*In this post there are pictures that might upset some, cause stomach upheaval, and may not be the most awesome thing for kids to see. And feet. Lot’s of pictures of my feet. Proceed at your own risk. I’m not responsible for lost lunches or dinners…or children’s nightmares*
With that said, this is probably one of the most raw (no pun intended) posts I’ve ever made. We all like to give off the appearance that we have it all together. I personally don’t really care. The Lord has asked me to live authentically…so that means sharing, and ripping apart pretenses, and who you *think* I am, and allow you to see who I really am.
I sat in the doctors office this morning trying to not cry…unsuccessfully of course. This surgery has been…filled with gross things, like not being able to take a shower for days at a time, greasy hair and wearing clothing longer than I would like simply because I’ve nearly fallen almost every time I have to change my pants. Yeah…TMI, I know. But honestly in this time I’m really feeling the whole “safety first” and with how off balance I’ve felt since this all started, it’s such a short period of time I’ll have to endure it vs if I get hurt and have to go back in for surgery again because I re-injured something.
If you haven’t read my my last post, I’ll save you the read and re-share what happened last Saturday:
We were walking out of a restaurant and I was commenting how the wheels on my scooter get caught on everything. Seriously everything. And in that moment as I described how one wheel catches in the cracks and causes the handlebars to jam and I nearly fall; as if to demonstrate the sort of fall I was describing the wheel got stuck on the left, my left foot was toward the back of the scooter and out of place for a save the scooter then began to tilt to the right where I have no bodily support I then flew to the right over the knee pad, slammed my splinted heel on the concrete and to save myself from more injury to my expensive surgery I lifted my foot up and slammed to the ground on my back and my head followed suit. I just sort of laid there as people flocked out of the restaurant towards me, my dad (who is hard of hearing) walked a few more paces before realizing I was no longer speaking.
I was concerned, but not overly so. Until a few days ago when I decided to unwrap my ankle.
So here is what I was dealing with to start with:
Since I can remember I’ve not been able to wear proper shoes, I’ve never been able to wear workout shoes or tennis shoes that weren’t Converse, I couldn’t wear those cute heels with the ankle cuff or the buckle. Boots…I love boots but in the years between the pair I had in junior high and the present, the mass had grown to a point where finding boots was nearly impossible. I’m happy to report that in the last 2 years I was able to find a black and a brown pair that would fit my ginormous calf muscles as well as Quasimodo. Yeah…I may have named it. It’s been embarrassing to me and it does catch peoples attention…at least it did. This has caused me to be much less physically active than I want to be, it has limited me in many ways and I knew the Lord was telling me it was transformation time, in order to do so this thing from my past needed to die. He said to me, “What I have done on the inside must also manifest on the outside.” So here we are.
A week post-op…someone said it looked like a cadaver foot lol. So this was 2 days before the fateful fall you read about above.
When I initially fell, I struggled with nerve pain in the top of my foot and big toe and since have realized that I have ice burns, and every time I put ice on, inside 5 minutes it feels like my foot swells and like lightning is shooting off inside of it. This is even through like 5 layers of fabric. Crutches are hard. I have them at the top of my stairs so I can get to and from my bedroom. I knew it would be hard, but no one mentioned the use and strain the rest of your muscles on the other side would experience. I have a friend who calls herself a flamingo after she lost one of her legs just below the knee and I can COMPLETELY relate to that. The other muscles on the left side of my body have had to compensate extra for balance, I’ve nearly toppled over on crutches a few times by high centering…I killed my ironing board that way. I was sliding on my hardwood flooring in my flip flop while on crutches as I continued to fall over and had nothing but my ironing board to catch my fall. I leaned on it as it slowly bent closer to the ground and I finally shouted to my dad to come help me. Needless to say it went out with the trash on Monday.
I finally decided on Tuesday evening that I was going to unwrap it. The splint was bothering the side of my ankle and I wasn’t certain on the placement of the stitches so I wanted to see how close in proximity they were. When I sat down and unwrapped, that’s what I saw. I was now concerned. Every twitch and twinge, throb, every electrifying feeling fleeting through my foot gave me anxiety. I know, we aren’t supposed to be anxious for anything, but…ya know?? I text messaged my doctor, the nurse wrote the wrong number on the paper. I called the office Wednesday morning telling the girl over the phone what had happened only to get a call back confirming my appointment for this morning.
I get in the doctors office and I tell the story. She unwraps it and my eyes start tearing up, my heart concerned by the possibility that I may have damaged what had been done. She got me over to the x-ray machine and took some pictures and sat me back down in my room. That catch in my throat and chest just sat there. Being a single mom is SO HARD! I’ve been so grateful for the help of my dad since he came, but in 10 days I won’t have him anymore and the thought of having to start over was terrifying. The doctor comes in and the look on his face is of grave concern as I can’t help but cry retelling my fall. He begins to tell me that he believes it will all be okay. No cast, he drains the blood blister and then explains where he actually did the tendon repair…it wasn’t just any tear on a random tendon, it was my Achilles tendon. He said it was far worse than he originally anticipated. The scary part to me is, I had no idea. I had tolerated and forgotten the pain for so long that I didn’t even realize I was in pain until my my second appointment with him when he looked at my MRI scans and asked me if I was sure I wasn’t in pain.
Look at those frankfurters lol, my toes look like tiny Vienna Sausages…
The Lord told me that this is the start of my new beginning, and that there are many more facets to it than I think, like a diamond that sparkles and shines and has many facets, it enables it to take in more light and shine it in more directions. I don’t feel very shiny right now, but thank God it’s not all based on how I feel. Today has been a pretty emotional day for me. The tears I cry now are ones of gratitude.
The really gross picture below is the mass that the doctor removed from my ankle on the day of surgery. He was pretty amazed at how big it was. I’m just grateful it’s a part of my past now, and is not allowed to step into my future. I do however recognize that the surgery was very connected spiritually. It was meant to repair the tendon, so that my walk with the Lord will be fully healed and unhindered, and the mass removed so that I spiritually can “run my race” when before I couldn’t even wear a pair of running shoes.
So, sometime after Christmas I’ll be fully walking again. And that is the greatest gift ever.
But a pair of running shoes might be a close second 😉