Our Democracy Is Fractured, But So Is My Leg

Hi, it's me, Astrid!

It's embarrassing to admit, but although I try to exude the qualities of an intrepid and graceful outdoorswoman, I'm actually a bit of a klutz. Historically, my clumsiness has been pretty low-consequence, and I've been able to enjoy lots of amazing forays into the wilderness with little to no bodily harm.






Sure, there have been minor scrapes and scratches here and there, along with the occasional bout of food-born illness, sun stroke, dehydration, a hint of frostbite, perhaps, but nothing that ever required anything resembling a go-fund-me page or, heaven forbid, a stay in the hospital.

A week ago though, things sort of took a tumble for the worse.


While on a patrol, I was climbing down an embankment when my right foot slipped into a shallow hole. The hole wasn't that big, the slope wasn't that steep, and nothing about the situation had seemed particularly scary.  I was minding my own business and enjoying the crisp mountain air and clear blue skies. There were mule deer and marmots and a herd of bighorn sheep and even a clark's nutcracker. Unfortunately, my backpack, the rest of my body, and their combined weights continued to carry my momentum in the opposite direction of my newly stuck-in-place foot. A loud crunch preceded a lengthy tumble, punctuated by the phrase, "I JUST BROKE MY F*#KING LEG!" screamed at a volume sufficient to echo multiple times across the surrounding mountainsides.

 

Two adrenaline-packed helicopter rides and three days in the hospital later, I emerged with a right lower leg that had been retrofit with two titanium plates and a handful of screws and pins, a re-located ankle bone, and strict orders to avoid bearing any weight or driving for the following 6-8 weeks. I'm currently convalescing in my little cabin in Glacier National Park, dependent on my lovely friends and neighbors for help with things like cooking and washing dishes.

 
It's been said that America's park rangers, who dedicate their hearts, souls and bodies to the protection and caretaking of the national parks and their visitors, are primarily paid in "sunrises and sunsets," which is to say that we're paid pretty poorly. Our country saves a lot of money by depending on stubborn, luddite, environmentalist dreamers who just can't turn down their dream jobs in order to provide themselves with a more stable financial situation. It's not just hiking. It's meaningful and important work. If not us, then who? Who would protect our most beloved places, our nation's last best idea, the promise of land set aside for the benefit and enjoyment of the people, not to mention the mandate to protect all of the threatened species, pristine lakes, alpine meadows, and the sacred places we love and hold dear?

You're welcome, America.


I'm currently in a state of limbo, waiting to see if and when worker's comp approves my injury claim. If and when they do, it's unclear what they will be willing to pay for.  I'm pretty sure that the big stuff, like the emergency helicopter extraction and the surgery will eventually be covered (god willing!). In the meantime, there are a few smaller items that would be VERY helpful for finding the mobility to do ordinary things like cooking dinner and getting up to go to the bathroom without risking a fall. Living alone post surgery would be a lot easier with things like a tiny indoor knee scooter or a FreedomLeg (if you've never heard of those, check them out, they're very innovative, safe, and helpful!)  There are also a few other little things, like transportation to a hospital that's three and a half hours away, a freezable cold compress, a leg elevation pillow, and supplements to help mend broken bones, all of which are currently outside of my emergency budget but would be super helpful for my recovery. My goal with this Go Fund Me page is to make my life safer, easier, and less painful by acquiring those items sooner rather than later. As you might expect, one government agency (NPS) interfacing with another government agency (Department of Labor) about something that's as complicated as healthcare can move at the pace of a glacier. Meanwhile, my leg is broken now.

 

If there is anything that you're in a position to spare to help me get back on my healing feet, please consider lending a hand. When I'm all mended up, any medical equipment (knee scooter, crutches, that Freedom Leg thingy) that's no longer needed will be donated to the Blackfeet Indian Reservation, the closest community to my current home in the park and the community most in need of support.

 

Thank you so much for taking the time to read this far and thank you for any help you're able to share. Thank you thank you thank you.

Love,

 

Astrid


P.S. If you're wondering what sort of sunrises and sunsets I've accepted in lieu of a living wage and a 401k, please enjoy the pictures below. They're a handful of magic beans, I know, but the views sure are pretty.