Two months ago I shared about my ankle adventure that began with a simple misstep at Tent Rocks National Monument in New Mexico on April 14, 2025 and the “extended mountain rescue operation” that got me from the top of the slot canyon and onto a helicopter that took me to the University of New Mexico trauma center for the setting of my open, dislocated, severe, trimalleolar ankle fracture. https://deannewolfgram.com/2025/05/13/my-ankle-adventure-the-rescue/
An ever-present theme of my experience was the recognition of how many caring people there truly are in this world. While awaiting rescue for almost two hours, I witnessed person after person hiking past who offered me help or concern. It honestly filled me with genuine awe and appreciation for humanity amidst my distressing situation. Throughout my rescue and in the days and weeks afterward, I had recurring moments of that awe. My ongoing ankle ‘adventure’ was filled these moments and with a variety of experiences of humanity.
After my twenty+ minute LifeGuard helicopter flight delivered me to UNM Hospital, I was triaged in the trauma center. I was grateful to discover that only a small tip of bone was extruding from the skin at inner my ankle, and thankfully the blood flow, color and pulse had immediately returned after the rescue doctors had set my ankle closer to its anatomically correct placement in the ambulance prior to the helicopter flight.
My experiences of kind humanity continued. The Lifeguard helicopter team and I were greeted with a friendly welcoming at the trauma center. In triage, a kind nurse cared for me after the ER doctor’s assessment, and she chatted with me intermittently until her shift ended.
After a while, an x-ray technician took several images of my ankle while I laid on the ER gurney. The x-ray tech was very gentle and apologized when she had to place the plate under my ankle. She then sat down at her mobile x-ray unit station while the images uploaded. I looked over at her as she reviewed the x-rays and noticed her face suddenly change as she unconsciously winced and grimaced when she saw them. I commented lightly to her saying, “Based on your expression, it must not look great.” Her wincing face had cleared then, and she warmly remarked with, “All I can say is that you are really strong!!” I thanked her and received that confirmation fully. Looking at the x-rays myself days later, I realized why she had winced. My fibula bone on the outer side of my left leg was completely severed. Looking at that made my stomach churn for a moment when I actually saw it many days later.
The day of my injury I had arrived at the trauma center a few minutes after 6pm. That was five and a half hours after I had fractured my ankle. Once my x-rays were reviewed, I was taken to a procedure room around 8pm while being introduced to each member of the orthopedic team as they wheeled me there.
As with my initial ankle setting in the ambulance, I was again given ketamine, but this time a much more significant dose so that the team could do the complete setting of my ankle. I drifted into a very altered space with the ketamine flowing through my system. In my mind’s eye, I saw fractal and geometric patterns moving, stretching and flowing into new patterns over and over again. I was aware of being in almost another dimensional reality and actually wondered if I had transported into a multiverse. It was strangely intriguing to be so aware of witnessing this unusual inner experience. Then suddenly, the patterns faded, and I could see the silhouettes of the two doctors at my upper leg and my foot. At that moment, they pulled my ankle bones into place. It was one of the most excruciating pains I’ve ever felt. My body jolted on the gurney and heard myself hollering, “OOOWWW!!! God damn it, that hurt!!” I had the sense that the orthopedic team was a bit surprised by that.
Not long after, I was talking with the nurse who stayed in the room with me. He was surprised that I was as coherent as I was so soon. I remarked to him that my husband has commented that my body processes things really fast. The nurse emphatically said, “He’s right! You were coming out of the ketamine while they were setting your ankle!!”
Once I had recuperated enough (and had my first bought of post-ketamine nauseau), the nurse helped me into a wheelchair, propped my wrapped ankle up on some pillows on the footrest and apologized to me that they didn’t have any open rooms right then so he wheeled me into the lobby waiting area in front of the emergency room desk. Near midnight, I thought I was being taken to a room when a medical technician came to the ER for me. Nope. He came to take me for an EKG in preparation for my morning surgery. Just as he wheeled me in that room, I told him I was going to be sick, and he got me a bag just in time. After the pre-op EKG was completed, I again thought I was heading to a room. Again, no… I was wheeled back to the ER lobby area just in front of the ER reception.
There I spent the entire night in a wheelchair with my newly set ankle not even propped up completely for proper blood flow. It was NOT at all ideal, but it was another experience with humanity.
And that’s exactly what I told myself as I witnessed everything that transpired in that emergency room area that night, “I’m having another experience with humanity.” They were experiences different from what I’d had with fellow hikers on the peak or the rescue team, but it was another experience nonetheless. Watching a mentally challenged man pacing up and down the halls talking loudly and even yelling to himself (while the security guard calmly stood at the ER entrance) was a bit rattling and something I’d not been so near before while in such a vulnerable state. Another new experience that night was having a gentle, yet very disheveled, homeless woman in grungy pajamas wrapped in her torn dirty blanket sit directly next to me. Again, I open heartedly thought, “I’m having another experience of humanity.” I felt for her situation and appreciated the kindness she was receiving from the hospital staff. Yet, it was a keen challenge for me as her smell was truly pungent and unlike anything I’d ever smelled before. I was thankful that my nausea had passed. I inwardly checked myself, began breathing through my mouth and sent out a silent prayer.
The experiences of humanity continued as I sat in that wheelchair for 10-12 hours. I twice caught a nurse racing by and asked her for help to the bathroom. She apologized amidst her overwhelm, and said, “The system is broken.” Never before had I witnessed it so clearly and personally. This trauma hospital that accepts all patients was truly full. There wasn’t a room for me that night. There wasn’t a room for many who waited in that ER in varying states of need.
And still…. humanity was there. People sat patiently and quietly overall. I shared some meaningful moments and conversations with a variety of people. One of note was a mother who spoke to me so warmly and was waiting for word of her adult son Jose. He eventually joined us after being evaluated, and we three talked and sat waiting. I would meet Jose again several hours later as we both awaited surgery. We greeted each other with a smile then. It’s amazing how quickly human beings can share a bond. We truly are meant to be connected to one another.
I admit that I felt quite vulnerable and alone in stretches during that 12 hours of sitting in a wheelchair in the ER without the ability to get up on my own. It was so strange to be there after all those hours of careful rescue. I guess once my ankle was set my situation wasn’t critical. This was a level one trauma hospital, and those in traumatic need deserved priority. I still wondered if this many hours of sitting in a wheelchair would affect whether I could have surgery soon. I was hoping that the swelling wasn’t worsening since my ankle wasn’t elevated above my heart. Each time I had those worries I offered a prayer or sent myself healing Reiki energy…..
It was lonely….. My family were all somewhere else. My mom, brother and stepdad had driven back up north of Taos thinking I would be in a hospital room and cared for overnight. They were sleeping at home three hours away. My beloved hubby too was sleeping a bit amidst his worry over me from our home in Nevada. I was awake much of that night and all the next morning. I texted various family and friends to give them updates and to seek moral support. I was grateful, so very grateful, for the circle of people in my life. What a loving group of humanity!
Sometime after daybreak, the orthopedic trauma surgeon Dr. Wharton visited me where I was waiting in the ER lobby area. He explained that I would be having two surgeries. The first would be that morning. This surgery would stabilize my ankle. He would be installing an external fixator , metal pins or wires that are inserted into the bone through the skin and connected to an external frame, creating a “cage” appearance. Dr. Wharton prepared me for awakening from surgery to see this metal cage around the lower half of my left leg and ankle. I was simply thankful that my ankle would be surgically repaired; however, I was also mental fixated on whether I would be able to go on our big family Europe trip in June. That thought had come to me within minutes of breaking my ankle.
Dr. Wharton was not optimistic about the idea of me going on a trip to Europe six weeks after my ankle surgery. He emphasized that I had “really done a number on my ankle,” and that I would still be healing and in a lot of pain. His assessment certainly deflated my hopes in that moment, but I wasn’t about to give up. My mom, brother and I had begun dreaming of this ancestral pilgrimage trip together 3-5 years ago. Our family of ten had bought our cruise tickets for it one year ago. In my mind and heart, there had to be a way. As long as I took care of myself, there had to be a way. I chose to hold onto hope. My enormous store of determination had officially kicked into gear. I then set those thoughts aside and focused on mentally preparing for my first surgery.
I had another meaningful experience with humanity in the pre-op area. Several other patients were waiting in that same room. An elderly woman on the gurney next to me began speaking to me, and I was overcome with her resemblance to my beloved Grammy who had passed away at 100 in early 2018. This woman, Maria, had such similar hands and her voice sounded so much like my Grammy. My heart just melted. Maria was speaking of her late husband and sharing her worries. I reached out my hands and held hers. This is Humanity… This is what it is all about. We truly are here for each other.
The volunteer who was sitting with Maria smiled warmly at the sight of us holding hands. Then, the door opened and a familiar face smiled at me as my late night ER buddy Jose was wheeled in on the other side of me. We exchanged hellos and updates then sat quietly as we all awaited our surgeries. I paused with an awareness, one that felt truly sacred. I had Jose (Joseph) and Maria (Mary) on either side of me as I awaited this surgery that would repair my left ankle, the one I had first sprained while on a pilgrimage to Sacred France in 2012 walking in the footsteps of Mary Magdalene. I felt the significance of that and knew to be open to all that might unfold as my healing journey continued…
I was enormously grateful to move out of that ER lobby, have those special encounters and eventually head into surgery for my ankle’s repair. I was ready. My own Reiki energy was flowing, and I gratefully had an entire inner circle of healer friends, longtime besties and family who were sending me healing energy and prayers. I was in good hands and hearts…. surgically and energetically. My pre-op nurse even reassured me that I had an excellent surgeon. “I would let him operate on me!!” she emphasized smiling. That first surgery went very well, and I was welcomed awake by caring, friendly nurses.
I must have been engaging and grateful as the anesthesia wore off because they warmly and emphatically commented that I was a wonderful woman. Awwww…. They were also delighted when I asked to take a photo with them.
Once I had awakened from surgery, I was able to have one visitor at a time. My brother, stepdad and mom each took their turn visiting, hugging me and giving their love. It felt incredible to see them!! My stepdad Mike marveled at my strength and the amazing adventure we had all shared yesterday. His words hit home for me. He said, “You’re taking your weakest area and making it your strongest!” That really felt true.
Later that day, one of my besties, my dear friend of 25 years Cinzia, who I’d introduced to New Mexico in 2023 and who had since moved to Santa Fe, came by to see me. She drove the 45 minutes to visit me at the hospital in Albuquerque and beamed smiles and love my way. What a gift to have these precious people encircling me.
After visiting hours concluded, I continued to be encircled by my closest friends via text messages. The support was buoying. My hospital stay continued in the surgical recovery area. Once again, rooms at the hospital were limited so the post-surgery nursing staff took care of me through the night. I was heartbreakingly aware of a young woman in the area next to me with her dad by her side giving her reassurance and strength. She had obviously been in a severe car accident and had multiple broken bones throughout her body. Hearing them through the curtain between us deeply touched my heart. Humanity…..Life…. it’s so achingly precious. That awareness filled me and allowed me to put so much of what I was going through in perspective.
Later the next morning my beloved man arrived. He had flown in to be by my side. That’s how we get through this life together, side by side. That’s exactly where we were six weeks earlier at a Las Vegas hospital as his incredible mom suddenly made her transition. Life… it’s so precious…. Now he was by my side, as we began this next chapter together.
Brian kept me company throughout the day. He had now stepped into the role of medical contact person that I had asked my brother to fill in his absence. Love these men.
That day after my first surgery I had other special visitors and gifts. My cherished friend Molly who lives in Albuquerque and has been my dear friend for a quarter century came by to visit. She and her husband Charles were hosting Brian at their home as they have so often done for us over the years. Her card gave me a chuckle. Molly commented, “This seemed like you!” It truly did. The smiles and hugs we exchanged were heart affirming. I’m one lucky lady.
That afternoon my other New Mexico bestie came by for another visit and enjoyed seeing Brian too. After visits by the nurses and a check-in from a member of the orthopedic team, Cinzia gave me some hands-on Reiki. That was gentle and soothing to receive.
I was also surprised and joyfully delighted by a bright flowering gift from my dear friend Tallah. Her message really spoke the truth for me!
On Thursday afternoon April 17, 2025, I had my second and final successful ankle surgery at UNM Hospital. Dr. Wharton and his team installed all the internal hardware to support the healing of my three fractured bones. I did indeed feel like the Bionic Woman after I saw the x-rays days later. My husband managed through some hours of worry as my procedure started late and the orthopedic team did not update him promptly when I was out of surgery. He was grateful to join me when they wheeled me to my hospital room. We were both thankful to learn that the surgery went really well.
Unfortunately, I did have difficulty with my urinary tract cooperating while bed ridden so a foley catheter had to be installed. This actually proved beneficial when we made the eight hour drive home on Easter Sunday three days later.
I was fortunate to be offered some ‘spa time’ by my kind nurses who bathed me in bed and washed my hair the day after my second surgery. Wow did that make me feel more human again! A visit from my orthopedic team was also uplifting.
My hubby and I also had a visit from a mobile notary who brought the closing documents for our daughter’s townhouse sale. We had co-signed on that loan years back. That house was being sold and the newlyweds were moving into a brand new home of their own. Exciting! How wild that we were signing the paperwork in New Mexico from my hospital bed!
Signing those special documents was a highlight but not the most special highlight of that day. That moment was when three of my Hill cousins came to visit me bearing gifts, smiles, hugs and love. All of them live in Albuquerque and all were right there for me when I needed some loving family support. Wow! If I had to get injured and spend time in the hospital at least it was transpiring in the city of my birth where I have other precious family there to encircle me. I was so very grateful!
The next full day in the hospital had me receiving more wonderful conscientious care from the nurses, and Brian had been enjoying some quality time with our local friends when he wasn’t at the hospital. In keeping with my “Mommarazzi” nickname, I captured photos of all the special people and visitors including my dad’s eldest brother my Uncle Larry. He was in warm upbeat spirits as he was readying to take their new puppy to dog obedience training after his wonderful visit with me. All of that did my heart good and had my spirits up too.
The next morning on Easter Sunday I was more than ready to go home. I had a visit by a sharp, informative and get-things-done orthopedic nurse who arranged for my hospital discharge and managed to take photos of my x-rays on the computer monitor so that I had those to show my local Henderson, NV orthopedic doctor when I had one. She explained when I should schedule an appointment, And…. I asked her the same question I had been asking nearly every nurse, doctor and medical technician I’d met. “Do you think that I’ll be able to go on my family’s trip to Europe in June?” She emphatically and confidently said, “Yes. You will!” She nodded her head and said that yes it would take some work and mobility devices, but I would absolutely be able to go. I was elated at her solid confidence. It reaffirmed mine!
It took a while to get my discharge paperwork and medicines, but eventually the moment arrived. In the meantime, I managed to see so many of my wonderful hospital caregivers and took pictures with them. They all thoroughly enjoyed that and my exuberance.
And finally…. it was time for my hubby and I to get out of the hospital and make our eight hour drive home. Thankfully, that all went well too!
There’s no place like home. The moment we arrived my loving feline goddess Isis was right there at my side. She would be my devoted healing partner and moral support like this for many weeks…. My hubby would be my devoted caregiver. What a gift! I’m so very grateful, so very lucky.
We are certainly bonding in new ways through this. 
DeAnne Wolfgram 