For those not familiar Karratha is North West mining town approximately 2000km north of Perth. Thought I would have a no-wsurf family holiday for a change, so Binny & I headed off to Exmouth 1280kms north of Perth about 11th of July (1400km from Mandurah odo reading). Mission = School Hols, catch up with grandkids, get away from cold, make some plans for the future, spend 4 days there, then 7 days in Karratha where my son Rory works and lives with his partner and 3 sons.
Exmouth was a bit of a portent of things to come, on the last day there we did the Yardie Creek trail walk , and I took a heavy fall, and it felt like I’d broken my leg, initially excrutiating pain, but after 10 mins, other than localised soreness to right shin I was able to keep walking. Next day we packed up and drove to Karratha, about 600kms further northeast.Spent 6 uneventful but relaxing days in Karratha, playing w grankids, playing my bass, learning a new set list for a new band, weather was nice and warm about mid 20’s everyday. Spent lots of time planning future windsurfing Holidays (How do you make God laugh? Tell him about your plans!) October was going to Be 2 weeks Corro;s/Sharkbay, November 1 week Shark bay, Dec 1 week Shark Bay, Jan/Feb 6 weeks Victoria/SA Lake George, Feb/March 1 week per month Albany. Right all locked in!!!!!!!!!!!! No thoughts that anything could possibly get in the way (DOH!!!!!)
The last day was planned to search some estuary creeks 35 km southwest of Karratha, the plan to catch mud crabs and hopefully a few mangrove jack. Unusually it had rained the night before and we thought the tracks might be too muddy, and were thinking of cancelling, but it had only rained 5 mm in Karratha, Marble Bar had gotten all the rain with 50mm. So we decided to go ahead, Fate is such a Funny Fickle Fing. Rory states I’ll bring some thin tubing and tape just in case we need to splint sum1 up “Yeh great thinking Rory”(Over-cautious the old Rorz, DOH!!!).
Anyway, we set off, the tracks are hard to find, but eventually we found the track into the creek, and mud flats. First stop we walk around, very slippery and muddy, WHOOP, over I go again, I was really struggling to keep my feet. The Grandkids all had a good larf. Lots of little crabs so WE decide to move on. But still I hadn’t registered how easily I was falling all the time.WE had a little creek bed to traverse, let tyres down, its pretty slippery, feeling the wheels losing traction and all 4wd devices kicking in, both cars made it across.WE find the spot, it looks magic, mud flats, mangroves, massive mud crab shells, this is it. So we start exploring. I’m leading out in front, the terrain is very slippery and muddy, my mind is just not computing how dangerous this is for me I’m just too obsessed with finding the fishing spot. Memory is a touch vague from here. I reach a place where its very boggy, and I have to climb under a mangrove tree to find an opening. I remember taking a slightly larger step, feeling something give under my foot, then falling and then both feeling and hearing “CRACK! CRACK!”, and I thought geez I hope that was some branches and not my leg? I look down at my leg and the shin bone is pushing skin out at right angles (Feel like vomiting as I write this), and my ankle is pointing in a direction it shouldn’t be. Then its momentary denial “NO WAY, This cannot have just happened” Then the pain slowly starts to kick in.......... The next 5 or so minutes I need to forget its not very pleasant, and too distressing to recount here...................... Rory eventually reaches me with 2 splints and tape and we tape up this leg that just looks all wrong. We are approx 100 metres from car, and initially I try and crawl on my back and bum, which is fine for 3 metres before I cant do it anymore. Real hero I am. So Rory, my 100kg Rugby League Forward of a son, who trains carrying 100kg rugby players over his shoulder, picks me up throws me over his shoulder, and carries me thru 100metres of slippery mud, and uphill. A true hero if there was one that day.I’m loaded into car, driven to Karratha Hospital.
Taken to emergency, they have no beds, and the pain is getting worse by the minute. Binny said when the nurse saw me turn grey, and nearly pass out they made a bed out of the one in the plastering room. Eventually taken for xrays, and the Dr sees me saying “Mr P, I’m afraid its not good news for you, you have a Spiral Compound Fracture in two places on your Tibia and a fracture of your fibula. This is quite a serious break, it requires surgery, that can only be done in Perth, and you need to be Flown down with the Royal Flying Doctors Service (RFDS), and probably not for 3 or 4 days. Once the surgery is done you’ll probably be off your feet for at least 8 to 12 weeks and possibly 6 to 12 months before be able to play sport again. My Response =“But But, I’ve got plans..” Dr = Smiles condescendingly. “The condition of the leg is extremely unstable and we need to put you under GA, and manipulate it into place. This will be extremely painful, and you will need high levels of pain relief after this” The nightmare deepens.At this point my head is spinning, and the nightmare just keeps becoming more of a horror story reality show. (I was able to keep perspective, I hadn’t been blown out of the sky in the Ukraine)As I write this I have felt quite nauseas recalling the events, and associated feelings, yuck.......
Next four days I’m at Karratha Regional Hospital, everytime I get booked on an RFDS flight, someone with more serious injury gets my spot....... Here I want to say that I hate flying, particularly in small planes, and am not looking fwd to RFDS. I eventually get on a RFDS flight and am expecting a direct flight to Perth at least!!!!!!!!! “Welcome aboard Mr P, we will be Flying to Port Headland to pick up another patient, then from port headland we fly to Meekatharra to change crews, then Meekatharra to Perth, approx 7 hrs” The nightmare reality just deepened a bit further. The flight to Port Headland was horrendous, think of a Bronking Bull, and thats how it was the whole way. As we approached Port Headland I said to Nurse “You’ve got to get me off this flight, I have a fear of flying and I cant do this for another 6 hrs”. The Nurse gave me this look that showed some of her distress, but her response was “Sorry Mr P, but we cannot do that for you, I have something that will make the trip very comfortable, are you allergic to Morphine?” “No “ my Reply. “Ok well this will be administered intravenously, and will have both a very powerful sedative and pain relief effect.” Then she says “are you ready?” and pushes it in, aha so this is what heroin junkies chase, you can see how this stuff would be so addictive for someone with an ordinary life that was always highly distressing, “ya just only one injection away from escape to Nirvana”. U C Drugz r the answer. Needless to say the next 6 hrs on the plane were easy, and we landed in perth where I was transferred by ambulance to Royal Perth Hospital.
There’s lots more that add to the nightmares of this story, eg. 2 of my neighbouring patients were experiencing severe psychiatric episodes whilst also recovering from orthopaedic surgery. So never felt safe for a minute. And last but not least waking early from anaesthetic, and feeling the full horror of the pain. Enough, for now, so If ya don’t see me around windsurfing or see me posting much u know why.
Bloody hell Joe, when you do a job, its a bloody goodn
That pain shock rolling up the leg until it hits the groin, then the throwing up. At least I was in water and could float to get assistance. 
