Medieval Torture Treatments?--Surely Not!

So, yesterday we removed the stitches and set the cast.  I truly had mixed feelings anticipating this day. . . Last year, between tweezing 50+ stitches over 45 minutes and then attempting to push a swollen, broken foot upward into a 90 degree angle, I shed quite a few crocodile tears.  I knew the day would not be complete without a lot of pain, but I also knew that getting a cast also meant ditching that bulky, heavy splint and the prospect of more mobility (and showering, who wouldn't endure a few moments of discomfort for a long, hot shower, right?)  But, surprisingly today was easy-peasy!  The only torture I experienced were a slew of zingers Dr. W kept slinging my way . . .

In what seemed a matter of seconds, Dr. W's new surgical resident had removed all the stitches and was asking me what color cast I wanted?!  I opted for boring black.  (After all, I have to return to a place of business in a few weeks; I have to appear somewhat professional and the scooter and backpack don't help the cause any, believe me. . . I mean, I look more like a 3rd grader than a Marketing Director!)  A few minutes later and with dry eyes, I sat up, viewed my new cast and wiggled my toes.  And, the good news I told Dr. W is that I am already feeling better than I did at the same stage last year!

After getting myself up and wheeling myself out of the exam room, I asked him if I could go bother his assistant Karen (my other BFF, by the way . . .).  He bid me adieu by saying, "Yeah, just stop bothering me!  Will you just leave already?"  Did I mention that my appointment was nothing but an onlsaught of zingers?  But, even funnier than he was his entire staff today.  From the x-ray tech to the nurses, every person I encountered kept asking me, "Is this another surgery?"  Yes, indeed; it seems I have not had enough of his torture--either physical or emotional--yet!

Surgically Speaking . . .

Well, Tuesday, February 15th came and went without a hitch!  I was first up on the OR schedule at 8am, which meant a very early arrival at the hospital, but also a limited window of hunger pains! After checking in with the nurses, redeeming my frequent visitor rewards with the QA consultant, and getting a warm "welcome back" from the anesthesiologist (we've practically become BFFs after the number of times I've visited her operating room over the last year), 'the mad scientist' finally arrived to greet me at 7:58am.  I had joked with the rest of the OR staff that he wouldn't arrive until 7:59am, so you can imagine our surprise when he showed up so early!  Of course, when I saw him approaching my bed still wearing his white coat and carrying a pile of about 10 patient files, I exclaimed, "You're not even in your scrubs yet?!  Are you going to be the one to make us late today?"

Luckily he managed to make up time, shaving about 45 minutes off his normal procedure time.  I woke up in Recovery just in time to nosh on a tuna salad sandwich for lunch and to take a short nap--fortunately, I had just local anesthesiology, so I avoided all the awful nausea and exhaustion of last year's surgery!

By dinner time, they moved me to my room on the Orthopaedics floor.  And, with all the gym time I put in over the Summer and Fall, I was able to successfully lift and transfer my body to my bed all by myself!  The nurses continued to be amazed at my adept "bedpan" skills during the remainder of my stay.  But, despite my need for independence, they continued to check on me every few hours, making sure my pain was under control and my belly was well-filled during my stay.  I couldn't have asked for a more attentive nursing staff; they were amazing!

After a rest-filled night, Dr. Weinfeld surprised me with a quick visit to my room Wednesday morning before he left for the airport.  "Did you really think I wouldn't come and see you today?" he said as he entered the room.  He ordered me to return a week later to have my cast set; and, feeling virtually pain-free and full of energy, I was glad to be released home a few hours later.

Can You Tell They're Fake?

Although the footsies have been feeling generally good the last few weeks, a new obstruction along the pursuit of pretty shoes has presented itself recently.  The padding on the balls of my feet seem to have broken down, making it painful to wear any type of hard-soled shoes and leaving me with the dread of walking long distances without my cushy sneakers?!

The 'mad scientist' did say with a bit of concern, "well, I am definitely feeling bone where I shouldn't be", but we couldn't arrive at a decision as to how to resolve the issue.  So, I visited my podiatrist while I was in So-Cal for the holidays and he suggested a few solutions like silicon implants, collagen injections, or padding inserts.  I guess years from now when all the surgeries are done and I can finally show off my pretty shoes, I can make two jokes:


"Well, I had my cankles surgically added." and "Can you tell they're fake?"

But It Still Hurts!

The swelling finally went down last week, but I was still having a bit of pain while walking.  I couldn't take much more of it, so I went to see my good friend Dr. W last week to get his opinion on the subject.  Luckily, after that whole stress fracture debacle in September and not believing me when I said I was in pain, he now listens to me every time I shout "Ouch!".

After touching several points on the top of the foot, the ankle, and finally the outside, I screamed and jumped off the exam table. . .

"OK, I know what this is," Dr. W calmly said.

"Well, that's good.  What do we do now?" I responded.

Apparently, scar tissue has built up and is pinching the nerve on the outside of my ankle.  He suggested two alternatives--try to numb the nerve with a cortisone shot or perform "another surgery . . ." to remove it altogether.  Yeah, I thought we should try the shot first.  It took a full week to make a difference, but I am finally feeling like myself again!

Practically Pain-Free in Every Way

19 weeks . . . 133 days . . . 3192 hours . . . that's how long it has now been since my surgery, but the pain I've been experiencing in my left foot has been even longer.  But that all finally came to an end today!  For the first time in a year and a half, I walked pain free today . . . I joked with my colleagues at work today that you could actually hear my flops flipping down the hall behind me!  Yeah, I can finally walk normally!  And, it feels so good to be normal again!

A Little Too Much, A Little Too Early

So, while I started walking in the boot last week, the steps I was taking were small, slow, and few.  Not only was my foot keeping my tempo down, but I also got hit with a horrible sinus infection after that weekend trip to Cali . . . so, I spent most of last week lying in bed emptying an entire Kleenex box and catching up on all my favorite ABC dramas on the DVR.

So, after two weeks of lying in bed, you can imagine how dirty (and stinky) my little studio had become.  But, I woke up today feeling full of energy and ready to take on the day!  I immediately got up, laced on my walking boot, and got to work.  I just kept thinking to myself, "I feel so good.  I can finally get down on my knees to scrub the bathtub . . . I can stand long enough to wash all of this week's dishes . . . I can finally get caught up on my laundry . . . I finally have enough strength in my legs to clean and get rid of that geriatric commode over the toilet and to sit down properly on the white porcelain again . . ." (um, yeah sorry if that was TMI; I could write an entire post just about all the medical equipment I now own since this surgery and how I need a second bedroom just to store all of it.)

But, by the time I was hanging my delicates up to dry at about 4 this afternoon, it had hit me--the aching and swelling.  Not only had my left ankle grown to the size of a grapefruit inside the boot, but my right foot was aching too.  Damn that CMT!  The high arches I have make long periods of walking and standing nearly impossible.  I've had to teach myself over the last year that while I may have the fortitude to get my long list of chores done, my feet usually can't keep up with my mind.  If I try to fill a Saturday with "putting" around the house, I usually find that I can only do about half of what I'd like to achieve.  If I'd like to get it all done, I really have to try to complete small jobs each day throughout the week instead of trying to do it all on the weekend. . . I guess I just forgot what I already knew for a short time today. . .  that's life with CMT now, learning again and again how to change my thinking and to listen to my body.

So, I spent dinnertime ordering take out, sitting on the couch, and icing my feet!

Get Moving Already!

Well, I made it to LAX safely for the wedding.  In fact, that weekend trip turned out to probably be the easiest travel experience I've ever had!  Wheelchair service was fantastic. . . I just sat in my mobile chair while everyone wheeled me to where I needed to go and picked up my luggage for me.  The car rental agency even provided me concierge service by pulling the car up to the curb for me. . . it was fantastic!  I managed to get along fairly well with the crutches throughout the weekend; I just watched my foot become the size of a football during the entire process!

But, back here in The City, I visited my doctor this week to have him examine my foot just one more time to make sure that nothing was wrong (despite all my suspicions).  By Thursday, the swelling had nearly disappeared completely for the first time and I woke up thinking to myself, "is this what my new foot will actually look like?  Hmm, it's not so bad . . ."

So, in Dr. Weinfeld's office later that afternoon, he took one look at it and said, "everything is fine.  You need to stop thinking about the pain and start walking. . . take some drugs if you need help getting through it, but you should be walking."  Well, if I couldn't count on Dr. Weinfeld for giving it to me straight, then I don't know who I could count on, really.

So, my physical therapist got me up on my own two feet (well, my own foot and this new, unrecognizable foot; yes, I have two entirely different feet now, but that's another post all on its own) with the help of that sexy medical cane and the boot this week.  I made a few laps up and down the hall without (too much) pain.  The last few days have been a different story, however. . . while the foot has finally stopped blowing up like a blowfish everyday, the pain persists.  I just have to keep telling myself I can do this . . . I can do this . . . I can do this . . . give me the damn Advil, will ya?

One more thing--the doc wants me in tennis shoes by the time I see him again in four weeks . . . he does realize I have to go buy new shoes because I am no longer the same shoe size, right?  I have to buy new shoes . . . yeah, but they won't be pretty ones?! (sniff, sniff . . .)

A Step Backward

I had just finished up the required two weeks of crutches and was ready to take my first steps on Monday.  I had fully prepared for the day by getting myself a new pair of supportive tennis shoes and a 4-pronged medical cane that was far too sexy for my personal sense of style.  I laced up a shoe on my right foot and velcroed the boot onto my left foot Monday morning and took a few steps across the floor and out my front door: I was ready!  The first few steps were a little painful, but I managed to shift some of the weight to the cane and to get to work in one piece.

But, after continuing to experience shooting pains in my left heel with every single step, I finally tried to call the doctor Monday afternoon.  Unfortunately, he was out of the office and I couldn't get the answers I needed.

I tried to avoid any unncessary steps for the rest of the day and all day Tuesday.  But, by Wednesday the pain had gotten bad enough that I was screaming every time I took a step.  The doctor finally called me back on Wednesday to tell me that "it's perfectly normal to feel pain in the heel" when first walking.  I replied, "I need you to define normal for me, because this is really unbearable."

Now, don't get me wrong. . . I am not someone that is unfamiliar with pain.  In my past life, I've walked on a broken foot for ten days, driven myself to the emergency room to get stitches, and managed to continue dance classes for a week after getting a herneated disc in my back.  So, one could say that I have a pretty high tolerance for pain.  But, there was no way that I could tolerate this pain . . .

So, the doc recommended that I go back to the crutches. . .  and, I reluctantly have.  But, I cried the entire drive home tonight.  I am supposed to fly to CA this weekend for my best girlfriend's wedding and I just don't know how I am going to manage with the crutches and my luggage.  My mom tried to convince me not to go, but I just can't let my friends (or myself) down.  I've been looking forward to this trip since the surgery date and I wasn't prepared to give it all up at this little setback.

So, this time tomorrow night, I will be landing in LAX with a swollen foot, a cumbersome boot, a pair of unlucky crutches, and a heavy suitcase.  God (and the Delta Airlines staff) help me . . .

Baby Steps, Baby Steps

After writing a teary-eyed post Monday night, hitting re-dial with what seemed like a bazillion times, and an ever-growing panic attack at the thought that my world as I knew it was falling apart, I finally reached Mom on the damn phone sometime late Tuesday afternoon to finally get that all-knowing "motherly advice" I desperately needed. We talked about my options for scheduling surgery, discussed how this diagnosis is now going to change my lifestyle, and tried to speculate why it has taken 32 years to finally get the answers to all the questions we have been asking since the day I took my first steps. (Yes, apparently there have been clues that a trained physician could have deciphered at any point before now . . . whodathunkit?)

We both agreed that I will probably have a much more enjoyable holiday season without a full cast, crutches, ice packs, and narcotics (although they might be more cheery with drugs and alcohol, I am sure). I also recognized that I was becoming increasingly overwhelmed at the idea of leaving the office and all my open projects in just three weeks (with one of those including a foreign business trip). Additionally, by delaying the surgery, I can afford some time finding another doctor to offer a second opinion.

After a few days of thoughtful consideration and a long talk with my boss, I've decided to schedule the surgery in January 2010. I figure I am already in constant pain, but the pain I will feel post-surgery will be much worse; and, I really want to be able to sit on the floor opening gifts under the tree on Christmas morning with my nieces and nephews. Plus, after having to endure my birthday with a broken foot three years ago, I would really like to spare myself a repeat of that agony.

So, here is my plea: Is there anyone who would like to volunteer to come spend a week in the Big Apple in January? You won't get to see much of the city since you'll be feeding me, doing my laundry and generally being my bed-nurse . . . but if you'd be kind enough to come help me with my recovery, I will promise to take long, drug enduced naps each and every afternoon, giving you the opportunity to take in a Broadway show, tour the MOMA, take photos from the top of the Empire State Building or to see any other sites that you've never had the chance to discover.

Sure, it'll be winter, but not to worry; we don't really get much snow and there are plenty of indoor activities to enjoy! Besides, for those of you that are unemployed (or have an open calendar), when else are you going to have the opportunity to pick up and jet to the NYC? Volunteers welcome!