Week 8 into my recovery from reconstructive foot surgery is starting to take it's toll on me, and I want to get out of my cast as much as I want to get out of the house more.
The weather hasn't been cooperative. We've had a few snowfalls and what seems like more freezing rain than we usually get. More times than not, the weather has presented freezing rain or drizzle on Fridays.
I've always loved Fridays because I would try to leave the office early and explore. I would put in an extra half-hour or hour on a couple of days through the week and get into the office as early as possible, so that I can head out shortly after lunch.
I can't remember the last time the weather allowed me to go into the office on a Friday, much less let me out early.
My foot is much improved and I only feel pain if I jar my foot. A couple of times, I've been standing on my good foot without supporting aids and have lost my balance, and I would extend my left leg, heel forward, to try and re-steady myself. I've found that my left heel can withstand some weight if that weight is transferred directly up my leg. If any weight moves toward the foot, I usually recover on my right leg but the pain is intense, like steel rods passing through every bone in the foot.
It's probably the screws.
I last saw my surgeon on December 28, which was one day after the six-week point since the surgery. It was my first visit to him with my iWalk 2.0 hands-free crutch (aka my peg leg). The purpose of this visit was to have my foot x-rayed to determine if it was strong enough to support my weight, albeit with the Aircast still protecting the incision areas.
It was the fastest appointment ever. With my check-in, x-ray, examination, and booking for the next appointment, I was in and out of the plaster wing of the Civic Hospital in about 20 minutes.
Even with my surgeon's curiosity over my peg leg.
The x-ray showed that the surgery has thus far been successful. The bone that Dr. M— had extracted from my pelvis was fusing well to the bones in my foot. The bone around the eight screws appeared solid. There were only two small spots, indicated in grey, that showed the bones were still knitting.
"Three more weeks, and we'll have another look," my doctor said.
And so, I'm stuck with my peg leg, still a prisoner to the unfriendly weather.
My surgeon was impressed with the range of motion in my foot. I could point my foot, wiggle my toes (although, I think my middle toe is faking it, relying on the pull from the toes on either side to move it around), and slightly rock the ankle from side to side.
"For the past week or so," I admitted, "I've been taking my cast off when I'm watching television and when I go to bed at night."
"That's good practice," he acknowledged, "keep it up."
I told him that I have no sensations when I touch my foot from the base of my big toe to the incision area at the top of my foot, except when I try to massage it, in which case it feels like the area is burning. He assured me that no major nerves were severed during the operation and that it could take several months before I recover normal sensation.
The incision on the side of my foot is already starting to fade. Sometimes, when I look at it, it reminds me of an indentation that comes from having a crease in a sock. In low light, I barely see it at all.
The incision on the top has started healing on either end but the middle still has a wide and what appears to be a deep scab. I've been massaging my foot—and both scars—with cocoa butter, but I don't try to rush that scab.
Ten days to go until my next appointment, but even if the new x-ray shows that I can stand on my foot, there will still be several more weeks in the Aircast and then more weeks—or months—of physiotherapy.
So there are still miles to go. And when I think of it, when I think that I may only be halfway along the road to recovery, I get anxious.
There are so many things I want to do. I have my trip to Korea to plan. I have friends who will be visiting in late spring to early summer. I have our family vacation ahead. Photo walks I want to lead.
Everything is counting on me having two sturdy feet below me. If cabin fever has hit already, what am I going to do with the rest of winter?
Miles to go before I can look forward to another Friday.
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