So I managed to lead one and a half routes.
Wait, one and a half?
Wishful adventurer, bad climber, & writer of unedited poetry. A blog candidly exploring mental health, veganism, & the tiny things that make life worth living.
So I managed to lead one and a half routes.
Wait, one and a half?
I can barely believe that back in August I was told there was a 90% chance my BONE WOULD DIE and I’d likely have fusion surgery and it would be all dramatic and terrifying and I wouldn’t walk again and my whole life would change.
“And you’ve already lost all side mobility in that ankle. That’s gone.”
Laying in a hospital bed, high on morphine, I stared at a surgeon who was explaining to me in no uncertain terms that I had FUCKED UP.