May 10th, 2026

Last week, I focused mainly on the human side of this unexpected adventure: the doubts, the enforced patience, the moments of discouragement, but also the ability to keep moving forward despite everything. Today, it is time to look at the chronology of this journey, which has now lasted exactly three years. Three years during which a single moment in Morocco’s High Atlas turned into a long medical expedition, marked by operations, complications, rehabilitation… and a considerable amount of mental endurance.

On 10 May 2023, at around 2:00 p.m., I was simply about to capture the magnificent landscape of the High Atlas. It was an ordinary, almost contemplative moment. A few seconds later, a violent fall against a rock. Strangely, there was no immediate pain. The verdict at the hospital in Midelt: a dislocated ankle.

It was at that precise moment that my journey in Morocco came to an abrupt halt… and an entirely different journey began: the long road to recovery. Three years on, it is clear that what initially seemed a rather trivial incident has yet to reach its conclusion.

At the hospital in Midelt, an initial emergency procedure was carried out to enable my repatriation to Switzerland. Three Kirschner wires were inserted to temporarily stabilise the ankle. The return was organised with the assistance of the Touring Club Switzerland (TCS), as my accident insurance with KPT, for its part, preferred to remain a spectator.

On 15 May, back in Switzerland, a second operation was required to remove the wires, which had in the meantime become deformed. The cause: a transfer without crutches and premature weight-bearing on the injured leg.

On 19 May, four days later, a plate and screws were fitted to provide lasting stabilisation to the joint. This was the third operation. At that stage, the scenario appeared straightforward: three months in a cast, followed by a gradual return to normal.

Reality proved far more complex.

A persistent sense of instability remained. An X-ray imaging confirmed that one of the screws had broken and the plate shifted.

On 30 June, a fourth operation followed. This time, the diagnosis was more concerning: a staphylococcal infection. The plate and screws were removed, and antibiotic treatment was initiated.

On 23 October 2023, a fifth operation: a new plate was inserted. Once again, this was followed by three months in a cast and severely reduced mobility.

A year later, the pain returned. A CT scan revealed that the screws at the ankle were no longer holding.

On 16 October 2024, a sixth operation. Once again: a staphylococcal infection, removal of the plate and screws, and a prolonged course of antibiotics. Bone infections are notoriously difficult to treat, largely due to limited blood supply, and patience becomes a therapeutic parameter in its own right.

An orthosis was then fitted, with the hope of avoiding further surgery. It allowed a degree of independence, even without crutches. An improvement… until early April 2025.

Acute pain developed above the ankle, at times barely tolerable. Emergency hospitalisation followed.

On 15 April 2025, a seventh operation: a thrombosis was diagnosed. The orthosis had compressed slightly too tightly, restricting blood flow, an unexpected side effect, to say the least.

At the same time, nerve spasms appeared in the foot. The neurological diagnosis was established: post-operative neuropathy, relatively common in such cases. Medication helped to ease the symptoms. I now collect prescriptions much like others collect stamps.

Given the complexity of the case, my surgeon, Dr Flückiger, proposed a more radical procedure in collaboration with Professor Krause. The objective: to definitively stabilise the ankle using a rod running from the heel up into the tibia, secured with multiple screws, called AAN (Ankle Arthrosis Nail), in English “tibiotalocalcaneal nail for ankle arthrodesis”. A major operation considered a last-resort solution. The alternative, in the event of failure, was clearly stated: amputation.

That kind of sentence puts things into perspective.

On 16 December 2025, the eighth operation took place. The procedure went as planned, and I was able to return home for Christmas. The break was short-lived: inflammation around a suture required a further intervention.

On 25 December, the ninth operation!

As if the calendar were not already full enough, another episode followed: while turning in bed, a brief but searing pain shot through my leg. Immediate X-ray. The verdict: a tibial fracture. The multiple perforations caused by the screws, combined with bone weakening due to infection, had compromised the structural integrity of the bone. I returned home in a cast for the festive period.

On 5 January 2026, a tenth operation at Sonnenhof Hospital: insertion of a long plate to stabilise the tibia. The surgery was performed by Dr Huber, as Professor Krause was on leave at the time, presumably somewhere rather less clinical.

Today, 10 May 2026, marks a particular anniversary. Three years to the day since that fall in the High Atlas.

Ten operations. Two staphylococcal infections. One thrombosis. One neuropathy. One tibial fracture. A repatriation organised by the TCS. And a level of patience I never imagined I possessed. Today, I move around on crutches. But I move.

I would never have imagined that a photography in Morocco would take me this far, and certainly not in the direction I had envisioned that day.

My surgeons, the entire hospital team, and my general practitioner all share the same sense of surprise: they wonder at the apparent calm with which I accept the situation. My answer is simple, almost pragmatic: “I have no choice, it is what it is.”

That said, this attitude reflects only part of the reality. Behind this acceptance, there are inevitably moments of frustration, and at times even discouragement. The most recent occurred just last month, when my surgeon prescribed a new device to stabilise my foot… for another six weeks. It is fair to say that this was not quite the news I had hoped for.