My Recent Injury

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Let's just skip the icky stuff and look this picture of a kitten.

On Tuesday, January 27th, Invicta Fighting Championships announced that I was going to have a spot on their February card. I was elated: I would finally get my real start with Invicta. I was slated to fight Christine Stanley, a formidable striker who finished her last fight with a spinning-kick knockout that has practically gone viral. My team and I were very pleased. 

Of course, I got right to work and made plans to meet with Coach Dylan "The Bull" Atkinson later that day to check in and have our first game-planning session of the fight camp.

Things were going well until just 10 minutes before we were done with practice. We were working standup when I stumbled and fell while moving in for the clinch. Though it didn't feel like much, upon looking at the foot that had collapsed under me we were shocked to see BONE sticking out of my big toe. Dylan drove me straight to the hospital through rush hour traffic.

We checked in, and sat in the waiting room for... hours.

Yup. that's the face I made.

At check-in a nurse asked what level of pain I was experiencing, on a scale of 1 to 10. I told her it was at a 1 or a 2-- because that's the miracle of how our bodies handle shock-- and Dylan informed me that I should have said "10". Hours later the first lesson of this injury became clear: listen to Coach!

When I finally got to sit down with some nurses and they pulled off the makeshift bandage, one remarked, "Uh, we need to change this to the highest level of urgency..." Well, I had to agree with that.

The surgeon who put my toe back together later told me that a friend of his working in the ER had called and, before even saying hi, begged a favor of him (that he come sew me up on a Tuesday night). The friend even texted him a photo to convince him that it was dire enough to require his help!

An X ray revealed that what looked like I had broken my toe was actually a dislocation. Now, fighters will tell you that dislocations are common, and they are. I've had a few other toes dislocate, too. The difference this time was that when the bone slipped it severed ligaments and other connective tissue-- as well as skin-- leaving the top part of my toe half detached, instead of just bent.

This is the "censored" version.

Perhaps you've seen the photos? The curious and strong of stomach can see all the juicy bits here and here.

You can also read about my, apparently, noteworthy toe-decorating habits here. Warning: this also contains a picture of the toe that is "Like [Jon Jones's] but with 100% more glitter."

So they stitched me up, stuck a few pins in me, and (after a night in the hospital) sent me home. Now I'm a tripod, lugging my booted frankenfoot around on shiny crutches borrowed from my friend the Honey Badger.

I may have had to withdraw from the Invicta FC 11 card, but I WILL BE BACK!