Getting Reaquainted with "That Foot"

On October 28th, I got the good news that I could transition into a CAM boot again, do some partial weight bearing and, best of all, bathe "normally", get the foot wet, massage lotion on to it, and, basically, get back in touch with that part of my body that has been so protected and even off limits for two months. Nearly two weeks later, I have dabbed some lotion on it from time to time and massaged it but have yet to take a full shower or really get too close to the affected area. I call it the "ewwww" phase, one where you step back emotionally from your own body after it's been sliced up, stitched, swollen and basically a pain in your butt, and feel more than a little leery about embracing it fully.

Back in 1985, when I had to have my gallbladder out, I went through a very similar phase. This was "back in the day" before laser surgery, so I had the old fashioned zipper on my side where the gallbladder was extracted and, during the first week of post-op, I had a lovely little "bile bag" laying atop my abdomen where bile was being diverted away from the surgical site so it wouldn't cause inflammation; the bile would accumulate until a nurse emptied it every few hours. I kept this part of me very well hidden, out of my sight, covered with my johnny or a blanket at all times, and, when the nurse came in to do her thing, I got a crick in my neck from straining to look the other way for those five minutes!

At one of those nursing visits, my mother was there and she was going through the opposite of the "ewwww" phase: the "ahhhhh!" phase. In other words, what I found revolting to look at, she found absolutely fascinating: "wow, Cyndie, you should see this! There's this little bag that is literally drawing the fluid away from your wound and...." I told her as nicely as I could that we were on different pages and could she please keep her "ahhing" to herself! But, to this day, that is one thing about my mother that definitely keeps her young, even at 80 years old: her ability to see wonder where others may see blight.

Fast forward to where I am now and it is a little bit like it was then: I very gingerly touch the back of my foot, feel how downright hard it is there from the scar tissue and the healing incision, and I say "ewwww" but, 24 years after my gallbladder operation, I can manage at least a partial "ahhh", especially now that physical therapy has begun. I go to this great guy in private practice (nothing like going to a clinic) and, because he is so good at what he does and how he does it, it can be hard to get appointments (though I can usually get in if there is a cancellation). I saw him on Friday, 11/6, and, right away knew I was in good hands. He massaged my foot and ankle, had me do some toe pointing upwards, and to each side, and most importantly, urged me to "start getting reaquainted with this foot that has caused you so much grief the past couple of months".

I reminded him that "that foot" has been the bane of my existence since the beginning of the year: I had such pain, I could hardly walk due to tight tendons in my ankle (which one cortisone shot did wonders for, but then it wore off), then I was diagnosed with a bone spur, I got another useless shot, then went on a contraption called a Dyna-Splint meant to stretch that tendon and then, finally, in August, I fell at my office, ruptured the very tendon I have been stretching all these months and here I am. It wasn't until I did that "year in review" with my therapist that it hit me: all of what has happened thus far has, indeed, led me to where I am now. At least now there is hope, the worst appears to be behind me, and, better yet, I am starting to reclaim a body that has, of late, been a disappointment to me. The only way to re-claim, however, is to admit you may never have claimed it to begin with....well, there is no time like the present!