[Nevertheless] I Kept Going

What does one do when one slips and falls halfway through a three mile, hilly, snowy, icy hike, dislocating a shoulder and hip in the process?

As we have done most weekends this year, my husband and I ventured out on a snowy and somewhat icy hike. Two of our teens tagged along, hiking the loop trail counter-clockwise as Jim and I hiked it clockwise. We planned on meeting up about halfway - either at the Beaver Pond or the waterfall. 

It was a bit icy at first, as expected, but there was plenty of crunchy snow at the edges of the trail, which made the going much easier. Jim and I chose the route with the huge hill, as I'm continuously trying to challenge myself to grow in strength and endurance. I need to strengthen muscle to help stabilize my hypermobile / arthritic joints. I need to build muscle in an attempt to stave off muscle wasting due to my autoimmune liver disease. I strive to build endurance so that I can successfully hike in warmer weather, which is often difficult with my secondary adrenal insufficiency.
 

The hill turned out to not be too bad at all. The ice wasn't much of an issue, either - it just made me concentrate more on the trail than our surroundings. I'm blessed to have had Jim along with me, as he would stop to take pictures, which would remind me to stop and enjoy the beauty that surrounded me in those wintry woods. 
   

Almost to the crest of the hill, we had a decision to make - descend to the waterfall, which was sure to be magnificent in this weather, or continue on the path toward Beaver Pond. I decided on the waterfall. As we navigated the narrow, icy path, I joked that I'd most likely end up injuring myself whacking my head on a low lying tree branch rather than slipping on ice, because I was so much concentrated on the ground. We got a text from the teens letting us know they'd arrived at the waterfall, which encouraged me to forge onward to our destination. 

And then it all went wrong. It wasn't a branch or ice that got me - it was mud. One misstep and I found myself on my back in excruciating pain. One crutch had flown sideways, the other was still attached to my arm. My husband quickly helped me to my feet, my right hip slamming back into place (well, almost) in the process. As I was assessing the damage, I realized I needed to lean on my crutches, but when I went to get my wayward crutch from my husband, I realized I couldn't move my right arm. Dropping my other crutch, I instructed my husband as to how to help me pop my dislocated shoulder back into place. Luckily it went back in fairly easily. Painfully, but fairly easily. 

I stood for a moment, unsure of what to do. I knew we had about a mile and a half of icy, hilly trail ahead of us if we were to hike out. My husband broke my thought process asking how we were to proceed - back the way we came, or continuing down to the bottom of the falls. I chose down. 

Meeting up with the teens, I did my best to make light of my fall and ensuing injuries. We chatted, had a snack, and took photos. 

We then ascended the steep "stairs" back up to the trail and continued our hike. My husband had to carry a crutch, as using it on the injured arm was unbearable. The last half mile or so, I could barely speak through the pain and was having difficulty lifting my right foot off the ground. 

Finally back at the van, I gave thanks that I'd made it out of the woods of my own accord and looked forward to spending the rest of the day in bed, ice and heat on various parts of my body. 

I realize after the fact that any normal person would probably not even have considered hiking out of the woods on a partially dislocated hip, having just popped a dislocated shoulder back in place ... or going home afterward instead of seeking medical attention. One of the things that tends to happen with people who live with chronic illness and pain is that you just keep going when something like this happens.