Week Five: "Just 2 more weeks until the rest of my life!"

After a few days of getting used to all of my assorted contraptions, I started to get more and more efficient.

Ankle Surgery Survival Kit:
Including the cutting edge new
beverage carrying apparatus
(AKA duct tape, and plastic cups)

I’m not sure if it was the fact that I had just over 2 weeks left, or the fact that I felt much more independent at home. Making myself a sandwich was no longer my arch nemesis now. I could shower BY MY SELF. Being able to do something as trivial as that allowed me to feel human again. This made me want to interact with other humans.

Testing out my scooter on an
off-road adventure
(AKA Outdoor Flea Market)

And best of all: I did not fear leaving my 2^nd floor apartment because my iWalk made climbing and descending stairs so much easier. No longer would I have to do those dreaded single legged jump squats to get up and down the stairs. I started to have more confidence in myself, and the fact that I could think of something other than the crippling fear of falling in public, or messing something up on my healing ankle, or being unable to navigate the obstacle course of life on one leg and wheels.

Climbing up stairs like a BOSS PIRATE.

The iWalk 2.0 was a really worthwhile purchase for me. After spending over a week watching and re-watching Youtube videos, reading tips, and practicing every day: I felt comfortable enough to venture out of the apartment and travel to an unfamiliar location without having my husband to lean on (both figuratively, and literally). I was very relieved about this, because I felt the pressure to do well with the device. It felt as though I had no choice but to master it.

Not doing flips yet...
...Still awaiting the POGO attachment.

I would like to reiterate the fact that there was a steep learning curve associated with the device, and in combination with the feeling of unsteadiness, fragility, and fear: it did feel like an impossible feat to master. But, after about 6-7 days of practice, I was able to fare much better on the device. That being said, from what I have read; people either love it or hate it. Myself, I was the former, but I strongly recommend that you also do your research to ensure that this would work for you.

  

Hey! Check it out! I almost look like a
productive member of society!
(Almost...)

…

As we were nearing the end of 4 weeks post ORIF, my ankle did not feel very swollen, and the pain was minimal (at most). It only manifested itself if I accidentally bumped my cast into something, if I had to put my foot down, or if I was standing up too long without taking a break to elevate my ankle.

I would have my 4 week post-op appointment soon, and I would get to choose the colors of my LAST CAST (because the doctor said 6-8 weeks, and I was certainly not going to need the extra two weeks).

I could see the light at the end of my fiberglass tunnel. If it wasn’t for the constant itching, the need to wear a garbage bag over my leg to shower, and the fact that none of my favorite pants fit over my right leg- I could have almost forgotten that I was a bionic, wheeling, peg-legged wonder woman.

As I felt stronger, I also began feeling more hindered by the cast. I became frustrated by it. I could not wait to see my feet again, and wear TWO shoes. I wanted to be able to moisturize the underside of my foot- which actually had deep cracks developing on the surface of the skin as a result to the dryness, and the inability to apply anything within the cast (due to a healing incision).

But hey, no big deal: I would be out of a cast in just a couple of weeks, and could resume my life on my own two feet.

…

The following morning I went to my 4 week post-surgical follow-up appointment, and they sawed Wonder Woman off my leg. It was a wonderful sensation, and I was excited to finally be seeing some healing progress at the incision site, and something that resembled an actual ankle, as opposed to a cantaloupe stuffed into a sock. Seeing that the swelling had gone down significantly, with the x-rays that confirmed everything was healing in place- I was on top of the world.

Cracking open Wonder Woman!

Just two more weeks to go, and I would be able to feel the breeze billowing through my long flowing leg hairs…

The PA (Physician’s Assistant) came in, and I beamed with excitement as I told him how everything was healing. He agreed that I was doing well in taking care of my ankle, everything was healing correctly (according to the X-rays), and the joint itself looked really healthy. He said that I was the ‘ideal patient’ and since I was ‘young and healthy’, the recovery would be fairly straight-forward.

And then he said it.

Leg hair: 10/10
Chaco tan: 10/10
Surgical Markings: 10/10
FLAWLESS!

“Stay strong, and keep up the good work…”

“…you’re half way there! Just 4 more weeks!”

This was the point where I began probing into what his reasoning might be for this. And despite all his attempts to justify it, his attitude and approach seemed very nonchalant and extremely conservative with the treatment plan. He simply stated “it takes bones a long time to heal”. This was a very frustrating and defeating day. I felt as though he was not considering my strength, experience, history, determination, and my age (something that HE brought up several times, not me). I was furious.

8 weeks in a hard cast, followed by a few weeks in a boot for a standard Lateral Malleolus ORIF repair?

Why couldn’t I be like all those people in Youtube videos and Instagram?
The ones who are fully weight-bearing 6 weeks after the same surgery?
The ones who return to hiking and backpacking within 3 months.

Like I said: I was furious.

So, sitting in the exam room with the nurse, I just stared at my scooter.
“What are you going to replace Wonder Woman with?” she asked.

I had to obviously come up with something just as inspired. But I did not feel up to making everyone else feel better about MY situation. I was tired of trying to put a positive spin on the injury- to appease society. I was angry and grumpy. I was still going to tackle this situation like the badass tough chick I knew I was.

But with a twist...

Watch out, Poor Unfortunate Souls.

Here I come.