A Day That Changed Everything
My battle and the lessons learned along the way as I recovered
On March 16, 2023, Pune was lashed by a strong storm with cyclonic rains, known as Nisarg. The anxiety was palpable for the inaugural Thergaon Premier League match the next day. Local corporators invited all the societies in Thergaon, Pune to participate, and I was thrilled to be on our team. We were especially excited because the match would be at the Vengsarkar Cricket Academy, a famous ground known for producing future cricket stars.
On March 17, the morning was beautiful. The sky was clear, and the crisp, cold air after the storm made it perfect for cricket. After my usual morning run, I took my daughter to the bus stop. She hugged me and kissed me goodbye before hopping onto the bus. I notified my boss about the event and was ready to play. Our team gathered and decided to walk to the ground, just 300 meters away, but one of my friends thoughtfully brought his car, which would soon prove essential.
Chapter 1:
Cricket match day
At the field, the groundskeepers were busy draining water and removing moisture from the grass to make it playable. We moved to a corner to warm up and started joking around and taking pictures before the match. The atmosphere was light, and our spirits were high.
While warming up near the boundary line, I was tossed a catch and jumped to grab the ball with one hand. It was a spectacular catch, but it was only half the story. I had no idea that a life-changing event was just moments away. As I landed on the wet grass, my left foot slipped, sending my leg flying up and forcing all my weight onto my right leg. The right leg twisted, and I heard a sickening “clikkk.”
Suddenly, pain shot through my whole body as I saw my foot hanging loosely from my ankle. My mind raced with a million thoughts while my teammates rushed over. I was in shock, unable to process the sight before me. All I could think was, “Dude, you just broke the leg you used to run marathons with.”
In a panic, my friends called the medics, who advised taking me to the hospital right away. Thankfully, my friend’s car was ready. They carefully loaded me into the back seat and drove me to the hospital.
I looked down at my broken ankle in the back seat, I felt the excruciating pain shooting through my leg, I realized:
“If there’s no pain in your leg and you can walk and run, remember, the moment something goes wrong, you become dependent on the people around you. And if you don’t have people, that’s the ultimate pain.”
Chapter 2:
Unlikely Encounters at the Hospital
It was the first time I’d been brought to a hospital this way — injured, in pain, yet unknowingly pumped up on adrenaline. My friends Pradeep and Ashutosh (remember the one who brought his car) drove me to Sterling Hospital in Nigdi, Pune. They left the match and stayed with me until the doctor arrived. He looked at my condition, smiled, and asked, “How did you end up like this?”
The X-ray technician was shocked too — not just by the state of my leg, but also because I was smiling through it all. He asked if I was in pain since the injury was serious. I then spoke to the doctor and learned that a simple surgery would have me back on my feet in 8–10 months. Seriously! My curiosity was about to burst into a thousand questions when suddenly, I heard my name being called.
“Are you Prashant?” asked two policemen in Marathi.
“Yes, I am. Ani mi Marathi shikat ahey (I’m learning Marathi; I can’t speak it fluently),” I replied.
They smiled and glanced at my condition as I sat temporarily in the emergency ward. “Who did this?” they asked, confidently assuming that no ordinary person could have ended up in this state alone. As police officers, they couldn’t believe it was as straightforward as it seemed.
“Are you sure nobody hit you? You can tell us their names or what they looked like.” I couldn’t help but laugh, then looked them in the eye and asked politely, “Do I look like someone who got roughed up by a gang?” They smiled and asked me to describe everything for their report.
Fast forward, and after they’d written everything down, they asked for my signature. I reminded them that they forgot to include the part about me catching the ball — otherwise, I wouldn’t sign. They laughed, confused but amused, and included it before I signed with no hesitation. I thanked them for coming and wished them a safe drive back, my ironic well-wishing fueled by the adrenaline.
Chapter 3: The surgery
After the CT scan and a series of X-rays, I was advised to rest and allow the swelling in my leg to subside. During this time, my wife was a pillar of strength. She juggled making healthy meals, caring for our kids, and ensuring that our son’s board exams went uninterrupted. When my daughter visited me, her initial shock quickly turned to fascination. She saw my bandaged leg not as a sign of injury but as a canvas. The bandage was adorned with drawings and heartfelt messages from friends and family — a small gallery of support wrapped around my leg.
In the meantime, I discovered a channel that became my solace — Jothi TV, which broadcasted endless rituals and prayers to Lord Balaji and other deities. It was engrossing to watch the daily abhishekams, a spiritual balm that soothed more than just physical pain.
There came a moment, though, when my emotions overwhelmed me, and I broke down. My wife noticed my distress; she held me with such positivity and strength that I resolved then and there to prevent such despair from surfacing again. Her support reminded me of the power of perspective and the strength we can draw from our loved ones in times of trial.
Finally, the day arrived for my surgery. As I entered the Operating Theater (OT), the sight of the setup, the surgical bed, and doctors in their scrubs was overwhelming. The surgery lasted an hour, with half of my body numbed, yet the music playing on Spotify made the time bearable. Occasionally, I tried to glance at my leg when the doctors were vigorously working — cutting screws or bone, maybe. Some heated discussions among them were unsettling, but I later learned such debates were just another day in the OT.
The highlight was seeing my dad, who had flown in to be with me, and the surprise visit from my college friends. My 95-year-old granny was even fasting for my well-being as I was wheeled into surgery.
Post-surgery, as the anesthesia wore off, the real pain emerged. The sensations of drilling, cutting, and fixing were now painfully evident. That first night, I couldn’t sleep at all, pleading with the nurse to increase my painkillers as the agony became unbearable.
It was two weeks before I was discharged. Remember how I said goodbye to my daughter? Coming home felt like stepping into a new world, navigating my house with a walker, taking it one step at a time. Every night, even the simple act of using the restroom was a monumental task filled with pain and effort. Once, I even misjudged the distance and ended up having an accident. My right calf muscle, once firm and toned, was now just a mushy mass. Oddly enough, my daughter found it amusing to jiggle it.
Chapter 4: Homecoming
The journey of recovery at home was a teacher. Every step was a lesson in patience and resilience. The walker became my constant companion, each step a calculated and conscious effort. Nightly trips to the bathroom were monumental tasks, each one a battle between determination and physical limitation. I learned humility too — accepting help and sometimes failing and facing accidents.
Relearning to walk was a challenge that tested my resolve. My physiotherapist was a guide who pushed me to understand my body anew. She taught me that recovery wasn’t just about healing physically but retraining my brain, teaching it to remember the rhythm and balance of walking.
My wife was my anchor through it all, her tough love mixed with genuine care helped me to push through barriers I never thought I could overcome. Her nudges were reminders that I could do better, and that I wasn’t alone in this journey.
As I progressed, I let go of the aids that had supported me. Selling the walker and cane symbolized a farewell to a phase of dependency I was eager to leave behind. I embraced the new additions to my body — the screws and the plate — as part of me, joking with my family that I was now more ‘upgraded’ than before.
Finally, the bad phase was over but only to realize I gained weight. A lot. Once 75 kg, I was 90 kg. Tummy showing all the prosperity I had earned. Forget running, I was barely walking. I thought I would never get back in shape, running. Or in anything.
Here's what helped me in gaining confidence.
I never allowed my mind to dictate and remain in the comfort zone, the bed.
I devices my own mantra that I kept repeating in my mind. I am strong, I am a fighter, and I am winning everyday. Never ever missed to repeat these lines.The stitches were out, the walker and the stick was packed and sold on OLX. Deliberately so that I do not get hooked to it.
I didn’t allow to get into panic due to the xrays’ or CT scan.
I started taking pride having 3 screws and a plate in my ankle. I once again started humoring that these are the new joiners, in my body and I am befriending them daily. Talking to them if everything is fine with them. For they will be with me forever now.
Never got intimidated by doctors user stories.
TODAY
I am back on track. Yeah, running, gymming, and doing physical exercises fluently. Make sure to say that you are proud of yourself.
Thanks for reading my story.
Update:
I was inspired to publish this story as I challenged myself for the month of May to run. And I ended up running 133 km as of today 27 May 2024. And a total of 108min of plank.
As I was in the emergency ward, I chatted with Prahalad Rajkumar as if nothing happened. Adrenaline and humor.
Thanks to my friends Ashutosh and Pradeep for taking me to the hospital and missing their match.
And Navneet and Nitin to accompany me with regular visits for follow-ups at the hospital.
And the biggest surprise was given by Manish and Santosh who drove all the way from Mumbai to see me. It was totally unexpected and such a delightful surprise.
And so many well-wishers.
I feel blessed having so many people in my life. Jai Sri Hari 🙏
Have you enjoyed this piece? You might also like inspiring book reviews by Prahalad Rajkumar The insights about books and their reviews are both inspiring and contagious.
✍🏽 — Published by LIN at Dancing Elephants Press. Click here for submission guidelines. 🪄
