Bustin' Muh Booty

Lesson 4- Sometimes I overvalue courage (I am not invincible)

Lesson 5- It’s not as awkward as you would think to have someone else X-ray your butt

Lesson 6- Escaped prisoners make for a great distraction from recovery

Listening to the water rapids crash in twisting white ribbons 45 feet below, I cleared my mind. My friends and I had already decided, against the local warnings, that we would be fine jumping from Baker’s Bridge that warm summer evening. Although usually as serene and picturesque as a Colorado post-card, the water below the bridge gnarled because of the high water levels. However, after looking at it for a few minutes, we figured it’d be fine. Beyond a unanimous thirst for adrenaline (a general characteristic of a camp counselor), it was my friend’s birthday, which almost always calls for an eventful night-off from camp.

After a few of my friends had successfully jumped off the bridge and swam (more like been swept) to the rocks on the side, it was my turn. No time for hesitation. Too proud to show fear. As I calmly straddled over the dividers on the edge of the bridge, a local mountaineer, clearly thinking this video may launch him into Youtube stardom with the title “Girl Suffers Major Injury Jumping Bridge” filmed me from the side. I gave a hearty smile to the camera, and then I jumped. Cold. All I felt was cold. And then pressure, coming from different angles, pushing me away from the bridge and away from the rock walls, forcing me to pull a Michael Phelps back to my friends. Upon making it to the side, I limply crawled out of the freezing water (a product of mountain ice runoff). Almost immediately after my friends helped me stand, I knew something was wrong. Walking up the rocks, I had trouble even lifting my legs high enough to climb back over the bridge and onto the road. If I thought that was bad, it only got worse. At the pizza diner that night, I had to stand because sitting felt like twisting my bones beyond their limit. Driving back to camp to end our night-off, I had to lay in the backseat like a comfy baby. Somehow, laying down actually made me feel secure and observative rather than injured. I noticed the watch my friend was wearing as he drove. I noticed the stain on the ceiling of the car. I felt the soft air blowing out of the AC to my right, and I heard the warmth in my friends voices as we talked about everything from our life goals to Fetty Wap. That ride home was ironically one of my favorite moments of the summer. Still, it was during that time that I self-diagnosed that I had legitimately broken my butt. While it was funny for the next day or two to tell everyone how I had stupidly injured myself, it quickly became an inconvenience. I couldn’t sit, wasn’t comfortable walking, and had fairly continuous pain. Of course, this all had to take a backburner in the stove of my mind, given that I was still a counselor. I had more pressing issues like making sure my girls were punctual to meals and forcing them to do morning yoga and have matching outfits and scrunchies.

It wasn’t until the term ended and I was conveniently scheduled to go on family vacation that I was able to check out what was really going on with my south pole. Sadly, I had a full day of flights to get from Bayfield, CO to Lake Placid, NY, so I spent my hours propped up on a doughnut cushion in my seat. Undoubtedly, all the other passengers thought that I was too pretentious to let my butt touch public airplane seats and too arrogant to let my head be at the same seated height as everyone else. Little did they know… Once arriving in New York, I had a day that could have been in A Series of Unfortunate Events. Instead of wakeboarding on the boat with my brothers, I experienced an unusual social phenomenon: butt X-rays. After a bunch of bizarre yoga poses on the X-ray table, the doctors told me that my spine and tailbone were severely bruised and a bit compressed from the impact of the jump, but not broken. While it was a relief that it wasn’t fully broken, it meant it would still take a few weeks before I felt more normal ( it still bothers me now if I sit for too long).

*On a separate note, while I casually watched the news in the medical waiting room, I learned that two high-danger murders had broken out of the maximum-security prison and were currently wandering in the same mountains that my family was staying in! Honestly, this could (and likely will) be in a Lifetime movie soon. These two guys apparently got help escaping the high-security prison by seducing a woman and having her sneak tools in their meals. After fleeing, they took off by foot, likely in the hopes of making it to Canada. As luck would have it, my family was staying in a boat-access-only house in those same woods. Talk about limited rescue options for us in case of emergency; we couldn’t even get a car to our house! Consequently, I became slightly torn about whether I should be more concerned about my spine or my potential axe-murder death. My immobility meant that I spent most of my time alone on the couch: plenty of time for me to sit and await my two friends to come on in and keep me company before potentially dismembering me. A few times, I even heard the helicopters overhead searching in the night. The saga ended over a week later when one of the escapees, who donned metal teeth and had been convicted of torturing and killing his ex-boss (bro probably didn’t get enough time-off), was shot, and the other escapee, who had shot a police officer in the face and then ran over him with his car, was captured a few days later. He was found about 15 miles from the house we were in. Right after that saga ended, I flew back to Bayfield to continue working at camp, doughnut cushion, compressed tailbone and all.

Right after we jumped (the crutches were for another girl who was already injured; not for my south pole)

Baker's Bridge (I found this off the internet; the water looked nothing like this when we jumped: it was white water rapids instead... pretty cool)

Richard Matt and David Sweat: the escaped hooligans

Read the full NY Escapee story here *truly riveting*:

http://nymag.com/daily/intelligencer/2015/06/everything-we-know-about-the-ny-prison-break.html