Friday was a typical day for me. I went into the church office in the morning–studied, met with a staff person, had a counseling session, answered emails and phone calls, and researched curriculum for a church campaign in the spring. I came home early to get ready for taekwondo graduations that evening.
I have been taking taekwondo off and on for seven years. I reached the level of second degree black belt but have never been sure that my skill matched my rank. My wife, Liz, and four boys also take taekwondo. Their commitment and skill level surpasses my own. My wife and three older boys have all earned state champ rankings in forms and/or sparring. I am happy to simply pass a mid-term test (aka graduation), held every two months.
The adult graduation was scheduled for 7:30pm. But since we had a church business meeting at 7:30pm, we decided to graduate with my older boys’ class at 5:30pm. My wife and I and two others were the only adults in the class. Being at a graduation with a lot of younger kids was a little awkward for me but since I knew most of the kids (and they knew me) it wasn’t too bad. I was somewhat thankful that there were not a lot of parents there since we did sort of stick out in the graduation.
Forms were the first part of the graduation. I sat in the back, squatted like a catcher waiting for my turn. We had done a quick warm-up before the graduation but squatting in the back helped me to continue to stretch and get ready for my form. My older boys went before my wife and me. They do their form very well and my oldest son especially has very smooth and high kicks. Several of the other kids also had very high kicks. As an adult, I knew I couldn’t kick that high but I certainly wanted to do my best in front of all the “young guns.”
My wife and I and the other adults went last. I felt good doing my form. I had corrected a lot of things over the past few weeks and it seemed like my form was finally coming together. I kicked as high as I could and can remember flexing my foot more during the round kicks since I noticed Nate and the other kids doing this during their forms. I ended my form right where I started—a good sign that I had done the form well.
Next was the weapons demonstration. Again the adults went last. I was a little shaky with the weapons form but got through it okay. There are a lot of rear stances in the weapons form which probably put some stress on my feet.
Finally we got ready for testing sparring. I put on all my equipment and prepared to spar. I was feeling good and had some energy. When it was my turn, I was paired with another young adult. We faced each other and bowed. When sparring began, I remember doing a kick or two and then waiting for my partner to do a few kicks. While he was kicking, I switched feet, putting my left foot in back. I was preparing to do a front jump kick, pushing off with my left foot and kicking in the air with my right. As I went to push off, I felt something hit my back heel. I thought someone sparring next to me had fallen, landing right on the back of my leg. However, when I turned around no one was there. For a split second, I remember thinking, “That’s weird. What just happened?” I can even remember making eye contact with my taekwondo instructor who was at the judges’ table right behind me. He seemed to have the same confused look I did, wondering why I had stopped to look around behind me.
Then, the pain hit. I crumpled to the mat and began holding my leg. I knew what had happened. My Achilles tendon had popped.
The diagnosis was clear in my mind because I could remember talking with two guys in our church who had popped their Achilles. Both of them had relayed to me the same information. “It felt like someone hit me in the back of the leg with a bat but when I turned around, no one was there.” Their words stuck in my mind because I can remember thinking, “Man, that must have hurt!” I certainly didn’t ever want something like that to happen to me. In that instant, lying on the mat in pain, I realized that it did.
The initial pain felt intense. My own mind, knowing what had happened, probably didn’t help the situation.
People rushed to me, not quite sure what was going on. After all, I had fallen to the mat in pain without seemingly doing anything. My wife and instructor helped me remove my gear while a pack of ice was soon applied to the back of my leg. The ice helped and the pain seemed to dissipate fairly quickly. My mind, however, kept reminding me of what happened. The thought of a snapped Achilles was enough to make me wince in pain.
I was dragged to the side of the mat where I was able to say a few words to my sons who were all visibly concerned for me. I told Jonah, my third son, to do well at his graduation. He was graduating in the class right after us, going for his black belt. It was a big night for him. I hated missing it but I knew I needed to go to the hospital. A friend from church, Dan, arrived at the taekwondo school at almost the exact time I fell. He had come to see Jonah graduate. Instead he was recruited to take me to the hospital. Two of the men in the school carried me to Dan’s car. And soon, Dan and I were headed to St. Peter’s Hospital.
Another hospital was much closer but, knowing of too many nightmare stories with that hospital, I decided to go to St. Peter’s. At the time, the pain was not too bad which made the longer trip seem bearable.
The emergency room at St. Peter’s was packed as usual. Dan got me a wheelchair and wheeled me in. Most of the occupants were parents with young children. My taekwondo uniform made a number of people take a second look at me as I was wheeled in.
The wait was not as long as I thought it would be. Within an hour, I was called in. A triage nurse took down the initial information of my injury and checked my vital signs. When he asked to rate my pain level on a scale of 1-10, I said a “1.” I was ginger with my foot and didn’t want anyone to touch it, but amazingly there was really no pain.
I was wheeled into an examination room. Again, my uniform brought looks, a few smiles, and lots of comments. When the emergency room doctor finally saw me, he did the Thompson test on me. I had no idea what the Thompson test was until then. Basically I lay on my stomach with my feet hanging off the end of the bed. The doctor squeezed both of my calves. Though I couldn’t see what was happening, Dan later told me. Squeezing my right calf caused my heel and foot to flex. Squeezing my left calf caused nothing. The Achilles tendon was gone and my left foot no longer had a connection to my calf muscle. The test was fairly conclusive. I was just thankful that it wasn’t painful.
About an hour later, an orthopedic resident came in to see me. He performed the same test and concluded that my Achilles was completely ruptured. He contacted an orthopedic doctor that he worked with, Dr. L., and said that I could be seen on Monday and probably have surgery on Tuesday. Though an Achilles rupture could be treated non-surgically, surgery was advised since the chance of re-rupture is less likely. I agreed.
The resident made a splint for my leg and wrapped it in cotton cloth and several ace bandages. Within a short time he was gone. X-rays were taken to confirm the rupture and I was given a CD to take to the orthopedic doctor. After about four hours in the emergency room I was discharged.
I got back home a little after 11:00pm. Liz and the boys, as well as two of our friends, were waiting to see me. I used crutches to get into the house and onto the couch. Jonah relayed to me all the information about his graduation and showed me his new black belt. I watched the video and congratulated him. About an hour later, I was asleep on the couch.
