Not "Goodbye," but "See you later"

As many of my friends and family know, I had to end my study abroad much differently than most others. For anyone studying abroad in the future, good luck.

Portland, England Climbing

Last time people read, I had many plans for my spring break with the climbing club, traveling abroad, family coming to visit, anticipation of exams, and summer backpacking travels. This all changed abruptly on April 2 just halfway through my climbing trip in Portland, England with the Climbing and Mountaineering Club at NTU. I have been procrastinating writing this because writing it means facing the truth; my truth isn't pretty. We had three mixed-weather days climbing on the cliffs in Dorset. On the fourth day, the rain finally kicked in heavily so the club and I headed up north an hour to the city of Poole to do some indoor bouldering. For many of those who don't know what that is, I have supplied you all with a lengthy definition straight from the lovely urbandictionary.com:

"Sport originally derived from sport climbing, consisting in short sequences of "moves" (movements of the arms allowing the body to be moved up a climbing wall, a rock boulder or even a house wall) that requires huge levels of strength on the forearms & fingers, and different special techniques. This sequence is normally called a "problem". The climber is not roped, and the only protection allowed is a thick foam mattress called "crashpad". Bouldering problems rarely go higher than 3 or 4 meters above the ground. "Solving" a problems often forces to make unlikely movements, like "pinching" a hold with your heels, or literally jumping from hold to hold (doing a "dyno"). Style is important, but what really counts is to reach the last hold (the "top")."

I had never bouldered indoors before but have fallen in love with climbing in the last year and was eager to work on some different moves and strengthen a bit more for the rest of the week's outdoor climbing. We spent the entire day at this center and after an exhausting but extremely fun afternoon we were given the final five minute warning before we headed out. There had been one route that I had been challenged on and went back up one last time to try it again before we left; just like me to leave no stone unturned, I got back up on the wall to the same position that I had gotten to time and time again, falling numerous times before reaching for a hold just inches away. I finally decided to brace my fears, knowing there was a safety pad below, pushed myself those extra few inches, and missed the hand-hold. I fell to the crash pad two meters below my feet and landed on my left ankle, bearing all my weight into it I heard it snap and watched my body crumble. A scream emerged that I didn't recognize as my own and I had instantly known that I had broken my ankle. I'll save you the rest of the gory details as most readers don't want to have to relive that day with me but after a grueling half-an-hour of laying in agony on the mat, the ambulance finally showed up and drove me the three-hundred meters up the street to the hospital. My two best climbing friends came with me and helped me through it the entire time while, ironically, the center tried calling my emergency contact which I had put down as my own cell phone number knowing I didn't have a true emergency reliance to call while in England.

The paramedics let me gulp up the laughing gas until I had gone through their stash before I got processed and the results of the x-rays came to...I had broken my ankle in three places. And just like that, all of my plans changed.

I stayed in that hospital in Poole for twelve days. My climbing friends had to go back to their homes that weekend, I watched Easter come and go as I sat there waiting for surgery, I watched nurses come and go with their shifts and patients come and go. I watched my flight time pass as I was supposed to leave for my trip to Berlin then a few days later my train time leave to Prague. I watched my flights and buses leave for my adventures and my travel plans fly out the window. And though I met some incredibly blessed people who saved me so many times, I also faced the biggest struggles of loneliness and lack of communication in a poorly, free health care system in a foreign country where they hand me unknown drugs and sometimes barely spoke English or have enough staff to aid the sick or pained.

Day 7 of being in the hospital the insurance flew my mother out from California to help me. I hadn't been able to talk to any doctors, nurses didn't know what to do with me, and there was no wifi to get in contact with my family or insurance to finally get my surgery. And finally, day 9 of being in the hospital, prepped for surgery four times, I finally went under. Then the real healing began; inside and out.

For those of you who didn't know, I lived at the top of the house in England, getting up 38 stairs in an old Victorian 'palace.' Even though my mom was there for a few days, things were very challenging. When my mom left a few days later, life got that much harder. And day by day, I saw myself leaving the house to see sunlight once a week, and leaving my bed once a day to eat and clean. I wanted to be the strong person to push through and finish school but the less I got up, the harder it became to try and care about school if traveling and everything had changed so drastically.

I eventually bucked up and decided it would be best for my healing if I took the time at my home to heal and get the doctors and help I needed.

Family house BBQ after the accident

I miss them every day, thinking about all of the crazy, spontaneous, slap-stick, sarcastic hilarious-fun times we all had. I miss my house mates to no end, my crazy American friends, my new English and European friends, and my supportive climbing friends. They all did what they could for me but I am not the type to rely on others or burden anyone unless I cannot find a way to do something myself. In so many ways this would hurt me and for that, I am better at home healing.

Like I said, my experience was that like no others. I had adventure, friendship, and life-experience I wouldn't take back for anything. I just wish it didn't have to end so soon.

Nottingham Arboretum in the spring

There is always an end, I suppose. So to this adventure, I had to give my hugs to all those I have met and missed but its not a goodbye, its a see you later.













To anyone wishing to know more about my experiences in England, at Nottingham Trent University, HTH WorldWide Insurance, or anything else, please feel free to reach out to me by posting a comment and I will do my best to get back to you soon!

Thanks for reading!
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