Hiccups

I'm not sure I know anyone who enjoys a good hiccup session.  Hiccups are bad.  Hiccups are annoying.  A bad case of hiccups can ruin your day.  Depending on who you talk to, there are countless cures of hiccups.  Drinking water while upside down.  Spelling HICCUP forwards and backwards.  Breathing in repeatedly until it hurts.  Scaring someone when they aren't expecting it.  And I could go on.

Recently, our trio had a hiccup, only the cure for it was a trip to the emergency room, surgery, 6 weeks in a cast and who knows how much rehab.

We were fishing about a half hour outside of Geraldine and came to a hole that seemed bottomless.  In order to get a better view, our nimble friend, Les, volunteered to climb an overhanging tree to get an aerial view of the water to see if an leviathans lingered in the depths.  To get the best view, he positioned himself on a questionably thin branch when "CRACK!!", the limb broke, sending him and the branch plummeting twelve feet to the unforgiving cobble rock below.  It all happened so fast that we didn't know quite how to react.  Well, I actually know exactly how I reacted because I remember giggling at the situation, ready to point and escalate my giggling into full blown demeaning laughter.  However, I was completely oblivious to the severity of the situation.  When Les didn't react and lay there in silent excruciating pain, all of us knew that he didn't land right.

This is a tree similar to the one Les climbed.

Les climbing a tree.  Not documentation of actual tree climbed.

Les dangling from branch a little thicker than one that broke.

When we reached Les, he appeared to be in shock.  Immediately ashen and sweaty, his hands were shaking and he kept repeating that this was the worst pain he's ever felt.  Thankfully, we were still close to the vehicle.  Zach sprinted for the first aid kit and wrapped his ankle over his boot as best he could to minimize anymore movement of the foot.  We carried him the short distance to the truck, set him in the back, propped his foot up on the middle console and started making our way to the nearest hospital.

The nearest town of any size was Timaru, which was about an hour and fifteen minutes away from where we were fishing.  When we got to the hospital, everyone was great.  The care Les received was top notch.  On top of this, the only thing Les paid for was the $12.00 for what would cost at least $500 back home for medication.  Anyone who claims that a socialist country has shitty healthcare would be blown away by the quality of care Les received while in Timaru.  But I digress...  One humorous thing we encountered was the terminology Kiwi physicians used for a broken bone.  Munted.  Once we heard this term, we obviously tried our hardest to use the word "munted" as often as we could.  "Oh, you totally munted it." or "I'm not sure I've seen an ankle that munted."  "Could you feel your ankle munting when you fell?"  In a situation such as this, humor seems like the only thing that seems right or at least has the potential of easing the tension, taking Les' mind off of the injury.

The doctors took some x-rays of his leg and they couldn't find any broken bones in his ankle.  However, every time they pushed on his knee, it popped.  They ended up taking an additional x-ray of his upper leg, around his knee and found a spiral fracture of his fibula, just below the knee.  In addition to the break, he tore just about every ligament in his ankle from the surrounding bones which required surgery.  In the end, Les was admitted and ended up spending 5 days in the hospital.

Very similar break to Les'.  Spiral fracture of the fibula.  Yay Google Images.

It was a huge blow to the morale of the group to lose Les to a freak accident like this.  We're thankful that nothing worse happened and that we were near help.  Had we been out in the bush... Nah, I don't even want to think about it.  All in all, Les' trip is over and is heading back to the states shortly.  No one is more bummed than Les.  Most of the success and planning of this trip can be attributed to him and for that we are all appreciative.  Again, it is a huge loss to the group and we will miss his company, his knowledge of the area and his overall ridiculous fly fishing prowess that he brought to the table.  It is now our turn to step up to the plate and pick up the slack.  It has been a few weeks since the accident and not much fishing has occurred since then.  Our momentum was lost, but it's about damn time that we get our asses back in gear and start fishing.  We've got some good stuff ahead of us.  I can't wait to tell you about it.