About 3 1/2 weeks into "recovery" I knew something was not right, it felt like my foot was not connected to my leg (a retrospective "duh" always pops into my head at this point in the story). I went in to see another doctor and he took new x-rays. He suggested I start walking on it as much as I could even though I told him that my foot was not connected to my leg. When I "walked" it was like I was shoving my leg into my foot and using the whole thing more like a cane than a leg. Apparently he didn't understand and sent me on my way, there was no way I could walk so I was still on crutches while randomly shoving my leg into my foot. About 8 hours later I got out of class and found about 15 texts on my phone, 6 missed calls, and a bunch of voice mails.
After I had left the doctor's that day, the x-rays had been sent off to radiology for an expert to look at them. It was here where the giant fracture in my talus was found and the doctors started to panic for telling me to walk on it. I was immediately scheduled for surgery. They explained to me that the nature of my injury was very unique and there would be a team of 3 surgeons working on my foot. This isn't something anyone wants to hear, I wanted to hear "oh, we do this all the time, we know exactly what to do." Instead there was a looming unknown on both parts- the doctors and myself. It all happened so fast though that I didn't have much time to process any of it so I went in, came out, and knew that God had a plan for whatever was going to happen.
They were right, the injury was quite unique: I had fractured the dome top of the talus off and it flipped totally upside down and sat inverted for the month I had been misdiagnosed. Everyone is baffled as to how this actually was accomplished but the surgeons took care of it, drilled in a bioabsorbable pin (no metal!) to connect the two pieces and called it a day.