Quit Your Whining

This is the "before" picture with Dr. Scott. Not bad. Still smiling. I should have waited until he was all in his scrubs and goofy doctor hat to take the picture. He looks perfectly reasonable in this picture, and I look well .... yeah. Go ahead and just FORGET making any comments about how I look, and keep in mind I'm still wearing a hard cast and I have violent tendencies.

This is right before I told Scott that I wanted a RED cast, and he and Dave started hyperventilating. Scott reminded me that I'd still be in the cast for the BYU/Utah game and asked if I would please reconsider. We debated all the way into the operating room, and as you can see, when I'm unconscious, I apparently don't get to choose the color of my cast. Just kidding, I "repented" (as Dave called it) and switched the cast color to COUGAR BLUE right before the anesthesiologist came at me with the oxygen mask.

There is an "after" picture, but you will NOT be seeing that. Nope. Sorry. Thanks for asking. Let's just say I don't handle anesthesia very well. I have an ANGRY almost violent reaction when coming out of it and just feel SO rotten. Apparently this time I was being quite loud and my vocabulary got away from me a bit. Dave and the poor nurse did their best to get a handle on the situation. I seriously felt just so YUCK. Ugh. Hate that feeling. HATE IT.

So the good news is the surgery went well. The bad news is, my ankle was a bit more screwed up that we had anticipated going in. According to Scott, my torn peroneus brevis tendon that is supposed to be about the width of his pinky finger was discovered to be the width of his first two fingers during surgery. He called it hypertrophy. It was working too hard to stabilize my ankle and was huge and swollen and all torn up. So, it took quite a bit of "cleaning up." Ooops. I guess I should have got it checked out before. I admit ... I was WRONG. Cherish this moment people.

I've learned a valuable lesson from all of this. It never hurts to get things checked out. If it turns out to be fine and you wasted time and a co-pay .... OH WELL! In my defense, this past year and a half especially, I was SO unbelievably tired of doctors, x-rays, offices, co-pays, lab work, tests, procedures, surgeries, insurance hassles, drugs, needles, outdated magazines in waiting rooms, writing out checks, pharmacies, blah, blah, blah .... I couldn't stand the thought of anything being truly wrong with my ankle or even the possibility of having to get it fixed and being in my bed all drugged out and sick and bored AGAIN!

But thanks to a fantastic Relief Society lesson last Sunday, I need to quit the stinking crying and belly aching and just be GRATEFUL. I'm so glad that the technology and expertise to fix my ankle exists. I'm grateful for my friend/doctor and his willingness to fork out insane amounts of time and $$$ to go to school and learn how to do this stuff. I'm grateful we have insurance and fixing my ankle was even an option.

I'm grateful for our friends and family and ward members who have watched over our family so much this year. I'm grateful for the basket of fun things to entertain me and treats to eat that my friend brought over. I'm grateful for met deductibles and satisfied out-of-pocket maximums, and in that way, I'm grateful for timing. I'm grateful for the yummy meals and treats and running errands done on our behalf. I'm grateful for online shopping and that happy little knock on the door from the FedEx guy. I'm grateful my friend came over and helped me figure out a way to take the medications that would stop the ridiculous vomiting.



I'm grateful we still got to go to St. George for Thanksgiving (where it was SLIGHTLY warmer than here), and I even still got to go shopping the day after Thanksgiving thanks to my mom and sisters pushing me around in a wheelchair (not an easy task apparently .... or maybe they are extra wimpy). I'm grateful for people driving me around and being patient with my being slow. I'm grateful for all the hours and hours of watching T.J. and walking him to and from school. I'm grateful for the patience and resilience of my kids and husband. I'm grateful for my amazing counselors, secretary, and advisors who have once again stepped up and gone the extra mile when I just couldn't do it. I'm grateful for my feet that carry me around and help me take care of my family and give me the freedom I have clearly come to take completely for granted. I'm really excited to have BOTH of them back in working order.



So, the "one to three weeks in a hard cast" I was promised turned into "three to four weeks" and I'm really really hoping to get the cast off this coming Wednesday at my appointment. However, I've smacked my foot pretty good a few times, and I'm sure as heck glad there was a hard cast on there. I slipped in a restroom on a wet floor about an hour after the surgery and slammed it down pretty hard. Wow. Pain. Then on the way home, I passed out in my garage (after I had already passed out in the car) and smacked it again when I fell. At that point, Dave literally threw me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and delivered me to my bed. Don't think I wasn't conscious enough to hear the horrible straining/grunting sound he made when he lifted me and my dead weight from the garage floor. Nice job hon.

The night before my surgery, Michelle and Paula took me out to a movie ... which was a PERFECT stress reliever and apparently my last night out on the town for a while. Paula made me a sign (see below) to safety pin to my shirt. Maybe I should have been wearing my sign. Ugh.



Then just the other night, I slipped on some black ice and smacked it again, and a parking lot of people (i.e., Dave's co-workers) got to hear my "words" of frustration/pain. Anyway, thank goodness for the cast. It's almost like Scott knew how clumsy and accident-prone I am. Weird.

I've officially stopped using the crutches ... as of today. The reasoning being that my arms/hands now hurt worse than my foot. So bye bye crutches. Also, I've walked around in the cast enough that it's cracked on the bottom, so I can bend my foot better and walk without too much trouble ... as long as I go slow. Shhh ... don't tell Dr. Scott. He said I could put weight on it, so hopefully this is what he meant. It still feels better to stay off it and it definitely aches in the evening and at night but nothing I can't live with. So if all goes well, next Wednesday I'll get the cast off and trade it in for a lovely walking boot. One that can be REMOVED to sleep/shower. Yeah for me.

After three weeks in that contraption, it's off to physical therapy for me. Lucky for me, I have access to several good physical therapists and one very accommodating and handsome physical therapist assistant who has agreed to do my therapy at home on the couch. I'm actually not looking forward to the therapy. Dave has way too much fun inflicting pain ... not sure I'm ready to be his next victim ... I mean patient. We'll see how that goes. I guess I have a month to gear up for it. I'll keep you posted. I've got to get busy if I'm going to be on my bike by April ... and I AM going to be on my bike by April. It's happening people.