We arrived in La Ventana excited, but a little nervous, for our kiteboarding lessons.
The program is well set up to get you kiting (ish) in 3 days. First day, you learn about rigging and safety systems, fly a trainer kite on the beach, fly a slightly larger kite on the beach, then do a tandem body drag (where you fly the kite which drags you and the instructor through the water). Second day is a little like controlled drowning, the instructor follows you on a standup paddleboard talking to you through a radio in your helmet, while you do more body dragging, kite control work, and learn how to manage the board and try to put all the skills together to get yourself stood onto the board. On the third day you put it all together and make progress on standing and hopefully have a few longer rides…or so I’m told.
I was right on track and starting Day 3 mentally focused and ready to make some good progress. The winds were lighter, the swells were much more manageable and I was feeling comfortable. My first try I got up onto the board but wiped out after a few seconds. I just needed to get up and boarding, but still remember to keep my kite in the air afterwards.
Four or five attempts in, I got up, rode for a few seconds and then crashed. The bad news is while one foot came out of the binding, the other did not. I screamed for my instructor and he was there in no time to let me rest on the paddle board. In the end, we realized I could not keep flying so he took the kite onto his harness and flew it back to the beach with both of us seated on the paddleboard.
I presumed it was a sprain. It hurt, and I couldn’t put weight on it but it didn’t seem too bad. However, the owner of the kite school (Norm) suggested we head for a quick x-ray to be sure. Once Mr Snacks returned from his lesson (he will want me to tell you all that he was able to stand on his board a few times for runs of 15-20 seconds) we all loaded up into the van and Norm took us to the hospital in La Paz.
We “checked in” to the hospital (aka, I wrote my name on a hot pink post-it note) and were ushered to see an ER doctor who spoke fantastic English in about 3 minutes. I was in for an x-ray about 2 minutes after that. I was still sitting on the x-ray table when the doctor walked in and said “oh no” when he saw my x-rays. Fractured ankle. Need to have surgery.
The most overwhelming part was just how fast I went from thinking I’d be gimpy for a week, to them ready to check me in for surgery. I was scared, overwhelmed and not really thrilled to have unexpected surgery in Mexico.
That being said, the whole process was pretty amazing. They brought in the orthopedist, who looked at my x-rays and answered my questions. (His English was limited, but there was always a doctor around who could speak amazing English and be my translator.) I felt comfortable with him, and it was clear due to the nature of the injury that I could get it fixed elsewhere, but I had about 24 hours before I really needed to be in surgery so getting back to the US wasn’t a consideration. As well, everyone assured us that this was an extremely common procedure.
So, I agreed to move forward. It was now 4 or 5 in the afternoon, and they scheduled my surgery for 6am the next morning.
I didn’t understand (because it’s not how things work in the US) that I’d get checked in to the hospital and stay overnight. That also seemed overwhelming in the moment, but made things easier overall. In under 10 minutes from saying yes, I was brought to a room, had some blood taken and gotten hooked up to an IV. We were told I would be released 12-24 hours after the surgery—so either 1 night or two.
Shout out to Norm, the owner of the kite school we used. He is a former firefighter and paramedic and helped us with a lot of the “oh shit” questions we had, got us to a hospital we’d feel comfortable in, and even checked in on me after the surgery.
Norm drove Mr Snacks back to La Ventana (40 minutes away) so he could pack up our whole condo, drive the van back and sleep on the couch in my hospital room.
At 5:45 a team of people woke me up, wheeled me down the hall to the surgical suite where a man with perfect English asked me “what kind of music do you like?”. I was at a loss, so he suggested soft rock. I agreed and was pleasantly surprised that the music was not Kenny G. It was something more akin to one of those radio stations that advertise being workplace music for the “80’s, 90’s and today”. I’m not sure that it mattered. I passed out about half a song in, and woke up to hear maybe one song at the end. Surgery was 1 hour and 5 minutes. Exactly as predicted. I got released from the hospital late in the afternoon that same day.
So, the left foot now has sutures on both sides of the ankle. I’m adorned with a metal plate and 7 screws that will remain in permanently. Sutures come out 2 weeks after surgery, and I’m on crutches for 2 months.
We are in touch regularly with the doctors via WhatsApp, and it seems I’m recovering well. Mostly now it’s managing the swelling, discomfort of the sutures, and learning to get better with the crutches.