That time I went for a Christmas Tree and spent 6 days in a hospital.

Visiting a Christmas Tree U-cut is an annual tradition I look forward to every year.  My husband and I drive the 40 minutes to a large Christmas Tree U-Cut farm.  This was our 8^th year to the U-Cut farm – 95 sprawling acres of Christmas trees.  Like many people searching for their Christmas tree, we search with intention.  Our goal is to find the perfect tree.  When we see it, we just know – It’s the one. 

We arrived at the farm just before 9 am when the farm officially opened for the day. It was a beautiful day – blue sky, no wind, and the right amount of chill in the air.  Freshly fallen snow had a thin layer of ice, and with every step, I carefully punched through the top layer to the safety of the ground below.  I walked with careful precision over tree stumps, bog, and a tangled mess of brush. Every step was thoughtfully positioned to avoid any mishap. I’m always extra careful on terrain like this.

After one hour of searching for the perfect tree, my husband spotted it. I instantly agreed – this is the one. We cut it down and started the short journey carrying it to the crossroad where we can throw it aboard our truck.  I was a mere 15 feet away from our destination, and still carefully and thoughtfully shimmying on the rutted path. 

With the finish line in sight, but my feet and path hidden under the fresh green bows I was carrying, I stepped on the edge of an icy crevice.

I felt the crack. I heard it.

My ankle and leg twisted beneath me and my body folded onto it in an almost sadistic way. It was so sudden and severe; it took me a second to reconcile it. A pain so sudden and severe I was on the edge of passing out.

I knew instantly that I broke my ankle and possibly worse. The pain was raw and real. It was an odd feeling looking at my foot as it sat in an awkward and unnatural position in my boot.

It was a doozy.   

Instantly, I was surrounded by people. People who diverted their attention from their own Christmas Tree Hunt and came to my aid.

I’m not sure where my humour came from, but I managed to look up at them and say, “You know what the irony of this is? I have a mobility business where I rent mobility equipment for people with this type of foot injury. I have knee scooters, but all my inventory is out.”

That got a good laugh.

We were 40 minutes away from the nearest hospital, and my injury albeit painful, was not life-threatening, so we decided to drive ourselves to the hospital.

From the moment my name was finally called into the Emergency Room, and I bid farewell to the 2-hour wait in the triage waiting area, I was treated with overwhelming kindness and care. Without exception, everyone who crossed my path was a genuine and gifted medical professional. 

My X-rays revealed I had three fractures – including two in my ankle and my fibula. I needed surgery to repair.  I was admitted to the hospital and added to the waitlist for emergency surgery. 

This would be the first time I have spent a night(s) in the hospital since I was born – 45 years ago.  I have never been injured (other than torn knee ligaments from a skiing mishap). I certainly didn’t set out looking to break that record, but all things considered, I figured 45 years was a good run.

Here I was.

While in the hospital, I was situated in a double room – consisting of 2 patient beds.  Throughout my stay, I had the company of 5 roommates.  Each of us was there for surgery – 1 knee, 3 hips, 1 shoulder, and me with the foot. Although unique in our needs, we shared something in common – our vulnerability. We needed to rely on others for help.

Each day in the hospital I was added to the waitlist for surgery. I was required to fast from midnight (no food or drink) to be prepared for surgery in the event I was called in.  Unfortunately, there was a tsunami of trauma and accidents (Doctor’s words, not mine) in the city during this time. Icy conditions will have that effect. My injury, although serious was not life-threatening. More serious traumas take priority, and rightfully so. 

I waited. I fasted.  Every so often I would treat myself to an ice cube. One day it was 22 hours since my last meal.  Setting another record.

Sleep doesn’t come easy in a hospital.  Between the constant alarms, regular vital checks, IV lines humming and beeping, roommates snoring, etc – sleep is not easy to come by.  I relied on my Sound machine phone app – Ocean Waves – for soothing audio comfort each night. I transported myself to the Carribean. Well, not really, but A for effort.

On Day 5, I was awakened by a gentle nudge on my good foot. When I opened my eyes, I saw the welcoming sight of two Operating Room porters greeting me with a “Good morning Nicole, we’re here to take you to the OR”. 

I was so relieved.

Finally, I’m going to the OR. I was equal parts relieved, and equal parts scared. 

I was in uncharted territory, and my shadow of fear followed me on my journey to the OR. I was nervous for sure, but my Anesthesiologist had such a kind and reassuring face and 33 years of experience – I knew I was in good hands.  I put all my faith in him and the OR team. 

Take deep breaths.

Next thing I knew, I was waking up in the Recovery Room and was greeted with a refreshingly delicious glass of icy cold water.  I’ll never look at water as boring again.  How my body craved that water.

Thankfully, a healthy perspective comes rather easily to me. I know things can always be worse. Someone, somewhere, undoubtedly, has it worse. Always.

You see, I’ve been on the receiving end of dreadful news – that my twin sister was seriously injured in a car accident. I watched my twin sister laying in a hospital bed, with mechanical spinal traction, not knowing if she will be paralyzed from the neck down. She fractured C5 and C6 vertebrae. It’s been 27 years, but I can still see her laying in that hospital bed as vividly as if it were today. Her hospital and rehabilitation stay lasted 9 months, and she had to re-learn everything. She lives with a disability. I don’t like using that word to describe her, because I never see her as disabled.  She is more abled than anyone I know, but her spinal injury affected her mobility in big and enduring ways.  

While in the hospital, I thought about my loved ones who have spent time laying in a hospital bed. Waiting for a diagnosis. Waiting for treatment. Uncertain of their future. Wishing time could rewind and simply go back to when things were normal. Before illness. Before injury. Before uncertainty.

Yes, I have perspective.

I’m home now. And so incredibly grateful.

My injury requires me to be non-weight bearing for a minimum of 6 weeks so the bones can heal properly. I am getting acquainted with my mobility limitations and adapting as needed.   

I will take advantage of this forced downtime and will make the best of it.  Using a knee scooter and mobility scooter (which I have available to me through my mobility business) will provide me with the added independence and mobility freedom I want. Each day I will be grateful for the unexpected opportunity to immerse myself into a real-life learning arena. Just imagine the invaluable customer insight I’ll gain in a deeply meaningful and humbling way.   

A broken ankle and leg may slow me down, but through the support and kindness of family and friends and the use of my mobility equipment, I will adapt and carry on.

With an even more enlightened perspective.

How lucky am I.

With much and continued gratitude,

Nicole Osmond

Customer Success Coach

As a Customer Success Coach and 3 X business owner, I am living my passion and helping companies succeed by cultivating a customer committed mindset.

A Writer with Heart – I weave words together to stimulate, elevate, and motivate. My blog is my canvas to share my ‘experience nuggets’ with you! Thanks for stopping by! With gratitude, always – Nicole