Week Nine: “We’re off to see the wizard…”

(9 weeks post break / 8 weeks post ORIF)

This week was spent counting down the minutes until I would be freed from my cast, and placed into the boot.

So excited about the prospect of this, I even decorated my cast (using paint pens) in the cheeriest way that I could think! Bright and beautiful butterflies and flowers speckled throughout my cast, I was ready to take on the world in excitement that this was my last week in the cast!

It might be raining,
But I'm bringing my own SUNSHINE!

 This final week in my cast would also encompass my greatest mobility challenge yet:

A 3-day conference where I would be away from home, and navigating a new place around mostly strangers, all the while having to deal with my mobility aids, and all the tedious processes that go along with them.

Prior to the trip, I was fairly anxious about being able to handle the challenges that would come along with it. Partly due to the fact that everything took longer for me now than it had prior to the injury, I needed almost a whole car to carry myself and all my gadgets and gizmos, and mostly- I hated being the person that dictated every action (due to my limited ability to do some of the things that others wanted to do). We had to go somewhere where I could be driven, I would need flat and even ground to be able to navigate, and I needed an accessible location to eat at, stay in, and navigate.

I may be an incredible burden,
But at-least I don't need an umbrella...

Never before had I felt like more of a burden than I did during this conference, on my last week prior to the screw removal. What’s worse, was that the people that I was accompanied by during the conference made little effort to mask their frustration with my challenges, and the way that I needed to be accommodated during the conference. I felt utterly helpless, yet also stubbornly frustrated and extremely craving independence. I felt seemingly alone, in a sea of colleagues and acquaintances, afraid to ask for anything in fear that I would be a further inconvenience. Alas, the conference ended, and I found myself in the comfort of my own home, with my amazing husband, who had never made me feel like a burden…even though he had tended to my every need and desire over the past several weeks. I had a new found appreciation for the kind of people who truly mean it when they say: “I don’t mind helping out”.

Endlessly thankful to the friends who took me out for fieldtrips
and adventures during my recovery! <3
Also, endlessly thankful for my magical Pegleg (aka iWalk)!

Thank the orthopedic gods that I would not need to deal with this for too much longer. I do not know how I would avoid isolating myself in my home, and reverting back to being a hermit.

…

Week 9 came to an end, and I had successfully completed 8 weeks in a hard cast since my original ankle surgery. I was thrilled to be headed to the clinic to get my cast sawed off, and to be placed into the very stylish looking robotic air-cast/boot that I had been longingly staring at for months.

The buzzing of the cast saw:
Music to my ears!

After the cast removal, and the x-rays: everything seemed to be as expected- and I had healed well during my NWB period. I would have my screw removal TOMORROW, and would be able to begin weight bearing and physical therapy soon thereafter!

[Also, side-note, my healing leg looked extremely hideous, with layers of skin flaking off in sheets, and long dark hairs speckled around the incision site.]

WARNING: VERY COOL AND GROSS PHOTOS AHEAD!

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Continue Scrolling at your own risk!

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Scabs, renegade stitches, and sheets of dead skin- Oh My!
But hey, my toenails still look adorable! ;) 

Due to the fact that I had only managed to arrange a 60 second interaction with my orthopedic surgeon over the entirety of this time- I was stubborn and insistent on speaking with him prior to the screw removal. I wanted him to answer, in-person, all the questions that I had about the next steps of the recovery process (including: when I could drive, when I could begin therapy, when I would be FWB, etc.).

After a lot of persistence, my PA managed to talk the Dr. into seeing me…

…The entire situation felt as tedious as arranging a meeting with the wizard of OZ… 

...if the wizard was an extremely arrogant seeming and nonchalant character who could not wait to be done with our interaction.

Even though I felt pressured to stop pestering the doctor (therefore feeling flustered enough to not ask a majority of the questions that I had written down), I was not extremely phased- since I was just happy to have this portion of the recovery completed.

I strapped on my walking boot, and scooted out of the clinic, beaming with excitement!

Is it just me, or did I just get 150% sexier!?!? 

The PA said that I did not have to sleep in the boot- and that was probably the most exciting thing I had ever heard in my life!

My husband was too grossed out by my hideous leg
To let me sleep without this sock.
Still the best sleep I have had in countless weeks!

I got home, excited to spend a lovely and romantic evening with my bare leg, picking at the dead skin and enjoying the incredible feeling of the fresh air that softly rustled my leg hairs as I relaxed, and the warm water running down my leg as I took my first shower sans garbage bag since my surgery!

You have not lived until you have scrubbed off an impressive sheet of dead skin from your toes…