I went skiing for the first time at Arapahoe Basin in Colorado. I was having a blast on the bunny slope, totally wiping out on the green runs, and generally not making a fool of myself. I could fall, get back up, and then keep on going. Then there was Sundance.
Sundance was supposed to be a green run. She was supposed to treat me real nice and take it easy. Sundance was a bitch that day. I tipped my skis down the slope and started going fast. Real fast. I tried to pizza. I tried to turn. No dice. I just fell straight on my face, but mostly on my collarbone (crunch). I slid down the rest of the mountain while Andrew carried both of our skis.
"Are you sure you don't want me to get the ski patrol?" he asked.
"No," I whimpered, "I can make it."
Anyway, I made it to the little clinic where the paramedic pronounced that he "didn't feel any deformities" but that I could either take an ambulance to the hospital ($800) or drive there myself ($0). We drove. Can I add how embarrassing it is to be an injured nurse? I made the mistake of telling the paramedic as much and he referred the vomiting teenager to me for advice. Uhhhh...I'm here to get my shoulder looked at?
I got to the hospital with my makeshift sling (a roll of gauze) and 800 mg of ibuprofen on board (partyyyyy!). My nurse was nice to me, even when she asked what I did for a living. They got films and confirmed the break. The medical student following the doc around was pretty cute when he found out I was a nurse too ("Oh no, man. That's bad.")
I was discharged and sent home for the saddest car ride of my life. I cut short a day of skiing for my boyfriend and sister's boyfriend, made them sit in the ER for hours, and now was whimpering every time we hit a bump in the road. What a vacation.
So now here I am 5 weeks later and mostly all better. I have an appointment with ortho later to make sure I can go back to work at the 6 week mark. Cross your fingers. I actually kind of miss it.