On the third fairway as I scampered to catch Michelle Wie and that trio of golf goddesses, I remember mumbling about some damn volunteer and how he grabbed Jaymes Song and I and kept us from walking down a cart path cause the golfers hadn’t gone thru. I got really irritated and was just about to scream at him but he let go of us and I marched on. Our “under the ropes” media credentials always seem to fail the media when they are needed the most and usually, the good natured, power hungry senior citizens who volunteer to be security for these golf events always seem to irk the media one way or another.
Either way, I was grumbling about one thing or anther and before I knew it, I was crumbled over gasping for air as my right ankle found a small divot in the ground and twisted my ankle about 90 deg in the wrong direction. Mind you I didn’t dare drop or damage any camera but I did sit for about five minutes a bit disorientated about where I was, why my ankle hurt as such and wondering how far Michelle got.
I sobered up, slung the 400mm over the shoulder and marched on.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YW32tLb0zb4
A bit Alec Guinness, a bit adrenaline, and a bit “I can’t let the giant or any other idiot take a shot away from me. And from my last post, you obviously know I soldiered on. I marched on covering the golf course feeling no pain or discomfort.
So after the final putt was put in the hole and everyone walked off the field, my ankle began to swell and pain like no tomorrow. I limped back to the media center and filed my images and doddered all the way home.
Now here is the fun part, my ankle swelled to the size of a golf ball and pained to walk on. I iced it and tried to get it under control on Saturday and Sunday. On Monday, there was little doubt I had a problem. The swelling didn’t subside and I knew it was time for a hospital visit.
Low and behold, I have a small hairline fracture and am now confined to wearing an air cast for a few weeks and popping Vicodin. Not a bad life with the pills and all. The docs said crack is pretty small and probably not too much of a problem but enough to get the works at the hospital…wheelchair, x-rays, ice packs, crutches and pills. I am a bit worried about the bill once I get it. I mean, can you imagine a ice pack for $129.74? I am guessing it doesn’t cost this much but I probably won’t be that that far from the mark.
The point of this blog is to show how dedication is only a word. When all the cards are down, you gotta keep marching on. You are only as good as your last job and any editor in the world will always look at you as such. If I had made a complete snap of my ankle I surely would have continued fearing bosses and the rest of my colleagues. Besides, I had to win. So if any of you are whining about the rain, ill tempered volunteers, or long distances, quit bitching. Soldier on and finish your job. The recession is gonna start taking jobs away from all of us. You can nurse your boo-boos once the job is done.
And if you are curious, I ended up telling that good natured power hungry volunteer off the next time I walked by him. I don’t care for people to be grabbing me and ordering me around if they are not law officers. Some golfers were about 100 meters away and he freaked out that I was in their site. He tried to grab me and yank me off the trail. I pulled away and gave him a few syllables, all polite of course. Don’t think he expected that…nether did I but I really don’t like being messed with when I’m loaded for work.
Oh and to really put my injury in perspective, I am not all that bad. I will probably be walking around by this weekend sans cast.