Breaking a leg in the bush

Nearing the end of a 50-day African holiday, my husband, Roger, and I arrived at Ruaha National Park in Tanzania on Saturday, Oct. 22, 2016. 

From the airstrip, we had a wonderful game drive on the way to the Ruaha River Lodge (www.ruahariverlodge.com), seeing a lot of mammals and birds. When we turned into the drive taking us to the lodge, we were greeted by a bull elephant and had to wait for him to get out of the way. 

We spent the next two days on game drives and relaxing by the river while watching wildlife.

On Oct. 24, as I was getting ready to take a shower before bed, I slipped and fell on the slick concrete floor. I knew immediately that my left foot was seriously injured. Roger came running and managed to get me propped up on the toilet before I sent him after ice and help. 

Our cabin was about a quarter mile from the main area of the lodge. Since there was no fencing, animals roamed freely, and we had been strongly admonished to not leave our chalet after dark alone, but we had no phone there, so Roger had no choice but to head out without an escort. 

It seemed like it took forever, but in a few minutes he was back with the ice and two Maasais, who helped me get ready for bed. Graeme, the resident manager, came running down too, but there wasn’t much to be done in the bush in the middle of the night. 

My big concern was getting to the toilet, but I solved that by using a standing towel rack as a walker.

It’s ironic that we had climbed all manner of rocks and rugged terrain in the previous few weeks in Madagascar and Tanzania with no injuries, yet I ended up falling in a bathroom.

The Maasais stayed close to our cabin throughout the night, but I did fine. By morning, I had figured out that I could put some weight on my foot.

Graeme worked with Rhia Steele, my travel consultant from Undiscovered Destinations (The Old Post Office, 63 Saville St., North Shields, Tyne & Wear, England, NE30 1AY, U.K.; phone +44 191 296 2674, www.undiscovered-destinations.com), as well as with the bush airline Fly Safari Airlink (www.flysal.com) and local contacts from Africa Journeys Escapes (Mirage Plaza 2nd Floor, Nairobi, Kenya; phone +254 020 211 0780, www.africa-journeys.com) to get us on a plane headed for Dar es Salaam, Tanzania.

Rhia had made the arrangements for our private tours in Tanzania and Kenya, and she was instrumental in making everything flow smoothly.

(In addition to having joined an Undiscovered Destinations group tour in Madagascar, we had spent two weeks volunteering at the University of Iringa in Tanzania with Global Volunteers [St. Paul, MN; 800/487-1074, global volunteers.org], which we had arranged separately.) 

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There were six stops during the flight to Dar es Salaam, and whenever we went below a certain altitude, the plane heated up like a sauna. I was rather miserable by the time we landed. I asked for a wheelchair, and one was promptly provided by airport staff.

Traffic on the way to Aga Khan Hospital was horrendous and reminded me why I hate cities; the drive took over an hour. We were immediately seen by an admitting physician, who ordered an x-ray, although Roger had to pay for it in advance.

The x-ray showed a break in my fibula at the ankle and a bruise on the tibia. After Roger paid again, they put on a cast that went from just behind the ball of my foot to about halfway to my knee. 

We tried to get crutches, but the hospital didn’t have any. I was told to take Zerodol, keep my leg elevated and come back to see the orthopedic surgeon on Friday.

After the doctor put on the cast, she said “Pole” (pronounced “Poley”), then asked if I knew what that meant in Kiswahili. She said it was their way of expressing that they’re sorry for someone’s pain. Afterward, I noticed how often I heard “Pole” and “Sorry.” They were said with such compassion that I felt the sincerity behind the words.

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We arrived at the Urban Rose Hotel & Apartments (phone +255 22 212 7777, www.rosehotel.co.tz), in Dar es Salaam, close to 10 p.m. There was a steep incline with no rail, and I had no wheelchair or crutches. It took three people and a luggage cart to get me to our room, which was very large.

We asked for a small bed to put next to the bathroom. The dining set had two plastic, wicker-style chairs that I used to help me take a much-needed shower. I was exhausted.

Roger went down for breakfast and ordered a meal for me from room service. He also asked someone to help us find some crutches, which they soon did. The crutches gave me a bit of mobility, once I got the rhythm.

On the way back from lunch, the manager stopped us and called Barack, our local contact in Nairobi with Africa Journeys Escapes (through which our safari and transport in Tanzania and Kenya had been arranged). Barack had been waiting for an update. 

I explained the situation and said we hoped to leave on Friday, after seeing the doctor, and get back on our schedule. We would miss the Selous Game Reserve altogether.

The rest of that day and the next we hung out at the hotel, where I slept a lot. Friday, Oct. 28, was another hectic, stressful day, spent waiting for a ride to the hospital, figuring out their system, seeing the doctor, getting a different cast put on, then dealing with records and transportation back to the hotel. And that was just the first three hours! 

It took another hour to figure out our next move and more than an hour to get from the Urban Rose to the airport, where getting a wheelchair was another issue. It was a good thing we had a letter from the doctor or we wouldn’t have been allowed on the plane. 

It all worked out in the end, though, and we made it to the Olasiti Lodge (phone +255 689 111 227, tanganyikawildernesscamps.com), in Arusha, Tanzania, a little after 4 p.m. 

Actually, during the whole event, we just followed everyone’s directions. Rhia, the lodge and hotel managers, airline employees and the tour operator worked everything out to make sure we had the best possible experience under the circumstances.

Having arrived in the Arusha area, it was refreshing to be out of the city hustle. We continued our safaris at Ngorongoro Crater and at Lake Manyara, Aberdare and Amboseli national parks. Most of the lodges had wheelchairs and had made attempts at accessibility. Staff were always more than willing to assist in any way they could.

When we arrived in Nairobi, our driver took us to The Mater Hospital so I could get the cast split to allow for swelling during the upcoming long flights home. Having the cast split was a requirement of Lufthansa.

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The most touching incident in our 50-day adventure was in the hospital’s emergency room. Sitting on a bed across from me was a boy of about 5 or 6 years old. We made faces at each other and waved and smiled until the curtain was closed.

Shortly thereafter, he started screaming and crying. I couldn’t see what was happening except that his mother was lying on him, holding him down. After 15 minutes or so, he quieted down, and a few minutes later he came around the curtain to me. He was smiling and reached out his hand to touch me.

That’s when I saw that he had a 2-inch gash on the back of his head, which they had just stitched without the benefit of a local anesthetic. 

I told him he was a very brave boy. I don’t think he understood my English words, but he did understand the tone. His smile got bigger. His mother understood, though, and agreed with me.

I didn’t have my camera, but it was an image I’ll never forget.

LIBBY CAGLE
Cedar Key, FL