That Time I Broke my Clavicle

It was a beautiful day in Ocean Grove, NJ and I was having the time of my life! I was working as a youth ministry intern for the summer and was enjoying an afternoon at the beach with my students and co-workers.

Now, if you’ve read any of my previous posts you’re aware of the fact that I’m not what you’d call athletically “gifted”. I also tend to be rather "clumsy" and "unlucky". So, while all the students went out to surf and boogie board throughout the summer, I spent my time safely wading at the shoreline, letting the ocean bury my feet. WILD, I know!

Students had been trying to coax me into body surfing with them all summer. Of all the ocean activities it was by far the "tamest and easiest to learn", they would say. “All you had to do was wait for a wave to come and then flatten your body out like a board. Then, you enjoy a blissful ride to the shore! It’s easy!” Blissful they said, easy they said! HA!

But, I resisted. I knew better. I knew my lack of athletic prowess. So, I said no day after, week after week.

But this day, this beautiful day in Ocean Grove I looked out on the water and saw gentle waves. I became hopeful. I became an idealist. I forgot who I was. Just then students said they were going out to body surf. I decided to join them. Like an IDIOT.

I didn’t want to lose my nerve so rather than wading out in the shallow end for a while, I quickly swam out to deep waters. The kids began coaching me on what to do and when exactly to ride a wave. Soon, the “perfect” wave was nearing us. All of us prepared for it. They counted me down, “3…2…1…GO!!!!”

I paddled, paddled, paddled and then made myself as stiff as a board, my arms shooting out in front of me as straight as could be, my legs tight together, my toes were pointed, even my face was clenched.

And just like that I was off!! Off like a ROCKET! At the time I thought must have reached speeds between 60-70 mph (looking back they were more like 3-4). But regardless of the speed I was one with that wave, with that ocean, with the universe really. The children were right, this was blissful!!!

And while lost in this bliss I failed to realize how close to the shoreline I was getting. I also didn't know that there was a harsh riptide at the shoreline. Should have waded in slowly!!!! 

Suddenly…BAM! My perfect, peaceful wave collided with the shore’s riptide and immediately I started doing against-my-will-summersaults. Head over feet, head over feet all the while salty, fire burning ocean water rushing up my nose, while my hair brushes the bottom of the ocean floor picking up sand like a Dustbuster.

I’m told now the best thing I could have done was relaxed my body so when I finally did make impact with the floor of the ocean it wouldn’t have hurt as badly. Welp, I wish I would have known that THEN cause instead all I did was FREAK.OUT. and stay stiff in my newly acquired ball shape as I tumbled and tumbled. I finally landed HARD, upside-down on my left shoulder in only about 2 feet deep of water. And dang if it didn’t hurt like CRAZY.

As I stood up in a daze, I knew 2 things. First the left side of my body hurt like the dickens and second, that all of my long hair was piled on top of my head with half of the world’s sand and probably a few sea crabs buried in it. I looked to my right and saw two of my co-workers, Nate and Nick, making their very best attempt not to show me they were laughing at me. (I can’t imagine how hilarious it would be to see me triumphantly sailing in only to tumble 50 times and emerge looking like swamp-thing).

I started dragging myself over to them walking like I was practicing to be a zombie film extra. I was becoming more aware of other things I was doing including making bizarre, almost tribal like, sounds to express my pain. They were actually very comparable to the newswoman who fell while stomping grapes, (if you haven’t seen the video, here it is…you need to...)

Nate and Nick met me halfway and asked if I was ok. I’m confident when I say all of us (myself included) thought I must just be being a baby, but this nagging pain just wouldn’t quit, so they took me to the lifeguard.

This poor unsuspecting lifeguard didn't know what he was getting himself into when he went to examine me. He barely touched my shoulder and I promptly screamed bloody murder directly into his ear. At that point, this diva got a free ride to the hospital in her own personal ambulance! OH HAPPY DAY!

My bff and co-worker Kristy rode with me and the guys followed closely behind. Although, not that closely, they stopped at Burger King on the way. (Seinfeld episode where Elaine buys Jujyfruit before going to the hospital anyone? Anyone?)

The fruit of shame

I got x-rayed and then waited in a small room with Kristy. Nate and Nick were there too….......finishing up their fries.

Were they worth it? (Yeah, they probably were)

Soon the doctor came in and delivered some surprising news. He hung the x-ray and said “You broke your clavicle” also known as a collar bone. I couldn’t believe it!!! He then explained I’d need to be in a sling for 8-12 weeks. I needed to keep my left shoulder and entire left arm as still as possible. A SLING?!?! 8 WEEKS!?!?! NO LEFT ARM!?!?!

Ouchers!

WHY DOES SHE LOOK LIKE SHE'S HAVING THE TIME OF HER LIFE IN HER SLING?!  AM I MISSING SOMETHING?

“How will I text?” I gasped (literally that’s the first thing I said). Nate helped me see that the full magnitude of this news went beyond social media restraints, “um Paige how will you drive?!” Then all the tasks that I would not be able to do one handedly started flooding my mind…. driving, texting, dressing and undressing myself, cooking, washing my hair, unbuttoning my pants to go to the bathroom (crohn's anyone?!?!) NOPE, couldn’t do any of it one handed!!! The pain of this break suddenly felt worse so they gave me some pain medicine, Vicodine, to take for the next few days. I popped the first pill immediately.

Feeling sorry for me, Kristy, Nate and Nick, being the good friends that they are, decided to take me out to my favorite restaurant, to lift my spirits. That’s right, this one-winged-wonder got to go to THE OLIVE GARDEN. WAHOO!!!!

heaven on earth?

I don’t know if it was the Vicodine or the fine Italian establishment, but I was feeling prrrrrretty good again! I ordered my standard fettuccini alfredo and nibbled on some of those delightful breadsticks.

However, somewhere between ordering my food and it arriving I started feeling not so good. I started feeling really bad actually. By the time the food came I felt so sick that we asked for our food to go.

On the ride home I must have been looking kinda green because I was handed a plastic bag shortly after we left the best restaurant in the world. A bit later into the car ride I felt sooooo sick to my stomach, that, you guessed it, I vomited. My heaving sounds were met with dead silence from the car’s passengers. Only after I had finished was that awkward silence broken with the automatic windows rolling down to air out the car. (I still laugh every time I think of this moment!)

I was now in even more pain because I had moved my shoulder while heaving. So when I got home I took more Vicodine. Unfortunately, the night did not improve my situation. Apparently, one upchuck in the car was only the beginning. I threw up the E-N-T-I-R-E night.

I kept involuntarily moving my shoulder when I would ralph adding to my pain. I kept trying to drink water, but I couldn’t keep anything down. By the next morning I was so exhausted and so dehydrated that Kristy’s saintly mother, who lived close to Ocean Grove, picked me up and took me back to the ER.

Representative of my emotional state by the morning

Day 2 in the ER was nice! I spent the day with Kristy’s mom while I got pumped full of IV fluids and I learned something new about myself…I’M ALLERGIC TO VICODINE… hence the endless cycle of me tossing my cookies after popping a pill! I got set up with some different pain meds and was sent home!

The most eventful parts of my "broken collarbone journey" was over, but there were hilarious events to follow. Like 1) me doing my hair one handed.  2) Starting grad school 2 weeks later in my sling and my classmates thinking I was into extreme water sports when I told them how I broke myself. 3) Kristy and I becoming even closer friend when she had to help me change my clothes.

Me and Kristy during better, less scaring days for her that summer

Today all that's left is a bump on my collarbone where it healed. It serves as a reminder to stay firmly planted on the shoreline letting the ocean bury my feet.

An actually (obviously stolen) shot of Ocean Grove, NJ! Still one of my favorite places in the whole world!