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Six months

29 Jul

Today is six months since the snap.

How far have I come? Well I am typing this in Dublin. But really I’m not about to channel Oprah, so to steal from Fat Boy Slim…
You’ve come a long way baby


Honourable Discharge

20 Jul

This week saw my last visit to the Dr. Its been three months since I removed the boot, so to mark the occasion I headed back to the hospital to see my very lovely Dr for what I hoped was my last appointment.

On my journey over I thought if I was discharged would a thank you hug be too much? Is it allowed on the NHS?  He is a lovely and he did fix my stupid leg, a hug isn’t too much is it, I thought? A handshake too formal and a simple ‘thank you’ not enough, its quite a quandary. I arrived to find my Dr was sunning himself on a beach somewhere rather than locked in a stuffy airless room ready to prod my leg and impart some words of wisdom. Hugging the Registrar would mean a quick call to Psyche so that decision was made for me. Perhaps a card and box of Roses?

Anyway back to the reason for my visit. After a quick look at the leg I was discharged. Just like that. Done. Finished. Nothing else to say, in the eyes of the medical community, my leg is fixed.

Physio will still continue for a couple of months, I’m a few weeks away from starting running. But apart from that I am healed.

Six weeks post op

16 Mar

For the first time in my life I am continuing to receive good reports. Yesterday was my six week post op review appointment. There’s lots going on…

I’m now down to one wedge
I don’t need to see the Dr again for another 4-6 weeks
Physio starts Monday
I’ve been given the okay for delicate range of movement in the foot
I’m still on two crutches until the physio says otherwise. Did try one step but even writing this makes me feel nauseous again
The boot will continue to be part of my wardrobe for another 4 weeks or so

I’m really happy. My Dr is really happy. We’re all really happy. I hope you reader are happy.

Its raining here which is trying to scupper all my hard work – wet surfaces and crutches make for slips, skids and sore legs. If this was a Hollywood movie my post Dr visit slip would have ended with me flat on my face and a tense hospital visit to see if I had undone all my hard work. It was in fact a mini slip which whilst shocking was a good reminder that I am not a crutch wielding superhero and should be careful.

My reward is to go shopping. I’ve been on a shopping diet lately, so I am so excited I feel like a 7 year old off to a birthday party. I know all I will want to buy is shoes, however I am focussing my mind (see previous post for this in action) on items which are not dependent on me, a) queuing for a changing room or b) needing to remove the boot to try on.

The psychology of a rupture

2 Mar

There are lots of psychologies…breakups, make-ups, breakdowns. We read and talk about them everyday. So and so split up, why because he/she cheated. Simple? No because behind it there’s some if not a lot of psychology.

I’ve started to think about the psychology of a rupture. In very black and white terms when you get injured a great deal of your focus shifts to healing. In my case fixing the tendon, putting it back together but there is also your confidence you need to rebuild, a universe to continue exploring and the journey to begin to understand your body again, what can it actually do? Today, tomorrow, next week. Its a constant dialogue and you don’t always like what its got to say.

People say ‘listen to your body’, well mine is giving off two signals, pain and no pain, which I am now fluent in. But the underlying confidence to know that I can do something is missing. Its a massive gaping confusing hole. I now look to my Dr to translate whats in this hole for me. ‘You’re doing well’ is all you long to hear.

A couple of months ago I could leave my flat, for love affairs, career struggles, meet new people and experience everything this great city has to offer. In fact, passport in hand my universe was wherever I wanted to go. Now my universe has shrunk a little and consists of about 100 metre radius of my flat.

I wonder what people with ruptures did before the internet? My life is now 80% digital and 20% real. My conversations still happen in real time but through Skype, social networks and tweets. I work in digital and I have embraced more about the internet and social media and its ability to enable my new lifestyle than what I used to do to feed my professional appetite.

The internet won’t help me heal but it keeps me connected to a world that I can’t participate in as fully as I would like. Observing is fine for a while.

There’s a lot going on here. I’ve never been injured before. the last time i was in hospital I had my wisdom teeth out. So these thoughts are jumbled and slightly incoherent but hopefully it gives you an idea of what’s going on behind the aircast. I am certain that one day in the coming weeks I will leave my flat again wearing two shoes, skipping down the front steps on my way to the tube and the thought of my ruptured tendon won’t ever figure. The psychology may take a bit longer.

Good Report

1 Mar

Four week post op report was good. Off to Highgate to see my lovely but schooled in ‘Tough Love’ Dr.

I have taken to necking ibuprofen before my appointments and today I was glad I did.  The Dr is really pleased with how I am healing. In fact so pleased that he insisted on manipulating the tendon to show it moving my foot, quite like a gleeful puppeteer. School of Tough Love in action. I was rather green faced puppet – however pleased the report its not really what I wanted to see on a Friday afternoon.

We tried to take out two wedges (from four) but the tendon started to stretch and hurt so we opted to remove just one. Why isn’t there a half wedge?

Next appointment is in two weeks time and we’re aiming for that to be a two wedge removal consultation and to start physio.

Post appointment I treated myself to a coffee and watched the world go by. I have felt quite vulnerable when I’ve been out by myself but I’m starting to build up confidence on my crutches and managed a rather speedy hop back to the car.

Today was indeed a good day.

4 weeks post op

1 Mar

I am off the to see the Dr today. Tomorrow is four weeks since my op and its been the longest and shortest month. Basically an oxymoron of a month.
Legs 4 week post op
As you can see in the picture, my leg has shrunk further and as you might be able to see I think I might be getting a sore from my aircast.

Just the day to day sexy stuff of a rupture.

I am not looking forward to the Drs. I am pretty positive in most situations but have decided to go with a worse case scenario with today’s consultation. I haven’t done anything to warrant it, but if I think this then anything else is fine.


A walk in the park

17 Feb

That’s what I did today. I went for a walk.

Ma A decided that I was going to become agoraphobic if I stayed indoors any longer and that fresh air, sunshine and the sound of squealing children was what I needed. I agreed to the former two and a disagreed to the latter one, but as a romp round Oxford St is out of the question I acquiesced and got myself suitably attired for Gunnersbury Park.

This is my first trip out since the boot was fitted. I spent yesterday getting to grips with it and reminding myself to walk lightly on it, whilst trying not to remember the horror stories of people who had re-ruptured whilst recovering. Why I read things I shouldn’t, I’ll never know.

It was slow going, but glorious to be outside. I managed about 100 metres before a sit down was in order. A number of children stopped and pointed, asking their parents ‘why the lady had the funny boot on’ I hoped that they would say I was some futuristic police office, that’s what I would have told them. But unfortunately no.

It was easier on my booted leg than I thought. I can put partial weight on it, I have no idea what ‘partial’ is so I am just lightly walking and stopping the pressure when it starts to hurt. Its my left leg that pains me currently. I like to think my leg has sympathy pains. In all probability its painful from under use the last couple of weeks and now having to do the job of both legs. Poor left leg.

My crutches are also starting to hurt my hands which slows me down. My hands weren’t made for crutches, but until I am fully up we’ve made a deal that that’s their job.

Its back to the inbox tomorrow, but from home for two weeks, then I am back in the office, so a daily jaunt out round the mini park by my flat will help build up the muscles ready for the Piccadilly line.