I have always thought of myself as a rather low-maintenance person. That has changed. I'm about as high maintenance as they come these days.

Let me tell you what happened.
Saturday morning I was invited to photograph some catamarans that were sailing up to Annapolis to the starting line of a yacht race. The sailor who invited me arranged for a motorboat just for me to ride in, chasing the cats. It was SO FUN! I was sitting up on the bow of this little motorboat, mainly trying to get the sailboats ion the frames. I got some great pictures that I will post once I can get back over to my PC.

Anyway, I decided to adjust my position and, as an inexperienced boater, I stood up rather than scooted down to the bench that rimmed the deck. A wave pitched the boat and kind of catapulted me forward into the boat.

As I was falling, aside from embarrassment, my primary concern was for my camera. (It is fine.) It all happened so fast. There was a ladder on the deck.

The next second was flooded with pain. When I looked down, my ankle was the size of a nerf football and my foot was pointing about 45 degrees to the right. It was sickening.

Fortunately, Mark was with me. Once he got situated holding my leg in his lap, I heard him ask our boat pilot, Ed, to secure my camera. He did and then covered me with his jacket and called 911 before speeding off on an excruciating ride back to the marina.

I tried to get to the happy place I had been in yoga the week previous, focusing on my breathing. I was having trouble focusing.

We were met at the dock by a strong good Samaritan who fireman-carried me up to the marina. I was only there about 5 minutes before the EMTs were there. In a few moments, I was taking my first ambulance ride (no sirens) and recieving my first dose of morphine. 10 mg. It didn't help.

At the hospital, the gave me dilaudid, which didn't help either. I asked Mark to cover my foot because it was grossing me out.

After x-ray they came in to re-locate my foot. I have only seen this done by Mel Gibson in Lethal Weapon, so I was a bit nervous. Actually, I freaked out, begging for more drugs, weeping & wailing. But the wonderful Debbi Smith was gentle and kind of hugged my foot back into place. The relief was immediate. They splinted me up and I could finally enjoy the pain-killer cocktail coursing through me.

Tomorrow I return for screws and plates. I have two breaks in my fibula and one in my tibia. It's my right foot, so I won't be driving for 6-8 weeks. There's a lot I won't be doing.

But I have been overwhelmed by offers of help: cooking, cleaning, taxi service. I am taking it all, just banking some offers for future use.

Thank you to all you wonderful people. Despite obvious evidence to the contrary, I am one of the luckiest people I know.

I'm off to take more percocet now. I'll get back to you in a few days. Thanks for all your energy and thoughts.