Marco emailed me yesterday in response to my worry saying it was probably nothing, but they had decided I should come in today. I cancelled my physical therapy and worried.
This morning I woke up with the ankle so stiff it didn't even want to bend enough to go in the boot. This did lead to one positive discovery - my tall cast shower bag fits over the boot. This meant I was able to confidently stand in the shower, which made me briefly happy.
I was also relatively pain free until I had to climb the stairs from the subway platform. After the longest wait I've ever had in Dr. Hubbard's waiting room (made some what surreal by the high school or college football player afraid of an MRI and a doppelganger for actor John Daley) Dr. H. asked me some questions, poked my heel, made me bend it and decided I hadn't torn the incision, but may have pulled it.
So to show my Irish I am now sporting a green cast from my toes to just below my knee. I picked the color. I get to wear this walking cast for a week as we give my heel some quiet time. I miss the bondage boot. At least wearing it I could tell where my foot was. In the cast and cast bootie I find myself over compensating for my fear that I am not lifting my foot high enough. As I said to Marco, I now have a truly eclectic collection of left footwear.
In the cast for a week, followed by a re-evaluation. I am just hoping this hasn't pushed my recovery back too much. I took a cab, rather then trying to walk through the subways, to my afternoon appointment. I did make a detour to visit the physical therapy office. I cancelled my appointments for next week and told both Ed and Carlos that no one was allowed to touch me - once I'm allowed to return to PT - unless they have spoken to Marco or Dr. Hubbard about what they can and can't do. I thought I was being good not hitting anyone with my new cane.
I am not finding this as light as I've been playing it. This has made me angry and worried and depressed. I thought everything was going so well. As a friend keeps reminding me this is not the worst thing - it just sometimes feels like it.
This morning I woke up with the ankle so stiff it didn't even want to bend enough to go in the boot. This did lead to one positive discovery - my tall cast shower bag fits over the boot. This meant I was able to confidently stand in the shower, which made me briefly happy.
I was also relatively pain free until I had to climb the stairs from the subway platform. After the longest wait I've ever had in Dr. Hubbard's waiting room (made some what surreal by the high school or college football player afraid of an MRI and a doppelganger for actor John Daley) Dr. H. asked me some questions, poked my heel, made me bend it and decided I hadn't torn the incision, but may have pulled it.
So to show my Irish I am now sporting a green cast from my toes to just below my knee. I picked the color. I get to wear this walking cast for a week as we give my heel some quiet time. I miss the bondage boot. At least wearing it I could tell where my foot was. In the cast and cast bootie I find myself over compensating for my fear that I am not lifting my foot high enough. As I said to Marco, I now have a truly eclectic collection of left footwear.
In the cast for a week, followed by a re-evaluation. I am just hoping this hasn't pushed my recovery back too much. I took a cab, rather then trying to walk through the subways, to my afternoon appointment. I did make a detour to visit the physical therapy office. I cancelled my appointments for next week and told both Ed and Carlos that no one was allowed to touch me - once I'm allowed to return to PT - unless they have spoken to Marco or Dr. Hubbard about what they can and can't do. I thought I was being good not hitting anyone with my new cane.
I am not finding this as light as I've been playing it. This has made me angry and worried and depressed. I thought everything was going so well. As a friend keeps reminding me this is not the worst thing - it just sometimes feels like it.
