Two days ago, I was climbing (bouldering) in NC. I was on a 15' route that I'd done once or twice before. It is challenging for me, but definitely doable. I was pulling the last move to get the top-out. Then, I fell. I've gotten good about spotting my landing pretty quickly. I knew in a fraction of a second after coming off that I would miss my pad, hit ass or back first on my right side, and it would probably hurt. My size-up was spot on.
I hit so hard that I bounced. Pretty much immediately, three things happened: intense pain, alarm about the extent of my injuries, and further alarm about how far away from help I was. I'll elaborate. I can't remember anything that's hurt this bad in my life. All I could do was writhe and groan. I had no control over anything else at first. I was worried about how fucked up I was because of the pain, and because I smelled shit. I pooped my pants. Fuck! How bad did I mess myself up that I lost control of my bowels? This might be really bad Eric. You're alone, all jacked up, and over a mile away from the road. Shit! (i got puns for days) I managed to get myself together and make an assesment of what worked and what didn't. Luckily... and i mean winning lottery ticket luckily... everything worked.
I hurt like hell, but my feet, legs, and arms all still worked. For some reason, at this point, I was desperate to get my climbing shoes and underwear off and try to wipe off the poo. I was able to get this done. I stripped down naked from the waist down, went to work, and wondered how appalled an unfortunate climber walking up might be at the sight and smell of my situation. I'm still moaning, rolling around, and unwilling to try and stand at this point. I used the pullover I was wearing to try and wipe up the best I could. It was ugly. Sans underwear and hoody, I got my pants and normal shoes back on. They were shitty, but nowhere near as bad as the layer that was under them. Gosh what a mess. Okay, can you stand? A painful, but slow yes. How about walk? Again, yes. Good, 911 not needed for now.
I gathered all my stuff. All of it, because leave no trace and stuff... My stuff consisted of a small backpack with some water, shoes, a chalk bag, and shitty clothes, and my crashpad, a giant rectangle pad that's supposed to cushion falls when correctly placed and carried like a backpack. I found a stick to help take weight off my right side and slowly began the walk of shame back to my car. Temps were probably high 40s, low 50s, but I was sweating profusely and feeling dizzy. Was I bleeding on the inside? Hoped not. It was maybe a 1.5mi hike to the car, but it felt more like a 7. It definitely took as long. I met a group of three climbers while hobbling out. They offered to help. Thanks. In hindsight, maybe I should've said yes, but I was really embarrassed, focused on moving, and didn't want to put anyone in charge of carrying things that were covered in poop. Instead I made light of my situation like a fool.
At the parking lot, there's a shitter, but guess what? No TP. Why the hell would there be? I had a work shirt in the car that I used to try and clean up a little more. A little better, but I still stunk. I managed to get in the car. Damn it sucks to hurt your ass because we use it to sit all of the freaking time. Oh. By the way my home is about a 2 hour drive from where I was. The ride home was horrible. I kept wondering if I was worse off than I thought because I was suddenly tired as hell and a little dizzy on and off.
I made it back to the house, did a bad job showering, and went to the urgent care with my concerned wife. The urgent care passed the buck to the ER because they felt something inside was likely screwed up based on the circumstances.
Some X-rays and a burly doctor's finger up my butt later (he had to check for "rectal tension"), I was given the all clear.
Here I sit on my left side considering everything.
Was it dumb to go bouldering alone? I don't think so, but I'll definitely change my approach a little or go with a group from now on.
How fucking lucky are you man? How many more times of getting out of something unscathed do I have before I mess myself up? Probably not many. Be careful. People love and depend on you. It's not cool to be bruised, battered, and a burden to my family.
I also think it's interesting that I can't help but find humor in this despite what it could have been.
That is all.
