Broken

I celebrated my 55th birthday with a bang. Well, it was actually the day after. We were hiking at Max Patch, a bald near the Tennessee line with a spectacular 360-degree view. I had worn my low-top hiking shoes because I figured the trail is pretty even there.
Wrong.
I hit a low spot and went down. I heard my ankle crack, but I was able to get back up. I told my husband I thought I had just twisted it, but I think I knew better even at that point. But he tends to panic, and I didn't need to be airlifted off the trail. So I leaned on my hiking stick and hobbled the half-mile back to the car before I told him I thought it was broken.
It is -- just a simple fracture. I'm able to hobble around in this fashionable boot they gave me at the emergency room.
Funny, with all the times I sat in an emergency room with my kids after skateboarding or other accidents, they never had a broken bone.