Oh, Ouch, ouch, ouch! My leg…. Help! My ski. Please get it off!. Oh, Owwww. Damn. That really hurt. Oh, great. Thank you. That’s better. Can you get the other ski off? That really hurt. Where does it hurt? I’m not sure. My knee but I’m not sure where. It didn’t pop. And it’s not the bone. Can I touch it? Yes. Does it hurt there? No. There? No. There? Yes. Oh please don’t do that again. OK. I’m going to call ski patrol. Hello? Ski Patrol, this is Ric. I’m at the intersection between Dealer’s Choice and Lost Boy with an injured skier. Please send someone soon as you can.
What had started out as a glorious day, with sparkling sunshine glistening on the snowcapped Colorado Mountains allowing me to feel as if l were flying freely over wide fields of soft snow had suddenly turned into hostile territory. I was lying there feeling shattered and smashed in what had been unbroken snow.
Hours seemingly went by before ski patrol arrived. And then I was greeted with a “Hello, my name is Pascal, and I need to ask you a few questions.” What is your name? Heidi. Where are we right now? Vail, Colorado. Do you know what day it is? Yes, it’s the 23rd of December. Ok. I need to take your pulse now. Hmmmm….I’m having a hard time finding it. Well, I’m sure I’m not dead…yet. Ahhh…here it is. A little fast. I’m probably sort of anxious right now. Ok. I’m calling for a sled. Radio: This is Pascal. We need a sled at the junction of Dealer’s Choice and Lost Boy. We’re on our way. Over and out.
As I lay in the snow, watching the snowflakes land softly on my goggles, my mind began to wander. Where exactly was the rest of my family scattered? I knew they’d gone in search of the deepest powder on the back bowls of the mountain, and I certainly hoped they were safe, happy and uninjured. Then there was the delusional part of me that thought I could just stand up and all would be fine, that this was a bad dream, a simple sprain, something that would be fine tomorrow. Then there was Pascal, advising me regularly with updates about ski patrol getting closer, my pulse being fine, the fact that there was free transport to the ER, her own journey from France to Vail, and her cheerful shoring up of my general confidence, everyone’s competence and longevity on ski patrol, and their collective ability to get me down the mountain.
After my sled was lifted onto the chairlift and off again, and the snowmobile took me from the lift to the part of the mountain where I could be skied down to transport to the ER, I had a lot of time to think, and some time to worry about crashing into a tree. It would be untrue to say the ride was smooth. It wasn’t. There were a lot of bumps and I slid around on the sled and they needed to stop and adjust me as the rails were cutting into my arms at points along the descent. I started thinking my skiing days were behind me, which was depressing. Then I heard Pascal: “We’re half way down now. Great. Thanks Pascal. Bump, bump, bump. Swoosh, Swoosh, Swoosh. I’m really cold now. This is taking forever, or so it seems. Again, I hear Pascal’s voice: You’re doing great. Thanks. Maybe I can skip the ER. I think I’m going to be fine. Let’s see when we get to the bottom. We’re about three quarters of the way down now. It’s snowing really hard. The sun is going down. The light is flat. I always hate skiing in that light. I should know to always stop after about 2 o’clock. Why was I still skiing? I think to myself I should have had coffee this morning. I can’t believe I didn’t have coffee. If I’d had coffee, this definitely wouldn’t have happened.
Always, Pascal stayed by my side- on the chair, in the snowmobile and skiing beside me when I was on the sled. At some point along the way, I started to realize just how important it was to have her next to me, and how much I relied upon her to hear my concerns, stop the sled, adjust what didn’t feel right to me and listen even when what I said probably didn’t make much sense. I soon began to think about my work- both how my injury would impact me, and how my injury was somewhat analogous to feelings I knew my clients often had through their own journeys restructuring their families and their lives- the need for adjustment, assistance and reorientation. Pascal’s guidance and knowledge were essential to me. Although she wasn’t operating the chairlift, driving the snowmobile or skiing me down the mountain, her words, her knowledge and her expertise provided me with the assistance, orientation and confidence I needed to psychologically “stay in the game”, not go into shock, and be prepared for what would no doubt ultimately be news I wasn’t going to be happy to hear.
While healing I will take the lessons I learned from Pascal in guidance and clear communication, empathy, compassion and the assurance that although you may be broken, you are not alone and you will heal.
