A "step" in the right direction

I have moved into the next phase of recovery. About 2 weeks ago, I was finally released to begin minimum weight bearing. I am now in an e-boot, still on crutches. I continue to learn more about me, more about how I want to approach my life, more about where I choose to expend energy.

These past 2 months I have experienced some significant challenges in finding ways to keep my spirit up. 2 years ago, I thought the most difficult issue I would face was in figuring out how to take a short break from playing soccer to allow an ankle sprain to heal.

A year after that, we began to question if I would ever play soccer again. I had to face the option of this surgery. Of course, in May, the decision made, I thought my greatest challenge would be in the 3-6 weeks immediately following the surgery.

Here it is, over 4 months later, and I am still not walking unassisted. The latest x-ray revealed excellent healing of the bone. But now, my energy is focused on chronic nerve pain in my foot. I had no idea this side effect was even an option.

I had read and studied. I am incredibly well versed in the anatomy of the ankle, issues with tendons, the possible negative outcomes of a talonavicular fusion. No where I had read about nerve damage.

And so it goes. I spend about an hour a day inflicting incredibly painful therapy on myself as we attempt to retrain my nerve. It looks like I really will never play soccer again. My goal really has become to walk without an aid - maybe even wear a shoe.

I was asked yesterday how I am dealing with the emotions. It was in answering her that I heard my own answer -
I remind myself every day that I am blessed. I have an amazing life, I have my health, love, a partner who loves me, family who stands by me, a home, a job I love, and I laugh, every single day.
I remind myself that there are always people on this planet who have it much worse than I do.
I say please - to the Power I believe in - every morning.
I say thank you, every night (ok, I am not as consistent on those last two as I would like, but I give it a shot).

And, I keep taking 1 more step.

A plethora of mobility devices

It has now been 7 weeks. A very long time with limited mobility. As is typical for me, I have surrounded myself with options - and accessories.

For my trip home from the hospital, I rented a wheelchair. I haven't been back in it since that day. My challenges in connecting with the rental company to come pick it up seem to be daily annoying phone calls - all of which are answered by someone who seems to be unable to transfer me to whomever I need to talk to without disconnecting me.

Now, let's talk crutches (my least favorite but useful when I gather the strength to go up and down the stairs). I remember 2 years ago when I had to be on crutches for weeks on end. The soreness of under arms, achy wrists and hands, severe limitations in what I would carry. Pads don't help nearly as much as the advertisers would want you to believe. The upside of crutches is that it does enable me to go downstairs on occasion and is helping me build my triceps.

I also have a walker. This has been quite an amazing discovery for me. I don't know why they ever make a patient use crutches (other than the aforementioned stairs). A walker is more stable, easier on my arms, and with different accessories, allows me to carry books, cell phone, water bottle.

But, my absolute favorite is my Voyager scooter purchased from www.goodbyecrutches.com. A not-so-comfortable bicycle style seat, a foot peg for my casted appendage, a basket for books, food, keys and cell phone. I load it up and I am on my way. I can push myself down the hall faster than my friends can walk. I am able to go across the street and sit in the park, I can put my scooter in my car and get around. Granted, curbs are the challenge of my existence.

I have asked several times if I could have a motor for my scooter. Yea, my fiance won't go for that. I do think I need a horn and a cup-holder though!

Perhaps that it goes without saying, but I am looking forward to the day when my mobility device is my own two feet. I am grateful for the lessons I am learning - slow down, ask for help, be patient.

I continue to remind myself that "this too shall pass"; that I am healing at the rate that my body is healing and the best I can do is keep my spirit up, laugh every day, be my goofy self regardless of how I am getting around.

Dreams of a shower

It has been a number of years since taking care of my own personal hygeine was something I took for granted. But now, with my foot in this lovely green monstrocity, only able to tolerate having it below my heart for about 5 minutes, standing up long enough to wash my face and brush my teeth is about all I can handle.

I long for a long hot shower.

Granted, I grew up in the era of water rationing. We washed our car on the lawn to conserve water. We learned more and more about landscaping that is best for our area. We turned the water off and on when brushing our teeth.

But today, I long for a shower. You know the kind. The kind you take in hotels because you know they will not run out of hot water. I want to stand on my own two feet and feel the water beat on me. There is little in life that is more relaxing than that. All of the stress, all of the burdens, all of the cares in the world, for a period of time, wash off my body and down the drain.

Alas, for now I am stuck with what... A blue specially made non-latex bag that goes over my cast. I sit sideways on a Rubbermaid step stool, balancing my bad leg outside the shower/tub, hold our newly installed hand held shower head and get it done as quickly as possible.

Ahh, but someday. Someday.

A shower. A long, hot, steamy, shower.

A day without Percocet

As I approach another week of healing, I have the opportunity to experience another milestone. Yesterday, just shy of 4 weeks, Tylenol was the strongest medication I took.

My surgeon shared that the nerve pain would improve with time; there were certainly days I was not convinced.

This truly feels like a milestone. I have more confidence. There are moments I feel hopeful about my overall recovery.

I know this process has been, and will be, a long, slow recovery. I also know this recovery is not just physical, I know it is mental, emotional, spiritual.

For today, I will celebrate yesterday's lack of Percocet and see what happens next.


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Courage to Continue

“Success is not final, failure is not fatal: It is the courage to continue that counts.” ― Winston Churchill”

This quote reminds me of times my mom would send us out to play. The sport might have been soccer or softball, field hockey or basketball; her wish for us was always the same.

There was a bit of joy and playfulness in her, "Go,have fun, play hard, get dirty".

Even as a little kid, I knew it was cool to have a mom who knew that having fun, doing my best, and getting dirty was what made the game a winner. No doubt, I was still very competative. But it was just perfect that I would be asked if I had fun and got dirty.

Today I continue in this journey of recovery. Yesterday was, by far, on of the most difficult days I have. I am experiencing an incredible amount of nerve pain. The top of my foot is so sensitive that even the slightest touch has me in tears.

Yesterday was the first follow up. I got my first glimpse of Frankin-Foot. The removal of my stiches from 3 incision sites was excruciating. I kept breathing. I kept believing.

The next step was to go from a plaster splint and ace badage (allowing the top of my foot to breath) to a full hard cast. The pain was awful.

There was no relief from the nerve pain, there was constant pressure. It is as if ice cold knives would not stop cutting me.

Today is better. The swelling has subsided a bit, relieving the pain on the top of my foot. I will listen to Winston Churchill, and remember that it is the courage to continue that matters.

I hold on to lessons from my mom; knowing that my spirit is lighter when I find something to enjoy.

I keep breathing. I keep believing.




- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Moments of Normal

Today is a good day. What makes today as wonderful as it is? It is just a day. The process of acclimation has been such a challenge.

I have spent hours feeling, injured and ill. There have been entire days when I was only capable of feeling overwhemed.

But, today, just feels like a day. We woke up, had breakfast. We went outside and enjoyed some sunshine. We have relaxed with a movie.

I just looked her in the eye and said, "I don't feel bad right now; and that feels great".

I have done my physical therapy, will continue to work on my mobility. The pain will return, I know.

But now, right now, I just feel like me.

I am so grateful.


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Adventures to the Fire Pit

The weather is warming up, that makes it more of a challenge to get outside. I realize it has not yet been 3 weeks, but there are times that I start feeling incredibly claustrophobic. I miss being outside, I miss sitting in the sun, feeling the warmth on my skin, the breeze in my hair.

I am so lucky that friends and family who have been taking care of me will help me get outdoors, even if only for 5 minutes. I have a little scooter that I can self-propel and away I go; leg propped up, pushing my self along, water bottle in the basket. I am not getting anywhere quickly, but I am getting somewhere.

Today was even more of an adventure; the distance to the fire pit is at least twice that from the distance to the courtyard near our loft.

Amazing that any little change in scenery helps my spirit; so my sister and I headed to the fire pit. Down the elevator, through the hallway, out the door and there we were. We quickly discovered that the only way I was actually comfortable was to lay flat on my back with my leg propped up.

Wow. It was as if I could breath, just breath. To lay on my back, watch the clouds go by, listen to the trains and planes. Wonderful, just wonderful

I now have a second place I can go when I need to get out of the house, how fabulously exciting!

Long night, early morning, slow improvements

Physical Therapy yesterday, while exciting and I felt very accomplished, pushed me over my limit a bit. Last night was the first time since the original injury that I was in tears from the pain. The words to describe what it was like last night won't do it justice, and nothing good will come from trying to figure out how to put it all in words.

Let's just say awful.

Perhaps one good thing about being 45 and a life long athlete is that I know and trust that all things will pass. I knew that I was not going to be in pain forever, that eventually it would subside and, slowly it would get better.

Eventually I slept, woke at 4:00 and laid quietly, enjoying the fact that my pain level was closer to a 3 than a 7.

Today I realized that this is the last week with having someone around all of the time. We had planned for 3 weeks of care, I need to start experimenting with what I can do for myself. I am so grateful for friends and family who have been able to arrange their lives and schedules to be here.

For now, I will do little things, take deep breaths, remember to have faith in my body and spirit and keep an eye on the prize.

Swing and miss

So today I tried to get fully off the narcotic pain medications. There are a couple of reasons this is important; first, I have just over 25 years of recovery and am petrified about relapsing; and, second I have a severe sensitivity to these medications.

What this means for me is, I have to have a patch and a pill just in order to be able to take these medications.

Well, not only do I struggle with opioids, I also cannot take aspirin or any anti-inflammatories as those slow down bone healing.

A little over 24 hours of just Tylenol and I give. Uncle! Uncle! Uncle!

A new patch, another pill and Percocet.

Now, tender tummy, laying down, not sure how I am going to feel for the rest of the day.

Pain level - 2
Nausea level - 4

Spirit - hanging in there.


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

12 days post surgery - another small step

I decided to start a blog. We will all see how consistent I am with this. My goal in starting this blog is to document my recovery from ankle fusion (talonavicular fusion to be more specific) surgery.

Let's put this in perspective. I am a life long athlete. As a 45 year old woman, these past few years are my first since I was 7 to go any length of time not playing a team sport. It was June 8, 2008, that my life as an athlete dramatically changed.

It went something like this - I was in goal, their star striker got behind my defense and was tearing down the left side on a breakaway. I came hard off my line, she cut hard, I cut hard, step in a hole and knew that something bad had just happened.

I saved the goal, made my way through the remainder of the half and hobbled off the field. We were already playing short, I decided it couldn't be that bad; tons of tape around the cleat and I was back out on the field. The final score was 3-2 (we lost); all in all, I felt good about my game.

It was a rush to get to a drug store, find some sort of ankle brace, get home, clean up and get to SF. This was the night of my first date with my now fiance.

No need to do a detailed history of all that has occurred in these last 2 years. The outcome is, torn ligaments and tendon. Eventual diagnosis of damage to the cartilage and bone. Two years of physical therapy, casts, braces, varying levels of weight bearing and finally surgery.

I am done with playing soccer, probably done with most other team sports. Sometimes I don't know what is left for me. For now, resting, elevating, icing, using a walker.

I will keep my spirit up, try to be a good patient, do my exercises and stay creative in figuring out what is next.

And, I will keep writing.