh… right. I’d better check with the doctor.

Pablo – Yes. You’d better check with the doctor.

[Plaster technician returns after 5 minutes]

PT – Right. We’re taking this cast off and repositioning the foot to the normal position and putting on a new cast.

Pablo – Excellent. I thought you might. By the way, what shall I do with the heel raise you told me to bring last time.

PT – Well, it does seem you’ve had a bit of bad luck with the dates.

Pablo – Yes. Bad luck really does follow me around in this hospital. I’m not too sure why.

PT – There we go. All done. See you in two weeks with the heel raise.

Pablo – Are you sure?

Despite yet another set back and a couple of day’s pain after repositioning the foot, I took advantage of today’s fine weather and walked further than I have in the last 7 weeks – but of course, keeping to the solid paths of the Forestry Commission’s Broaks Wood.

Bill (who’s staying with us for a while) and Mrs P. had great fun galloping ahead then doubling back while I advanced slowly to catch them up. I really must get Billy a camo jacket.

My new “tracking shoe” helped me keep my foot level to the ground and stopped the cast getting wet and muddy. Hiking socks kept the cold air off my delicate toes.

It felt great walking some distance even if I did have to rely heavily on my walking stick – the crutches were thankfully discarded on this occasion. There appeared to be no painful after effects from the exercise.

On this day of the winter solstice I took in the quiet, sleeping woods and looked forward to the time when they would awake. With any luck, I’d be there when they did.

Thanks for the visit.

Pablo.

What joy! Wonderful! Brilliant! Fantastic! It’s gone! That damn cast… gone forever; hopefully!

Things to do when a cast is removed:

1) Have a good scratch

2) Have a 30 minute shower

3) Compare limbs and wonder where the leg muscles went

4) Go for a walk to see if it hurts

Things not to do when a cast is removed:

1) Scratch too hard

2) Get in the shower before figuring out a way of getting out of it again

3) Worry about how to get the muscles back

4) Walk too far – ‘cos it will inevitably hurt

Unbelievably, no supporting bandages and no physio required. In actual fact, I quite happy to complete the rest of the recovery process myself.

Today part of this recovery process involved a 40 minute walk in my new North Face Cedar Ridge hiking boots; a surprise Christmas gift from Mrs P.  (“You won’t slip down ditches with those on,” said Mrs P on Christmas day. “The man in the shop said so. He also said they are the best ankle supporting boots on the market.”) I also got 2 pairs of Brasher 4000 hiking socks and a set of thermals.

The boots certainly did support the ankle extremely well, although I didn’t try the ditch for obvious reasons. Although walking stiffly and with a bit of a limp I felt little or no discomfort except later at the bottom of the heel. I was also ably assisted by Ashley’s (naturalbushcraft) fantastic gift of a Polecat walking pole kindly donated by him during my darkest hours.

So, I hereby declare I’m fit enough for the first excursion of the year; a 3 day meet this weekend down at Mark’s wood. Temperature is expected to be -2C. A good chance to test out my new Alpkit 800 down bag and those Christmas thermals.

Happy New Year to everyone.

Pablo.

Under The Knife

After a slight mishap last weekend and 4 trips to the hospital later, we’ve all decided that the best thing to do is it have surgery on my Achilles Tendon to sew it all back together. The ultra-sound scan revealed that I have indeed re-ruptured it.

The chances of re-rupture after surgery is significantly decreased as opposed to passive treatment and apart from the usual complications involved with surgery, the benefits are clear. So, next Tuesday morning I go under the knife.

The big draw back is that the recovery time is the same and I will be in a damned cast for 6 to 8 weeks, so I will have to relive the frustration of being immobile all over again.

This isn’t the case at the moment as they’ve given me a brilliant piece of kit called an Aircast. The cast has a heel raise and you pump up the cast in 4 places to surround the injury with an air bladder. It supports the whole leg and you can put your full weight on the leg without any discomfort whatever. Robo-tracker or what! (Cost £110-00 per boot!!)

I really wish that they would give me one of these after the Op but it seems this won’t be the case. This is really annoying.

Billy doesn’t really care what cast I have. I think we’ll borrow him for a couple of months to keep me company.

Apparently, the surgeon won’t know exactly what he’s going to do until he opens up the ankle. It will depend on how much the tendon has retracted. It might be a case of simply sewing the two ends together or, if the tendon has retracted too far, he will have to cut a bit of tendon from my toe and stitch that onto the Achilles. There’s two in-between procedures which he tried to explain to me, but I was a little bored by then (having already spent 6 hours at the hospital on this occasion) and resigned myself, in a slightly self-pitying manner, to my fate.

[Image from www.pyroenergen.com]

This state of mind didn’t last too long and, even as they were extracting vast amounts of blood from my arm for the pre-op tests, I started planning a “last” trip to the woods on Sunday and a project or two during my recovery period.

At least I know what to expect and I console myself knowing that all being well, I fully expect to be out of the cast on 20th March, just in time for spring! Let me see that’s 16 twice weekly blog posts…or… 56 days… or … 1344 hours…

Thanks for the visit.

Pablo.