2010 arrived without a lot of fanfare, but, as so many others are saying, could 2009 have been any more the pits? Among other things: the world lost a lot of cool people (Michael Jackson and Patrick Swayze among others), people close to me lost loved ones, the economy sucked, two good friends and co-workers of mine got laid off and, oh yes, let's not forget that I ruptured my achilles tendon, had surgery in September, didn't drive until nearly mid-December and was out on a three month leave from work! So, 2010 is quite welcome here.
I do believe I have turned a corner where my recovery from my surgery is concerned. It's still pretty weak when I do any pushing off (e.g., going up stairs) and I can't walk at a regular pace yet, but there is starting to be more fluidity and a feeling of progress without any of the former "1 step forward, 2 steps back" mentality. At my last PT appointment, I was told I am ready to start wrapping up, so I'll have only one appointment this coming week and then the following week and I will be DONE! As Mr. PT guy said this to me, I was feeling rather winded and tired from having a 10 lb pulley weight on me and doing lunges front to back and then side to side, so I was kind of not believing I was really all that ready to fly the coop, but I have trusted his assessments all along and won't stop now!
So, all I can do now is just keep trucking on, try more and more not to favor my right leg and ankle and finally give my poor overworked left leg and ankle some relief. I look forward to when I can take an actual walk again, one where I can actually get my heart rate up and feel some therapeutic benefit. From what I have been told, I'm probably only a couple of months away from that, so Spring should be a time to celebrate!
I think it's time to call an end to this Dealing with My Healing blog and move on to something more generic, as I do have other challenges to conquer (like my ever present quest to lose at least 35 pounds!) So stay tuned, you never know what I might be cooking up next. And, whatever you do, let me serve as a warning to anyone middle aged, somewhat overweight and not very attentive to how they walk: this CAN happen to you if you aren't more in touch with yourself, the pain your body sends your way to let you know something is up (in my case, a bone spur that I agonized with for 8 months before I took my fall in September) and if you don't care enough to put your health first for awhile. My next step truly is to care better for myself and not let this whole ordeal go by without learning from it to the max.
Sunday, January 3, 2010
Monday, December 14, 2009
Re-Entry Time: How it Really Feels to be "Back"
I knew that I would not sleep last night hardly at all and I was right. My body felt tired enough around midnight but my mind was clicking away, worrying a bit about an inservice I was scheduled to give this morning on my first day back at work in three months. I also had no idea what it would feel like to be "back" among everyone I work with, having been out of the loop on the usual inside jokes that you tend to miss out on when you cannot walk without crutches.
I made the mistake of watching the season finale of "Dexter", you know the show with the serial killer who has a "code", meaning he "only" kills people who have it coming! Well, spoiler alert if you are a fan and haven't seen the season 4 finale: Dexter's long suffering, naive but very devoted wife, Rita, ends up murdered in the last 60 seconds of the episode. Dexter has just put down yet another serial killer (played eerily by John Lithgow) but, as he is doing so, Lithgow's character murmurs, "It's already over...." which is a tip off that he has done in Rita before Dexter could track him down and chop him up for tomorrow's leftovers. All this said, it did NOT help my sleeping mood one bit!
But on to less deadly situations which is my return to work. I surprised myself (and, I think, a few of my co-workers) by giving them hugs when they welcomed me back. I was truly trying to set the tone, that of the "kinder, gentler Cyndia" who could walk in(with some obvious pain and difficulty still) and be immediately....kinder and gentler! I still had a gnawing sense of anxiety in my stomach as I walked to my office, saying hello to others and realizing I had to do this inservice in less than 15 minutes. Right from the beginning, despite my PDA (public displays of affection), I could tell something felt "off" to me. Not surprisingly, I did quite well with my presentation, feeling comfortable with the topic and feeling like I was holding peoples' attention pretty well. But, as soon as the meeting ended, I saw everyone go off into their various "pods", giggling and conversing about their patients, while I collected my papers and really felt a strong sense of isolation. It is fair to say that this isolation was most likely coming from me, not my co-workers, but it still didn't make me feel all that great.
As I went through a number of work duties, a few people stuck their heads in to say hi and welcome back and that was nice....but still I felt "off". The morning went by pretty quickly and I stayed busy, but was always aware of the conversations in the hallway that I had no reference point for because I didn't know who they were talking about (how could I, I hadn't been there for three months) and feeling no strong urge to get up and mingle. By noontime, a huge sense of fatigue came over me that didn't leave until I finally left at 2:00. I made the mistake (hindsight is always 20/20) of being a little too unfiltered, meaning that when people asked me "How is it to be back?" I paused a moment and said, truthfully, "Kind of weird, plus I'm really tired for some reason." Why couldn't I just be Perky Pam and say (a la Tony the Tiger) "Why, it's grrrrrrreat to be here and I feel like a million bucks!" Ah, well.
My supervisor has been put through the mill in my absence and, while I know she is glad I'm back, she kind of kept her distance today which surprised me a bit. I knew she was busy, but I guess I thought I rated a little more fervor than what I got from her. Later, it hit me: she is probably a little pissed that I've been gone these last three months, causing her a lot more work and responsibility and then, when I come back after three months of sleeping in late and daytime TV, I have the nerve to say it's only "kind of OK" to be back and, even worse, that I'm "really tired". I mean, who the f**k do I think I am??
I'm sure things will iron themselves out as I get my feet wet and feel more acclimated to the new environment but still it was unsettling for me. I was determined to not walk back in and be swamped by any negative attitude going on yet I do believe some of it was emanating from within me, not just from those around me. Sometimes it sucks to be so insightful that you truly know when it's "all about you"!
I made the mistake of watching the season finale of "Dexter", you know the show with the serial killer who has a "code", meaning he "only" kills people who have it coming! Well, spoiler alert if you are a fan and haven't seen the season 4 finale: Dexter's long suffering, naive but very devoted wife, Rita, ends up murdered in the last 60 seconds of the episode. Dexter has just put down yet another serial killer (played eerily by John Lithgow) but, as he is doing so, Lithgow's character murmurs, "It's already over...." which is a tip off that he has done in Rita before Dexter could track him down and chop him up for tomorrow's leftovers. All this said, it did NOT help my sleeping mood one bit!
But on to less deadly situations which is my return to work. I surprised myself (and, I think, a few of my co-workers) by giving them hugs when they welcomed me back. I was truly trying to set the tone, that of the "kinder, gentler Cyndia" who could walk in(with some obvious pain and difficulty still) and be immediately....kinder and gentler! I still had a gnawing sense of anxiety in my stomach as I walked to my office, saying hello to others and realizing I had to do this inservice in less than 15 minutes. Right from the beginning, despite my PDA (public displays of affection), I could tell something felt "off" to me. Not surprisingly, I did quite well with my presentation, feeling comfortable with the topic and feeling like I was holding peoples' attention pretty well. But, as soon as the meeting ended, I saw everyone go off into their various "pods", giggling and conversing about their patients, while I collected my papers and really felt a strong sense of isolation. It is fair to say that this isolation was most likely coming from me, not my co-workers, but it still didn't make me feel all that great.
As I went through a number of work duties, a few people stuck their heads in to say hi and welcome back and that was nice....but still I felt "off". The morning went by pretty quickly and I stayed busy, but was always aware of the conversations in the hallway that I had no reference point for because I didn't know who they were talking about (how could I, I hadn't been there for three months) and feeling no strong urge to get up and mingle. By noontime, a huge sense of fatigue came over me that didn't leave until I finally left at 2:00. I made the mistake (hindsight is always 20/20) of being a little too unfiltered, meaning that when people asked me "How is it to be back?" I paused a moment and said, truthfully, "Kind of weird, plus I'm really tired for some reason." Why couldn't I just be Perky Pam and say (a la Tony the Tiger) "Why, it's grrrrrrreat to be here and I feel like a million bucks!" Ah, well.
My supervisor has been put through the mill in my absence and, while I know she is glad I'm back, she kind of kept her distance today which surprised me a bit. I knew she was busy, but I guess I thought I rated a little more fervor than what I got from her. Later, it hit me: she is probably a little pissed that I've been gone these last three months, causing her a lot more work and responsibility and then, when I come back after three months of sleeping in late and daytime TV, I have the nerve to say it's only "kind of OK" to be back and, even worse, that I'm "really tired". I mean, who the f**k do I think I am??
I'm sure things will iron themselves out as I get my feet wet and feel more acclimated to the new environment but still it was unsettling for me. I was determined to not walk back in and be swamped by any negative attitude going on yet I do believe some of it was emanating from within me, not just from those around me. Sometimes it sucks to be so insightful that you truly know when it's "all about you"!
Thursday, December 10, 2009
Free at Last, Free at Last!
Not to sound too much like Martin Luther King, but indeed I do feel "free at last" in terms of getting official clearance (on 12/9/09) to begin driving again and to start back to work on 12/14/09 pretty much full-time.
Yesterday marked three months (that's 90+ days for those of you who need a total) since my surgery, a time when I was told that I would not be able to drive for three months and that, possibly by around this time, I would finally be able to wear a soft shoe, not just a CAM boot any longer. I bought some nice sneakers with velcro straps on them that have been fine for my physical therapy appointments and for wearing when I go out and they are a nice change from the usual stiff-backed boot or splints I was wearing in the very beginning.
Today in physical therapy was tough, but it was even more evident that I'd gone on to a new phase soon after I left. I had a terrible time walking without limping, as my achilles tendon had just been worked pretty well, even though the exercises didn't seem all THAT gruelling when I was doing them. I made the mistake of going to the grocery store right after my appointment and it didn't take long until my PT worker's words rang true: "You're going to start having some pain, some swelling, and it's going to feel like a setback at first because, in phase one, it was just massaging the foot and ankle and doing some partial weight bearing. Now we need to move on to full weight bearing and stretching the very muscle that, for two months, you were told to stay OFF of." So I shuffled rather feebly down a few grocery aisles, got what I needed, then shuffled home where I could plop on the couch and do some light massage on my now sore tendon. Think it's going to be an interesting re-entry back to world of walking again! When I saw my surgeon yesterday, she pretty much signed me off of Workers Compensation though she did agree to have me return to work for six hours a day for the first two weeks, then back up to my usual 7.5 hours, so worker's comp will still pay a small portion of my salary but not for very much longer.
I immediately started to feel my wheels turning about going back to work, where our census is down, staff are not happy, and management may be looking to make more cuts in hours. A co-worker visited me earlier this week who pretty much summed it up as "it sucks there right now" which, again, put me on notice that whatever relaxation I may have gotten these past twelve weeks will be greatly challenged when I step back through the doors of my agency next week. That said, I know I will need to focus on staying within myself and not letting too much stress stick to me. I have been deep in the thick of the toxic work environment several times before in my life and know very steadfastly that I don't want to go back there....ever again! My co-worker shared with me that she had gotten some startling health news recently that was helping her re-evaluate what was important to her/not important and I realized I felt very much the same way. Being "out of the loop" made me terribly anxious at first, and now, conversely, I feel that way about being IN it. It should be interesting to see how much I can remain within my bubble of calm and self-improvement as I re-enter a busy, chaotic workplace.
The most important thing to me now is my continued recovery and progress in walking properly and without pain. I am certainly NOT there yet. I also need to work at getting off those 6-7 pounds I feel I have put on (some of my clothes are definitely tighter) and just having a regular program of exercise that I can tolerate. I have a home Ellyptical machine that I love to use but I don't think I'll be up to that task for awhile. So, I have to find new and different ways to get my heart rate up without taxing my recuperating body. This should, indeed, be quite "interesting" to experience.
Yesterday marked three months (that's 90+ days for those of you who need a total) since my surgery, a time when I was told that I would not be able to drive for three months and that, possibly by around this time, I would finally be able to wear a soft shoe, not just a CAM boot any longer. I bought some nice sneakers with velcro straps on them that have been fine for my physical therapy appointments and for wearing when I go out and they are a nice change from the usual stiff-backed boot or splints I was wearing in the very beginning.
Today in physical therapy was tough, but it was even more evident that I'd gone on to a new phase soon after I left. I had a terrible time walking without limping, as my achilles tendon had just been worked pretty well, even though the exercises didn't seem all THAT gruelling when I was doing them. I made the mistake of going to the grocery store right after my appointment and it didn't take long until my PT worker's words rang true: "You're going to start having some pain, some swelling, and it's going to feel like a setback at first because, in phase one, it was just massaging the foot and ankle and doing some partial weight bearing. Now we need to move on to full weight bearing and stretching the very muscle that, for two months, you were told to stay OFF of." So I shuffled rather feebly down a few grocery aisles, got what I needed, then shuffled home where I could plop on the couch and do some light massage on my now sore tendon. Think it's going to be an interesting re-entry back to world of walking again! When I saw my surgeon yesterday, she pretty much signed me off of Workers Compensation though she did agree to have me return to work for six hours a day for the first two weeks, then back up to my usual 7.5 hours, so worker's comp will still pay a small portion of my salary but not for very much longer.
I immediately started to feel my wheels turning about going back to work, where our census is down, staff are not happy, and management may be looking to make more cuts in hours. A co-worker visited me earlier this week who pretty much summed it up as "it sucks there right now" which, again, put me on notice that whatever relaxation I may have gotten these past twelve weeks will be greatly challenged when I step back through the doors of my agency next week. That said, I know I will need to focus on staying within myself and not letting too much stress stick to me. I have been deep in the thick of the toxic work environment several times before in my life and know very steadfastly that I don't want to go back there....ever again! My co-worker shared with me that she had gotten some startling health news recently that was helping her re-evaluate what was important to her/not important and I realized I felt very much the same way. Being "out of the loop" made me terribly anxious at first, and now, conversely, I feel that way about being IN it. It should be interesting to see how much I can remain within my bubble of calm and self-improvement as I re-enter a busy, chaotic workplace.
The most important thing to me now is my continued recovery and progress in walking properly and without pain. I am certainly NOT there yet. I also need to work at getting off those 6-7 pounds I feel I have put on (some of my clothes are definitely tighter) and just having a regular program of exercise that I can tolerate. I have a home Ellyptical machine that I love to use but I don't think I'll be up to that task for awhile. So, I have to find new and different ways to get my heart rate up without taxing my recuperating body. This should, indeed, be quite "interesting" to experience.
Friday, November 27, 2009
Attending to Thanksgiving with a-Tendon On the Fritz
Sorry for the bad pun but I couldn't resist! Just for the record, if someone ever tries to tell you that cooking isn't more than a little tough on your feet and ankles, tell them to read this blog.
Expecting a total of six of us for Thanksgiving dinner today, and knowing how much I enjoy the leftovers, I purposely got a larger than usual turkey - right around 20 pounds. That's just fine if you are a linebacker for the New England Patriots, but toting the damned bird around back and forth from kitchen island to other counter to stovetop and then into the oven, and then back out again four hours later is no easy feat. Not just that, but, since my partner had gone back to bed to catch up on some lost sleep, I did this all by myself, including the even neater trick of getting it into the Reynolds Oven Bag (wish there had been a camera filming me at that point). Anyway, the dinner went just fine and everything was perfectly yummy but, as we all plopped down in the living room to watch a movie after stuffing ourselves, I noticed a rather large "egg" on my ankle meaning I was swelling up quickly from the long ordeal I'd been through. Out came the familiar ice pack/package of frozen vegetables and, before too long, it subsided and thanked me for taking a breather!
One thing I must have decided early on, going back to just after my surgery took place and I could barely get up off my couch: this was NOT going to defeat me or prevent me from still having a life. In the past two months, I have been on a walker, crutches, a CAM boot, then just down to one crutch and finally walking (at times) with soft velcro-fastening sneakers that are nice and comfy and "real shoes". This is a nice progression when you think about it and I owe a lot of it to obeying my doctor and physical therapist and not pushing things beyond what is comfortable....until today. Doing battle with a twenty pound, slippery, cold, wet bird left me feeling like I was the victim of a TKO (technical knock out!), at least for a little while.
But I have to say it was worth it. Everyone thoroughly enjoyed the meal (and thanks, Mom, for the awesome stuffing you always made which I continue to make now many years later - there was hardly any left!), and, even better, we enjoyed each other's company, had a lot of laughs and topped things off with a bizarre comedy called "Lars and the Real Girl". In other words, everyone was happy before, during and after this very long day. So, for anyone who is dreading or has already gone through a ruptured achilles tendon surgery, just take this much to heart: even though your life will change dramatically for a few months, you WILL still enjoy Thanksgiving, a large turkey with great stuffing and, best of all, the kid in you who always enjoyed these holidays should survive intact...if you just attend to it from time to time and, just once in a while, break a few rules! Just make sure to ice down any swelling and no one will ever be the wiser. :-)
Expecting a total of six of us for Thanksgiving dinner today, and knowing how much I enjoy the leftovers, I purposely got a larger than usual turkey - right around 20 pounds. That's just fine if you are a linebacker for the New England Patriots, but toting the damned bird around back and forth from kitchen island to other counter to stovetop and then into the oven, and then back out again four hours later is no easy feat. Not just that, but, since my partner had gone back to bed to catch up on some lost sleep, I did this all by myself, including the even neater trick of getting it into the Reynolds Oven Bag (wish there had been a camera filming me at that point). Anyway, the dinner went just fine and everything was perfectly yummy but, as we all plopped down in the living room to watch a movie after stuffing ourselves, I noticed a rather large "egg" on my ankle meaning I was swelling up quickly from the long ordeal I'd been through. Out came the familiar ice pack/package of frozen vegetables and, before too long, it subsided and thanked me for taking a breather!
One thing I must have decided early on, going back to just after my surgery took place and I could barely get up off my couch: this was NOT going to defeat me or prevent me from still having a life. In the past two months, I have been on a walker, crutches, a CAM boot, then just down to one crutch and finally walking (at times) with soft velcro-fastening sneakers that are nice and comfy and "real shoes". This is a nice progression when you think about it and I owe a lot of it to obeying my doctor and physical therapist and not pushing things beyond what is comfortable....until today. Doing battle with a twenty pound, slippery, cold, wet bird left me feeling like I was the victim of a TKO (technical knock out!), at least for a little while.
But I have to say it was worth it. Everyone thoroughly enjoyed the meal (and thanks, Mom, for the awesome stuffing you always made which I continue to make now many years later - there was hardly any left!), and, even better, we enjoyed each other's company, had a lot of laughs and topped things off with a bizarre comedy called "Lars and the Real Girl". In other words, everyone was happy before, during and after this very long day. So, for anyone who is dreading or has already gone through a ruptured achilles tendon surgery, just take this much to heart: even though your life will change dramatically for a few months, you WILL still enjoy Thanksgiving, a large turkey with great stuffing and, best of all, the kid in you who always enjoyed these holidays should survive intact...if you just attend to it from time to time and, just once in a while, break a few rules! Just make sure to ice down any swelling and no one will ever be the wiser. :-)
Sunday, November 22, 2009
Look, Ma, no Crutches!
I know I am a bit ahead of schedule in actually taking a few steps without ANY assistive device, but I am being careful and only doing so in the house. Sometimes I have the CAM boot on, sometimes not, and this draws a little consternation from Lucy but, throughout this whole ordeal, I have been listening to what my body says and it has been telling me this is OK, just testing the waters!
The past two weeks of physical therapy have involved enjoying a nice manual stimulation of the foot and ankle in the office, then ending each session with learning some new range of motion exercises that I am to do at home. In the first session, I blanched when PT guy told me to point my foot up towards me (meaning in a stretch exercise). My mind said "can't do it without it feeling weird" but my foot went ahead and did it anyway. He has also had me rock the foot from side to side, around in small circles each way and, just last week, I sat on the edge of my couch with both feet on the floor and slowly pulled up my right heel (leaving the ball of the foot on the floor) ten times, and then pulled up the ball of my foot, (leaving the heel on the floor). The most exhausting one of all consists of lying on my back and putting a large pillow between my feet, then pressing in on the pillow with each foot (so the toes are aimed at the center of the pillow), holding this for ten seconds each time. It certainly has put me in touch with muscles I haven't used for a while! I have never felt any pain doing these exercises, just a very tight feeling right around the ankle, like something in there is encased in cement and needs a lot of wiggle room!
I had the ultimate frustration on Friday because Lucy had a health issue and needed to go to her doctor's, with the hope that she would be back in time to take me to physical therapy. As luck would have it, the doctor ordered her to go to the E.R. for some tests meaning I had to get a taxi both ways (to the tune of about $30.00), but that really wasn't the worst part. Because I had no way of knowing that my partner would end up in the E.R., I wasn't there to support her or just be at her side during the several hours she was there. Some friends in the area came over and sat with her, even having her sleep over at their house that evening because she was in no shape to drive. I sat her alone in my home wishing I could be with her but then, realizing later, it was probably good that I didn't go because there would have been TWO of us needing a place to crash that night, and these friends have a small apartment and, for some reason, I am more allergic there to their animal hair/dander than I am here and I always suffer for it. Still, it was just one of those times when my inability to drive and be independent left me feeling kind of sorry for myself and also for my partner having to go through something without me.
If all goes as it has been going so far, it looks like I could be back at work three weeks from tomrrow. My executive director has already gleefully slated me to do an inservice the very morning I return, to educate our staff on boundaries which is something, in Hospice care, you always need a little tune-up on. I do find it kind of ironic that I am coming back to teach about boundaries when my health has forced me to erect one of my own these past few months in order to best take care of myself. Maybe that's the whole point of having me do this lecture my very first day back to work: who would know better than me how it feels to take a giant step back from the "fire" and just enjoy the warmth rather than be part of it!
The past two weeks of physical therapy have involved enjoying a nice manual stimulation of the foot and ankle in the office, then ending each session with learning some new range of motion exercises that I am to do at home. In the first session, I blanched when PT guy told me to point my foot up towards me (meaning in a stretch exercise). My mind said "can't do it without it feeling weird" but my foot went ahead and did it anyway. He has also had me rock the foot from side to side, around in small circles each way and, just last week, I sat on the edge of my couch with both feet on the floor and slowly pulled up my right heel (leaving the ball of the foot on the floor) ten times, and then pulled up the ball of my foot, (leaving the heel on the floor). The most exhausting one of all consists of lying on my back and putting a large pillow between my feet, then pressing in on the pillow with each foot (so the toes are aimed at the center of the pillow), holding this for ten seconds each time. It certainly has put me in touch with muscles I haven't used for a while! I have never felt any pain doing these exercises, just a very tight feeling right around the ankle, like something in there is encased in cement and needs a lot of wiggle room!
I had the ultimate frustration on Friday because Lucy had a health issue and needed to go to her doctor's, with the hope that she would be back in time to take me to physical therapy. As luck would have it, the doctor ordered her to go to the E.R. for some tests meaning I had to get a taxi both ways (to the tune of about $30.00), but that really wasn't the worst part. Because I had no way of knowing that my partner would end up in the E.R., I wasn't there to support her or just be at her side during the several hours she was there. Some friends in the area came over and sat with her, even having her sleep over at their house that evening because she was in no shape to drive. I sat her alone in my home wishing I could be with her but then, realizing later, it was probably good that I didn't go because there would have been TWO of us needing a place to crash that night, and these friends have a small apartment and, for some reason, I am more allergic there to their animal hair/dander than I am here and I always suffer for it. Still, it was just one of those times when my inability to drive and be independent left me feeling kind of sorry for myself and also for my partner having to go through something without me.
If all goes as it has been going so far, it looks like I could be back at work three weeks from tomrrow. My executive director has already gleefully slated me to do an inservice the very morning I return, to educate our staff on boundaries which is something, in Hospice care, you always need a little tune-up on. I do find it kind of ironic that I am coming back to teach about boundaries when my health has forced me to erect one of my own these past few months in order to best take care of myself. Maybe that's the whole point of having me do this lecture my very first day back to work: who would know better than me how it feels to take a giant step back from the "fire" and just enjoy the warmth rather than be part of it!
Monday, November 16, 2009
Progressing "Ahead of Schedule"
When my physical therapist told me last Thursday that, after just three sessions, he saw me as "progressing ahead of schedule", I felt like an elementary school kid who just got a gold star! Having never really made peace with my body for as long as I have been an adult, it felt nice to have a near-total stranger say that it/I had done something not only right, but "ahead of schedule". It's interesting how something a medical professional may say to dozens of people of week stands out to someone like me.
The countdown is on for when I am due to see my surgeon again (December 9th) and, if all goes well, be cleared to start working again, probably the following week. I am taking brief and careful steps around the house without the CAM boot on, but always with a crutch supporting me and it has been going just fine. Most of the time, of course, I play it straight and wear the boot whenever I am in motion and I still do wear it to bed which is always tempting to "forget" to do. What a mess it makes the covers after a night of flopping from side to side with the RoboCop Megaboot catching on everything!
Anyway, as the start of "back to my real life" gets closer, I find myself especially treasuring the time I have now to myself, to rest, to get things done I would usually put off for months, reconnect with people often and really enjoy these eight lovable creatures in my house: Angie, Jazzy, Little Girl, Winston (the lone male in the group), Gracie, Josephine, Catherine and Abby. They have all, in their own way, made this whole thing bearable and frequently let me know I am not alone. I have been so fortunate to have family and friends who keep tabs on me and a partner who puts up with idiosyncracies I let few people see. So, as we move ahead to the next chapter of walking without an assistive device and also without pain or a limp, getting back to driving again, working full-time, etc., I think I can honestly say there was a lot of good that has come out of something initially devastating. If only that could be true for everyone who goes through such an ordeal!
The countdown is on for when I am due to see my surgeon again (December 9th) and, if all goes well, be cleared to start working again, probably the following week. I am taking brief and careful steps around the house without the CAM boot on, but always with a crutch supporting me and it has been going just fine. Most of the time, of course, I play it straight and wear the boot whenever I am in motion and I still do wear it to bed which is always tempting to "forget" to do. What a mess it makes the covers after a night of flopping from side to side with the RoboCop Megaboot catching on everything!
Anyway, as the start of "back to my real life" gets closer, I find myself especially treasuring the time I have now to myself, to rest, to get things done I would usually put off for months, reconnect with people often and really enjoy these eight lovable creatures in my house: Angie, Jazzy, Little Girl, Winston (the lone male in the group), Gracie, Josephine, Catherine and Abby. They have all, in their own way, made this whole thing bearable and frequently let me know I am not alone. I have been so fortunate to have family and friends who keep tabs on me and a partner who puts up with idiosyncracies I let few people see. So, as we move ahead to the next chapter of walking without an assistive device and also without pain or a limp, getting back to driving again, working full-time, etc., I think I can honestly say there was a lot of good that has come out of something initially devastating. If only that could be true for everyone who goes through such an ordeal!
Sunday, November 8, 2009
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!
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!
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