How I managed to sustain a Lisfranc injury

Eight weeks ago, on Monday, June 10, 2013, at a little before 6PM, my life changed. I was on my way to kickboxing class and was twisted around trying to get out the door card for the gym out of my purse. Not looking, I stepped up on the curb and started to fall forward. As I untwisted my body, I over-corrected with my right foot, twisting it and coming down on it on the curb. I felt a crunch and immediately knew something bad had happened. I lay there on the ground for a second assessing the damage and then quickly sat up on the curb. Panic and adrenaline seeped through my body. My right foot was already swelling; I could feel my shoe tightening. I thought briefly about going into the gym to get help but figured I would be better off going home. I was going to miss kickboxing class.

I limped to the car and drove the short distance home. It hurt to press on the gas pedal and I used my left foot for the brake. I alternated between visceral sobs and calmly telling myself, you’re ok, you’re ok, you’re ok. I started worrying more and more, pleading and praying it wasn’t something serious. I parked in the garage, stepped out with my left foot then gingerly put my right foot to the ground. Immediately a horrific pain shot through my foot and up my leg. Limping was no longer an option. I hopped on my left foot to the door inside and crawled up the stairs. I immediately hopped to the refrigerator and got ice for my foot and sat down on the couch. I took my shoe off, put the ice pack on my foot and called my sister for help.

She came over and I explained what happened. We debated on whether I should go to the ER. My gut was telling me that I needed to go, something dreadful was wrong. It wasn’t just a sprain because it hurt a lot more than any sprain I’d had and swelled so fast. I felt sick.

Waiting at the ER

Waiting to see a doctor at the ER

We went to the ER. Fast forward through all the waiting, x-rays, et cetera, the doctor told me I had a fracture, a Lisfranc injury. I needed to see an orthopedist. I had to ask him to repeat what he said as I was still in shock and couldn’t understand who Liz Frank was. I made a note on all the information they gave me so I could look it up when I got home. They put me in a splint and crutches, gave me a prescription for Vicodin and sent me on my way. The next morning, I set up an appointment with the orthopedist for that Friday, June 14.

On my way home with my new splint and crutches.

In good spirits and on my way home with my new splint and crutches.

While I waiting for my appointment, I obsessively googled Lisfranc injury and was not happy with what I found. Wikipedia told me who Lisfranc was, a doctor in Napoleon’s army, and the American Academy of Orthopaedic Surgeons explained more about the Lisfranc Joint Complex. I found this, which told me this injury happens to approximately 1 in 55,000 persons each year and accounts for fewer than 1 percent of all fractures. Lucky me! My original instincts were right; it was a serious injury. Everything I was reading told me that it was going to be a long road ahead. I kept optimistic; I hoped for the best and prepared for the worst.

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4 thoughts on “How I managed to sustain a Lisfranc injury

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