So on August 24th I thought I would be a daredevil and ride this beast of machinery.
This is my husband riding it. Looks scary right?
Well this is what it did to my leg.
So basically I took it out thinking, I've owned bikes I know what I'm doing. Well its amazing that after all these years of worrying about dropping my motorcycle that I would fall two inches off the ground and hurt myself. My fall was only after riding about 10 feet. I basically just kind of flubbed over but when I sat up I noticed my ankle was pointing in the opposite direction. I calmly stated I broke my ankle only to have my husband and mom laugh thinking I was just an Oscar winning actress. After a second I then screamed, I BROKE MY ANKLE! When they came over it was very apparent that the ankle was NOT pointed in the right direction.
Well this happened on a Saturday morning and the ER told me I would have to go to an ortho doctor on Monday. WTF? I have to wait like this? Oh yeah by the way he said I definitely broke my Fibula but he isn't quite sure if I did break my Tibia. Did you know cracker jack boxes come with a MD license?
So back to camping because these is nothing left to do but get laughed at and taunted by the evil machine. My poor husband had to listen to me scream in pain every time I sneezed and funny thing about nerves, when they get damaged they like to twitch. Feeling the bones rubbing on each other DOES NOT feel good.
So Monday morning rolls around and I call the local orthopedic office and tell them what has happened and they tell me they can't see me until Tuesday. TUESDAY!!! I can't take another day of this pain, I tell my husband to keep driving south we are going to OrthoIndy. I called them, told the exact same story and their response was, "How soon can you get here?" We were there within an hour. Oh yeah by the way since I thought I was having surgery I hadn't eaten nor brought any pain killers so now I'm back to deafcon 10 on the pain scale.
I used to have a cute foot
Dr. Baele was not happy with the cracker jack cast and could clearly see on my iPhone that I had indeed broken both bones and would be going straight into surgery. He introduced me to Dr. Weber and his team and they had me on the way. During my whole pain filled head I experienced two acts of kindness that I will never forget. The first was Dr. Weber coming into the room, introducing himself, he took my hand and rubbed the back of it with his thumb and told me he would take care of me. That kind touch meant the world to me.
The anethesiologist was AMAZING! I explained to him my low threshold (meaning quick upchuck) to narcotics. He hooked me up with Zofran and the ear patch. I remember getting wheeled into the surgery wing as 5 people behind masks introduced themselves. They wheeled me up to the surgical table and the next thing I know I'm waking up to a wonderful nurse feeding me ice chips! That was the second act of kindness I remember, I woke up to this kind nurse who was by my side, I felt protected, I felt safe.
Final verdict is I broke both bones, dislocated my ankle, and tore all the cartilage.
See that long horizontal pin? That is holding both my Tibia and Fibula in place while I heal, it will come out, the rest will stay. I've been assimilated. :(
Yes they mark the limb they will be operating on just to make sure it's the right one.
Something funny happens when you are in the hospital, pudding and jello just become the biggest thing you crave. I woke up with a huge appetite and ordered like a million things off the menu. I love me some hospital food.
It's odd and nice how animals react to you when you are injured. Wasabi never left my side.
This is how my husband reacts when I'm hurt...it's all fun and games until someone gets hurt, hey wait.
So I was told I will be no weight bearing for 2 months and will have another surgery to remove the long pin in 4-6 months. It's strange how this physical damage made me emotionally damaged. I was a blubbering mess, I cried at the drop of a hat, it doesn't feel good to be helpless and to have to depend on others for help. I couldn't even cook and Adam's job had him in another state until 11pm at night. I got really depressed, Adam got really worried. He started researching and went to myachybreakyfoot.com and discovered this was all part of the process, something about pain receptors and depression. So there was reasoning behind my sadness. Thankfully I had help from amazing friends and family who did come out to help.
One of my biggest fears was how awful my scar was going to be. At OrthoIndy they have a saying that goes, "My scar means..." I sat down and really contemplated it, for the longest time i thought, "My scar means I'm a dumb ass."
So holding back the tears (Gotta man up at the doctors office) they unveiled this monstrosity.
It was as bad as I thought. Dr. Weber was proud to have saved my tattoo though. I look like a Christmas roast!!
The dogs could feel my pain and sadness.
I didn't let this hold me back from attending every race this season. Hell I was in the running for first place women's champ!
On October 2 (our wedding anniversary) I got the best news ever, I could go ahead and take off the metal cast and start weight bearing!!! Best news ever but crap I didn't bring a damn shoe. I started physical therapy at Miracles and let me tell you you must MUST follow the plan of care, fight through the pain. My therapist said I have progressed and healed faster then anyone they have ever seen with this type of injury. It hurts dealing with scar tissue but I didn't want the stiffness to win and set in, I'm got years of dumb ass decision left to make and I need my legs working.
I use bio oil everyday twice a day to work on the scar.
So back in June I bought tickets to see Kaskade in Chicago. I was not letting this injury hold me back. Going to the concert was the worse experience. This sucked because the music and set was amazing; I'd been looking forward to it for months, focused my healing on being able to still go, and wanted to enjoy our first concert together. I took the rollator because at Navy Pier there was no seating and I couldn't stand for 5 hours on my leg. Adam pushed me through the streets of Chicago on the rollator. We got to the middle of the pit about 30 feet from the stage. As the night progressed before Kaskade came on stage it got more and more crowded. It was unbearable as people kept tripping over the rollator. We moved out to the side places but now I couldn't see ANYTHING! I found a disabled station but it was right behind a pole. WTF? I feel sorry for anyone who is in a wheelchair who goes because you paid money to sit behind a huge pole.
I know theres no crying at EDM concerts but...
I did manage to race the last race of the season. Still waiting for final word but I think I still managed to become the woman's champ for the Indiana region. Keep fingers crossed because it was a tight race.
So as of November 8, I am within 5 degrees of mobility of my other leg. I will be undergoing another surgery at the end of December to take out that long pin. I do feel blessed because time has gone by faster then expected. Now I say, "My scar means I'm cared for."
Or "My scar means I'm Borg."
