Grounded
For the first, and hopefully last, time in my flying career I've had to ground myself for medical reasons.
I wish there were some dramatic story I could tell (rescuing a family from a burning building, taking a bullet to save the president-elect, a freak beer-keg explosion, etc...) but it all boils down to an 8-year-old.
Turns out, much to my surprise I am no longer 8-years-old. I found this out the hard way playing tag with a buddy's son who is 8-years-old and blessed with the flexibility, stamina and quickness for which 8-year-old boys are legendary.
I'd tagged the little bugger and -- knowing what I lacked in speed I more than made up for in experience and craftiness -- had prepared a spectacular feint to avoid his counter-attack.
I made a move left, then right, started forward and planned a lightning quick reversal to fake out the little bastard. It all went perfectly well until the whole "lightning-quick reversal" part.
It was then that my left Achilles tendon decided enough was enough. I felt a pop, crumpled to the ground in surprise and stood back up with a left ankle that no longer worked.
The 8-year-old looked concerned, tagged me, then asked if I was ok. I must admit, I admire the little son-of-a-bitch's priorities.
Amazingly, there was no pain. I could put my full weight on my left leg but it just didn't work. The circuit breaker had simply blown and would not reset.
A few days later the doctor was duly impressed at the damage and it was in for surgery to hook everything back up again.
The end result is no flying for a while. I can do everything required just fine, except rotate my ankle forward to activate the left brake and, I suppose, stomp on the left rudder hard enough to keep the airplane from rolling over and killing me should the right motor fail at the wrong time.
So, it's into recovery mode. I'll try to catch up on posting some flying stories when I'm not transfixed by episodes of Ellen.
And, in case it's not already obvious, stay the hell away from 8-year-olds. They're bad mojo.
I wish there were some dramatic story I could tell (rescuing a family from a burning building, taking a bullet to save the president-elect, a freak beer-keg explosion, etc...) but it all boils down to an 8-year-old.
Turns out, much to my surprise I am no longer 8-years-old. I found this out the hard way playing tag with a buddy's son who is 8-years-old and blessed with the flexibility, stamina and quickness for which 8-year-old boys are legendary.
I'd tagged the little bugger and -- knowing what I lacked in speed I more than made up for in experience and craftiness -- had prepared a spectacular feint to avoid his counter-attack.
I made a move left, then right, started forward and planned a lightning quick reversal to fake out the little bastard. It all went perfectly well until the whole "lightning-quick reversal" part.
It was then that my left Achilles tendon decided enough was enough. I felt a pop, crumpled to the ground in surprise and stood back up with a left ankle that no longer worked.
The 8-year-old looked concerned, tagged me, then asked if I was ok. I must admit, I admire the little son-of-a-bitch's priorities.
Amazingly, there was no pain. I could put my full weight on my left leg but it just didn't work. The circuit breaker had simply blown and would not reset.
A few days later the doctor was duly impressed at the damage and it was in for surgery to hook everything back up again.
The end result is no flying for a while. I can do everything required just fine, except rotate my ankle forward to activate the left brake and, I suppose, stomp on the left rudder hard enough to keep the airplane from rolling over and killing me should the right motor fail at the wrong time.
So, it's into recovery mode. I'll try to catch up on posting some flying stories when I'm not transfixed by episodes of Ellen.
And, in case it's not already obvious, stay the hell away from 8-year-olds. They're bad mojo.
posted by Will at 5:26 PM
5 Comments:
At least your injury did not occur at a too bad time of year. I once stupidly walked in a hole, and hurt my left foot. Result ? I was in "no-flying" condition during a whole and beautiful month of August ! And that obviously occurred two days before a long-time planned trip from Geneva (LSGG) to Guernsey (EGJB).
Patience...
Great story about a terrible setback. Thanks for sharing. :)
Best wishes for a speedy recovery!
Hope you are continuing to recover and return to the air soon. At least you have a good time to be 'down' ... the wx has been icy & mostly gray for weeks now.
I've recently started IR training with Linda, and just discovered your blog here starts with that experience. So now I have lots of reading material for my own down time. Thanks!
Linda is great! I learned a ton from her and I'm sure you will too.
Enjoy the IR. It's a tough rating but it makes everybody who gets through it a much better pilot.
Other than the ice it's been perfect instrument training weather. Luckily for us the 310s are known ice so we can at least dispatch then fight our way through it to find an altitude where it's not building. Well, at least that's the theory.
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