Frustrations

K, so, always, ALWAYS when I post about how great my foot is feeling, I end up putting my foot in my mouth!  That was a metaphor.  

I'm feeling emotional and frustrated, so boom, blog post!

Monday was my first day back from holiday vacation and the first time I was walking around the office boot free.  I work in a building that has 25 acres of property and is 395,000 square feet.  It is a BIG jump from walking around the house, to walking around this gigantic building.  The walk from the parking lot to my desk is at least a 10 minute hoof, and I no longer have my handicap pass.  It was about 20 degrees on Monday morning walking in.  I was trying to walk as fast as I could to get inside the building as quickly as possible, but my "fast" walk is a meager saunter by normal standards.  So, that was really frustrating.  My mind wanted to go faster, my body was trying to push me faster, but my foot wouldn't cooperate.  People were passing me left and right, and going around me, and I just felt defeated.  Then I make my way to the elevator, cram in with 8 different people, and I'm the only one going to the 2nd floor.  I know people are thinking that I'm lazy and should just take the stairs, mostly by people's reaction when we have to make a stop at 2.  So I do my little walk hobble of shame to my desk, exhausted.  I finally get to start my work day!  But everything seems so......far.  Going to the bathroom, running back and forth between meetings, going to the gym, getting lunch and coffee from the cafeteria, then the walk back out to the car.  I got about 7,000 steps according to my fitness tracker.

The foot felt fine yesterday, and last night, pain free.  I was just mainly frustrated because it takes a long time to get from point A to point B, but Rome wasn't built in a day and neither are shattered navicular bones.  Then, I woke up this morning.  I usually have soreness and stiffness when I first wake up, but I was really sore.  And it didn't really go away after I walked around and got ready for work.  Nate told me that I should wear the boot to work, but, I'm viciously stubborn and there was no way that I was doing that.  He was sweet, despite my stubbornness, and dropped me off at the front door of my office so I only had to walk part of the way.  Despite the violent protesting that occurred inside our vehicle about him doing so.

I thought finally walking would be the cure for everything.  It isn't.  Yes, I'm walking around in shoes (well just the one pair that I can so it does offer some interesting fashion choices...whatever..) and I'm so so so so happy about that.  But on the other hand, I'm still a long way off from being 100% again, or at least close enough.  I injured myself over 5 months ago.  I spent 115 days not walking at all.  I started walking with 25% of my weight in October with a boot in crutches.  I weaned to 1 crutch after 3 weeks, then just the boot for 3 more.  I'm finally out of the boot, but how much longer is this recovery going to take?  It feels so long.  Never ending.  There was always a milestone to look forward to:  getting my splint off and into a cast, out of the cast and into the boot, removal of my pins, weight bearing with crutches, no crutches, weaning out of the boot, walking in shoes.  Now, there's just one more milestone left and that is the surgery to remove my screws.  Granted, they've been causing me a lot of pain, and I'm optimistic that my pain and walking will improve once they are gone.  I also will be slapped back into the book for a few weeks after surgery, and that feels like a set back.  But, after the screws are gone, then what?  What's the next milestone to look forward to?  When will my limp go away? When is it going to be as good as it gets?

A Case of the Sads

This week has actually been kind of rough!  On Monday, I got my cast off, and I was so excited!

FREEDOM!

Now, I'm in my boot.  The doctor says I should wear my boot 23 out of 24 hours, so I get 1 hour total during the day to shower, do my stretching exercises and give my foot a break.  One thing I did not expect was how upsetting it would be to look at my leg/foot.  I've lost so much muscle, it looks like a little chicken leg.  I've tried taking pictures of it but it just doesn't do it justice.  It brings me to tears to look at it!  The fugliness doesn't bother me - my foot can be ugly forever; I don't care about that.  I try to do my stretching exercises and it takes a lot of effort to get my foot flexed into the neutral position.  Its such a simple move that is so hard to do.  Not to mention it hurts trying to get it there!  It just makes me think how painful physical therapy is going to be, and learning to walk again.  My navicular got totally f*cked in the accident, so I'm supposed to be mainly focusing on pointing and flexing my foot, and not so much side to side motion because it'll put too much stress on my navicular bone.  It is in a delicate condition.  The doctor also told me that before surgery, they were concerned about my navicular bone dying.  Blood flow can apparently get cut off to that bone when it is injured, and it can die if the injury is severe enough.  But, mine has pulled through..... phew.

(took a short video of my range of motion, or lack thereof)

Speaking of, I did make an appointment with the Lisfranc specialist next week, so I'll see what she has to say about recovery and how far I should be pushing it.

I did not get cleared to swim, either, and that's what I really was hoping for this time!  The doctor is concerned about any weight at all on the foot, even in the water.  And I can't immerse my foot in water with the incisions still scabbed over, so no hot tubs or baths for me still!  I'm so sad because about a week before my injury I bought about 10 different bath bombs from Lush that I have not been able to use.  Bathing is one of my most favorite things to do.   Bathing with a cocktail or a glass of my home-brewed beer is even better!

My husband is also in New York, and I miss him!  Normally he'd be here to cheer me up or talk some sense into me so that I snap out of the funk.  But we have both been so busy with work, our schedules are not lining up so we haven't had a chance to talk much, and no Skyping.    He is sad that I shaved my leg though, because he wanted to "pet it"...which made me laugh.  He gets back on Friday morning though so I don't have too long to wait!

(picture from his hotel, looking at the WTC)

Mom has been taking great care of me while he has been gone.  She has helped me cook, clean, take care of the animals, and tend to the garden. She has also been my source of entertainment. It has been really nice having her around!  

I'm also doing the Color Run this weekend, as long as I can secure my wheelchair situation.  I have some friends and family doing the race and I am not about to miss out just because I've got a broken foot!

(boot shot!)

Acceptance

I'm 5 weeks post-op today.  

As I reflect today, breaking my foot has in a lot of ways triggered the 5 stages of grief.  I'm not being disrespectful to anyone who has lost a loved one, but I feel like I've gone through the emotional journey since losing a part of myself.  A part of who I was.  And finally, I've come to the stage where I am accepting my injury and what it is going to mean for me.

I was in denial at first - surely this can't be as bad as the doctor is making it seem, as the internet is making it seem?  I'll heal up quick and be back to my old self in a few weeks!

Then that progressed to anger as reality set in.  Why did this happen to me?  What did I do to deserve this?  Why was I in the wrong place at the wrong time?  I felt envious of people that can just walk around, and how much they take that fore granted.  I got so angry at people when I was out in public and someone would dart in front of me because they didn't want to be stuck behind slow scooter girl. And, as we all know, anger leads to the dark side.

Then came the bargaining.  I was essentially lost in my own maze of What If and If Only.  What if I hadn't been so soaked in mud before my injury, would I have slipped?  What if I'd taken my gloves off before trying to climb the wall?  If only I had pushed myself harder during the race, maybe I would have hit the obstacle earlier in the day, and wouldn't have slipped.  What if I chose to climb on a different side that wasn't so muddy?  If only I would have caught myself!

That of course did no good, so depression set in.  I started focusing on all the things that I couldn't do.  Besides the obvious... walking and being independent... I couldn't continue with my normal routines of life.  Not only was I limited in what I could do in my workouts, but I was limited to what I could do in life.  No hikes, or walks along the trails by my house with my dog.  It's a huge event to try and do anything outside of the house, and I have to research whether or not the places I'm going are handicapped accessible. Festivals like Swiss Days, Greekfest, ComicCon and Oktoberfest are out of the question since I can't navigate the terrain or the crowds on my scooter.  It was hard enough doing that walking!  The first half of the Utah Utes Football games are out, since my seats are 45 rows up, and that was my fall passion...going to games.

And now finally, I've come to acceptance.  It hit me last night.  It is what it is.  This is how my life if for now.  I'm done thinking about what could have been or what I'd be doing now if I hadn't broken my foot.  I'm embracing this new and challenging stage in my life with open arms.  Trumpy (scooter) feels like a part of me, he feels like my right leg.  It's no longer awkward for me to get up and scoot around; it feels just like walking.  I don't care about the stares I get when I'm out in public, when I know people are thinking, "What happened to her?  Poor girl."  or "That scooter looks so stupid."  Zero F*cks Given!  If people feel the need to cut in front of me, go ahead.

I'm not religious, or even spiritual, but I feel like this is a test of my internal feats of strength.  Festivus for the soul!  A test that I either will pass, or fail.  But failing is not an option; I don't know how to fail.  I think maybe that this was something that I needed to experience.  A test of self.

It will get better.  Every day, it will get better.  I think of how much worse it could have been.  I may not have been able to walk away from this injury.  I'm lucky that it is only temporary, as for some people, this type of life is not.  Hell, before modern medicine, the solution for this type of injury was amputation.  I absolutely have a new found respect and appreciation for someone who is disabled, in any sort of way.  Not that I didn't before (I never cut in front of a disabled person at the grocery thank you very much!) but, it is even more so now.  I will not give up.  I can only get stronger.

.... but I am not yet a Jedi.

Pink Cast Blues

Let me start off by saying that I've never broken a bone before, so I've never had a cast. 

But, I'm really sick of my cast!

It taxes my gig.

1) Casts are gross!  I never really thought about what having your leg encased in something for a month will do.  Nate swears that he isn't able to smell anything, but I think it smells totally funky.  Sometimes, it is the only thing that I can smell, especially when I just get done taking a shower.  So I find myself dousing my entire cast with Bath & Body Works sprays, usually Tahiti Dream  or Bourbon Vanilla Strawberry.  I'm constantly worried about it.  But then again, I am sensitive to smells in general.  One day, if you want a real treat, ask me about the worst smell on the planet:  outside smell.  You can only smell outside smell inside.  Cold outside smell is worse than warm outside smell.  If outside smell gets on anything, it either must be washed or replaced.  Or, I will gag, uncontrollably.  Outside smell is a real, horrible thing.  My logic is undeniable.

2) Shaving! I have to shave every day.  If I don't, I am unable to sleep and I just think about the unshaven hair.  The fact that I cannot shave my right leg from the knee down drives me bonkers.  Leg hair... yuck!!  Each day, my cast gets looser and looser.  So, each time I shower, I see how far down I can get the razor.   Probably not the best idea I've had.  But, if I can see the hair, it must be shaved.

3) Skin issues!  Apparently your epidermis is constantly shedding skin.  Normally, this dead skin gets removed through your regular hygiene regimen or through natural friction (from clothes, bed sheets etc.)  Well, when you have a cast, there is no place for the dead skin to go so it just sits there and collects.  And I can see it.  And if I can see it, it MUST.  BE.  CLEANSED!  I've found that I'm pretty obsessive about it.  Like OCD obsessive.

4)  It's hard!  Yes, I know that is the whole point of a hard cast.  But this sucker is solid.  So solid, that I have had a pretty good bruise line for almost a solid month now of where my cast rests against my leg when I use Trumpy.  Nothing compares to the bruises I got after Spartan though. I did take pictures of them - I'm morbid like that.  This is my "good" leg:

As much as I hate my cast, it is doing it's job.  *grumble*  On the way in to work Wednesday, I got a little more daring with my need for independence and decided to try and hop to the car with my work backpack on instead of having Nate carry it for me.  It had my laptop, chargers, tennis shoe and gym clothes (for working out) so it was a bit meaty in weight.  When I got to the car door, I tipped backwards a bit lost my balance, and 31+ years of instinct kicked in and I slammed my right foot down on the garage floor to steady myself.  Mistake!  I was in so much pain, I started sweating, and seeing spots, thought I was going to pass out!  Nate came over and got the backpack and got me settled in to the car.  I thought I was going to puke.  But, after about 10 minutes, the intense pain subsided and turned into just a dull ache.  My foot was like, "Something bad happened to me!  I'm going to sulk ALL day! :("  I immediately thought I'd done some damage to my surgery site, but then I realized that is what the CAST is for. It's sole purpose is to PROTECT me, not make me miserable.  I was fine the next morning, and actually noticed I am having more feelings in my foot than normal.  I was loading dishes last night, and my toe started itching!  I hadn't experienced a toe itch since my initial injury.  I was so excited about it, I called Nate over to show him.  But I couldn't really show him.  Even though it is a crappy feeling, it is a feeling!

So even though I hate you, thank you, cast.

I Miss Sleep

Sleeping used to be one of my favorite activities before my LisFranc injury.

Now, I kind of dread it.

I have the hardest time getting comfortable at night.  My incisions will start to itch randomly, or bump up against the side of my fiberglass cast and cause an uncomfortable sensation.  Or, I'll get a visit from the little gremlin that lives inside my cast, and he will randomly stab my foot with a knife, or a searing hot poker, or a taser.  Whatever he can find.

I have a pillow fort set up, that encases me in a wall of softness.  This helps will my comfort level, because I can rest my elbow or knee on the pillows and take some pressure off because my foot demands to be elevated at all times.  But, it also closes me off from my husband, so I kind of feel like I'm in cuddle jail.  I miss snuggling with my nice, warm, husband and drifting off to Hawaii Dreamland.

I'm a side sleeper, and sometimes I can contort my body into a position that will allow me to somewhat sleep on my side, still have my foot elevated, and not have too much pressure on my incisions.  But, it's like getting all 9 (that's right, 9, I got your back, Pluto) planets to align.

I still can't stand the sensation of a blanket on my exposed toes, so I have to stick my foot out of the covers.  That drives me insane, because ever since I was a little girl, I have hated to have any body part hanging out of the covers.  Because monsters will get them.  So I lay there, staring at the ceiling in the dark, imagining all of the horrible creatures lurking unseen in my bedroom looking for a midnight snack.

I used to be able to read for an hour or so, and that would make me nice and comfy and sleepy.  I could probably read all night now without getting tired.  Even on work nights, I am staying up well past midnight still reading my novels.  Then finally turning my Nook off, and tossing and turning for what seems like days.  Then my cat decides she wants to cuddle with me, so she comes and lays on my chest and belly.  And she'll sit there purring, softly nuzzling my face, pawing at me with her adorable little paws, drifting off to her own Hawaii Dreamland.  I suppose it's more like Tuna Dreamland or Treats Island.  Of course I can't move or disturb her once she's fallen asleep - that would be rude.  Eventually she leaves to go bully our other cat for her nightly capers.  I hear him being tackled and screaming like a little girl.  I chuckle and can focus on getting comfortable again.

I have tried different sleeping techniques, breathing exercises, and playing around with the settings on the Tempurpedic to induce that lovely feeling of being tired.  To no avail.  Don't get me wrong, I can take a sleeping pill, or a Melatonin, or a Klonopin, and that'll do the trick right quick.  But, I want natural sleep!

I have to remind myself that this is only temporary!  It's been 3.5 weeks since surgery.  Only 8.5 more weeks being in a cast or boot.  Then... it's all about Hawaii Dreamland.

Ready to Work! Kind of.

This week, I started going back to work.

I say kind of, because I've spent the week telecommuting, working virtual, being remote, whatever you'd like to call it.  I feel lucky that I have the flexibility in my job to do that.  I'd say that I have an awesome, understanding boss, but while I was out on medical leave she abandoned me for another position.  So now she's just a good friend. :)  I got the news that she was leaving at a really bad time in my recovery (emotionally) so I spent the whole day crying about it.  I look back now and blame that on the drugs and the after-effects of the anesthesia.  I've read on the internets and from fellow bloggers that it can really mess with your emotions those first couple of weeks, and that is NO lie. 

But, the rest of my team has been really understanding of my situation and I am grateful for that!  I went back to work on Monday morning, and as soon as I logged in online on my work laptop, I was flooded with IM messages from my team mates welcoming me back and sending good words of encouragement, wanting to catch up, and just wanting to chat with their co-worker that has been missing for a month.  It felt so good to here from them again.  The majority of my team is based in Phoenix (I'm in Salt Lake City) so it's kind of a bummer that I won't be able to see their faces when I am able to return to the office.

I hope that it's soon.  I've been trying to take every opportunity to get out of the house when I can, even if it's just a car ride with the husband to fill up gas in the car.  I start to have anxiety attacks about what awaits me when I do return to the office.  I've never thought about how handicapped accessible the building is and how well my scooter will work.  Can I get to my desk and into my office chair without assistance?  How am I going to elevate my foot during the day?  It gets very painful, swollen and turns purple if it hangs down like a normal foot.  How am I going to stay comfortable for 8 hours a day?  Are both my scooter and I able to fit inside conference rooms for meetings?  How do I stay comfortable with minimal pain when I have long meetings?  Will my scooter fit in the bathroom?  Is it going to be a pain using the toilet?  What if someone is in the handicapped stall when I need to go?  I'll just have to sit and wait around?  How do I carry stuff from the lunch room, like a hot cup of coffee or bowl of soup?  Are my co-workers going to get sick of me asking for help with normal, everyday tasks that people should be able to do on their own?  I guess I'll figure that out as I make the eventual trip into the office.  It may not be as bad as my anxiety is making it out to be.

I really am trying to stay positive otherwise.  I've been making it down to my basement gym every other day to activate my beastmode and bust out some workouts.  But, I've found myself getting kind of bored with my exercises.  All I can really do is upperbody and core.  I tried to do some knee squats, and my right quad is SOOOO weak!  Nate told me that my right leg is looking rather wimpy.   I think it is too. It's hard to absorb because right before Spartan, I was deadlifting/squatting 100+ lbs.  I'm trying to get creative with my workouts and keep it interesting, but I haven't quite figured out how to do cardio with my home gym.

Bleh.

I am hoping that once my cast comes off, I'll be free to do a little bit more, like biking or swimming!

All in all, going back to work was a good thing.  I'm absolutely swamped with work and playing catch up, so it keeps my mind occupied, and off this whole pity-party-I-only-have-one-leg scenario that plays over and over in my head.