"Well Julie, I've got some good news and some bad news," Ben Collins, a middle-aged orthopedic surgeon at the Duke University Medical Center, announced as he and Beth Foster, an eager young orthopedic resident, finished examining the X-rays of my lower left leg and turned their attention to the leg itself. "What do you want to hear first? The good news or the bad news?"

"How bad is it?" I asked apprehensively. I found myself lying on a cold examination table. My field hockey uniform had been replaced with a blue hospital gown when I arrived at the hospital.

"The bad news is that you have a broken leg. You've suffered complete, displaced fractures of your tibia and fibula," Dr. Collins matter-of-factly explained. "The tibia fracture is slightly above mid-shaft, and the fibula fracture is closer to your ankle."

"What's the good news?" I asked. I had known that my leg was broken from the moment that I collided with the North Carolina goalie, but it still sounded strange to hear the official diagnosis.

"The good news is that the fractures look clean, and I should be able to get them reduced without having to operate."

"What are you going to do?" I asked nervously.

"I'm going to set your leg," Dr. Collins answered. "I'll physically move your broken bones back into their proper alignment."

"What?" I responded as I tried to comprehend the terrifying-sounding explanation. The horrific pain that I felt after breaking my leg had been alleviated somewhat by a Demerol injection that I received when I arrived at the hospital. Even with the Demerol, however, the X-ray process had brought me to tears. I couldn't imagine the degree of pain that would accompany Dr. Collins' violent manipulation of my broken leg.

"I know that it sounds barbaric, and there will be a lot of pain, but the whole process should only take a few seconds," Dr. Collins explained reassuringly. "You'll be much more comfortable once we get this all over with."

"When can you do it?" I asked.

"How about right now?" he responded with a question, leaving me with the final decision about whether to go ahead with a procedure that I knew would cause me tremendous pain.

"Alright," I answered.

"Beth, why don't you go ahead and apply the stockinet to Julie's leg. I think that we'll go ahead and cast the leg as soon as we get it set." I heard Dr. Collins explain to his young colleague as he filled a stainless steel bucket with water and began assembling what appeared to be a variety of plaster bandages on a small cart.

"Of course," Dr. Foster responded eagerly.

"What are you doing?" I asked nervously as Dr. Foster carefully lifted my left leg off the examination and began to pull a white stocking over my entire left leg.

"This is called a surgical stockinet. It allows your leg to breathe while you're in your cast." Dr. Foster explained as she extended one end of the stocking up to the very top of my thigh while leaving the other end extending just beyond my toes.

"Are we ready?" Dr. Collins asked as he brought the small cart and the bucket of water to the examination table.

"I guess so." I answered meekly as Dr. Foster placed her hands around my lower left thigh and Dr. Collins took my left foot into his hand. While Dr. Foster held my leg steady against the examination table, Dr. Collins began to force my broken bones back into their proper alignment by pulling down on my heel and simultaneously pushing up against my knee. Sweat formed over my entire body as I struggled against indescribable pain, clenching both sides of the examination table and violently arching my back upward.

"You're doing great, Julie." Dr. Foster encouraged me as Dr. Collins continued his assault on my leg.

"We're almost there." I heard Dr. Collins gasp.

"Oh God!" I cried out as tears streamed down my face, mixing with the collected perspiration.

"There!" Dr. Collins exclaimed with satisfaction as a violent cracking sound reverberated though the examination room, punctuating the realignment of my broken bones. "That wasn't so bad, was it?" He asked facetiously as he struggled to catch his breath and used the back of his shirtsleeve to wipe sweat from his forehead.

"Oh God." I repeated as I unclenched my fists and laid back down on the cold examination table.

"You were really great, Julie." Dr. Foster comforted me as she used a damp towel to wipe off my face.

"Why don't we go ahead and get you fitted into your cast?" Dr. Collins suggested after he regained his composure.

"Is it going to hurt?" I asked.

"It won't hurt a bit." Dr. Collins smiled and nodded toward Dr. Foster as he answered my question.

"O.K." I responded and watched as Dr. Foster gently lifted my leg off the examination table. Dr. Collins subsequently began to wrap a gauze-like material around my leg, beginning with my foot and quickly moving up towards my hip.

"This is called sheet wadding," Dr. Collins explained as he began to wrap the material around my thigh. "The cast itself will be very hard, and this sheet wadding acts as padding," Dr. Collins continued as he dipped a roll of the plaster bandages into the bucket of water.

"How big will my cast be?" I asked as Dr. Collins began to wrap the plaster bandages around my foot.

"I'm afraid that it's going to have to be a full leg cast. We've got to bring the cast up near the top of your thigh to ensure that the bones in your leg don't move around any. If they're moving around then your leg will never heal properly." Dr. Collins answered with a sympathetic smile as he carefully worked the plaster around my ankle and lower calf.

"Oh," I responded as I propped myself onto my elbows and watched Dr. Collins continue to methodically apply the plaster to my broken left leg. I was surprised by the care that Dr. Collins took when he applied my cast, working slowly to ensure that the cast remained smooth and that it followed the contour of my leg. I became engrossed by Dr. Collins' meticulousness when he cautiously wrapped the plaster around my knee.

"How are you holding up?" Dr. Collins asked as he began to wrap the plaster around my thigh.

"I'm okay."

"How does your leg feel now?" Dr. Collins inquired as he worked the plaster up around the middle of my thigh.

"It feels better." I answered honestly. The intense pain subsided after Dr. Collins realigned the broken bones, and the plaster bandages brought a strangely comforting warmth.

"Sorry about this," Dr. Collins apologized as he lifted up my gown and wrapped the plaster around my upper thigh. I shuddered with embarrassing arousal as Dr. Collins' hand accidentally brushed against my panties as he slowly wrapped the plaster around the very top of my inner thigh. When he finished wrapping the plaster around my upper thigh, Dr. Collins turned his attention toward the stockinet that extended beyond both ends of my cast. He slowly turned the stockinet down over the top of my cast and secured it with a final strip of plaster. "All done," he exclaimed with satisfaction after he repeated the process at my toes. As he removed his latex gloves, Dr. Foster carefully lowered my leg onto a small stand.

"Wow," I quietly exclaimed as I sat up straight and gazed down at the milky white plaster cast that encased my entire left leg. The plaster began at the base of my toes and extended up near the very top of my thigh.

"Julie, Beth is going to get you cleaned up and help you get comfortable. Everything looks good, but we're going to keep you here at the hospital for a couple of days of observation just to make sure that you don't have any complications." Dr. Collins explained as he made some notations on my chart and made his way toward the door.

"Okay," I answered and continued to stare at my cast as Dr. Collins left the room.

"Let's get you cleaned up," Dr. Foster cheerfully exclaimed as she used a warm washcloth to clean the many stray plaster specks from my toes. I enjoyed the feel of the soft cloth being rubbed gently against my toes. I leaned back as Dr. Foster turned her attention toward the top of my thigh. I again became embarrassingly aroused when Dr. Foster's hand brushed against my panties as she tenderly cleaned the very top of my inner thigh.

"Thank you," I whispered when Dr. Foster finished cleaning off my leg. I realized that I could hardly keep my eyes open.

"Why don't you try to get some rest while your cast dries," Dr. Foster offered as she gently squeezed my toes.

"That sounds like a good idea," I responded as I drifted off to sleep. I had survived the worst day of my life.