My sister was supposed to come home from college on Friday. Little did my family know, we’d be seeing her a day early. Why? It turns out my sister broke her leg. How? She fell off a Razor scooter. Most people would assume that after falling off a tiny scooter, all you’d have is a scraped knee, right? Try again.
My sister broke her fibula (the outer bone in your lower leg that’s not your shin bone), a bone in her foot, and the ligament connecting the two. I saw the X-ray—it’s bad. The fibula is in two separate pieces. Having said that, she actually needs a wheelchair. And let me tell you, going to Costco on a crowded Saturday afternoon is a complete hazard for somebody in a wheelchair! She went to the doctor and found out that it’s worse than they originally thought. Now she’s going to have a cast for 10 weeks… Tomorrow she has her surgery to get metal plates and screws in her leg. She’s excused from all of her classes to stay at home this week as well.
4AM Saturday morning, my sister broke down crying, realizing that this is her life now; she can’t just get up and get a glass of water if she wants, when she wants it. She can barely do anything on her own. I help as much as I can, but I still feel terrible about this situation. I’ve never broken a bone (as often as I fall…) and this experience with my sister has made me realize how much I really don’t want to. I now realize what a luxury being able to walk anywhere is, something that I used to take for granted. You know what they say, “you don’t know what you have until it’s gone…”