Walking on Sushine

The last few weeks of living in the boot have been relatively easy.  Knowing exactly what to expect this second time around has definitely helped to keep my patience in check, but overall the healing process has been both faster and easier on the right foot too, keeping my happiness meter tilting all the way to the right as well!

With the left foot last year, 'the mad scientist' had instructed me to use crutches for the first two weeks in the boot to gradually increase my weight bearing, enabling me to walk the third week without any assistance.  Things did not go as planned. . . I was in so much pain that third week that I eventually had to go back to the crutches again.  In preparation for this same scenario, I informed him that I would be going for the full three weeks this time around.  But, it turns out I didn't need to!  Thanks to some mentoring from my fantastic new therapist John, I successfully trained my foot to hit the ground after only two weeks!  I'm continuing to use the cane for longer jaunts outdoors on the hard concrete, but for all intents and purposes, I am walking!

I'm continuing my therapy sessions and we've had a few breakthrough moments this week like picking up marbles with my toes!  Exciting, I know?!  (Well, it's exciting for me anyway . . .)

Working It Out . . .

Normally when I make a large decision, I study the pros and cons, I weigh the costs, and I research as much information as I can before deciding which alternative is the most appropriate.  But, two weeks ago, I thought it would be better to just dive right into this one before I could talk myself out of it . . .

I renewed my gym membership and immediately charged $1000 worth of personal trainer sessions on my credit card.  Now, those that know me best would be shocked to hear that I did this for a few reasons:  1.) I am a huge cheapskate and would never think about making such a large purchase without more forethought, 2.) Exercise has got to be in the Top 3 list of things I hate to do in this world, and 3.) I really dislike sweating.

But, since I started feeling better last month, I quickly realized that while my foot felt better, my overall health and stamina was still less than stellar.  Plus, with less than four months until the next surgery, I realized that I need to lose some serious weight and to strengthen my upper body in preparation for crutches again.  So, with such a hefty goal to achieve and a small window to achieve it in, I figured I needed a professional to help mold and shape me (literally).

What was most amusing during the sales pitch was the series of questions I was asked so that I could be matched with "my perfect trainer".  It went a little something like this:

"How long ago did you have surgery?"
"5 months ago."
"How long can you stand?"
"Comfortably?  About 20 minutes."
"Can you run yet?"
"Uh, no."
"Can you do any high impact?"
"No, I can't do any running or jumping yet."
"Can you do stairs?"
"Well, yes, but I am pretty slow; I wouldn't exactly classify that as a calorie burning activity."
"OK, we're gonna work on your upper body!"

So, after two weeks of being paired with Andrew, all he does is yell, "Crutches ain't got nothing on you!" to keep me motivated.  It's quite funny, actually!  He is determined to get me strong enough for the next surgery and to drop the poundage.  So far, he is succeeding; I am already down 7 pounds.  Although, today was a bit of a challenge as my foot was really swollen and stinging (um yeah, I am thinking it may be a stress fracture or another new ailment) . . . he ordered me to call the doctor tomorrow.  Let's hope the doc proves me wrong; I've got a vacation coming on Friday that includes hiking and biking in the mountain air!

Let's Get Physical!

Today was the first day of physical therapy and I had been dreading it all week!  Now, don't get me wrong, I have always been the "A+" student who follows direction and does her homework exactly as instructed.  After all, I miss my independence tremendously and want more than anything to gain it back as quickly as possible; and, I'm (usually) willing to do whatever it takes to get it.  In fact, I have been known on previous occasions to push myself a little too hard, amazing the doctors and forcing them to beg me to slow down.  When I was recuperating from a knee surgery in high school, I had been told I would be immobile for 6 weeks . . . yeah, I made sure I was walking in 4 (and, if I remember correctly, I think I was skipping and jumping in 5)!

So, I wasn't afraid of the work necessary to gain mobility.  No, I was afraid of the pain.  Actually, I was afraid  that after all the pain I would have to endure, I would still not be able to gain measurable use of my foot and ankle.  (Wow, I think that's the first time I've been able to actually put into words what I have been feeling all along.)  I think that the diagnosis of CMT (and all the symptoms that go along with it) has brought my fear and anxiety to an all new level.  I believe that if this surgery had been one that had been performed to simply correct an injury and nothing else, I would feel much more confident in my recovery.  But, just like everything else in my life--like my relationship with my father, my addiction to ice cream, and my overwhelming sense of independence combined with a desperate need to be loved by a man--my feelings are complex.

Anyway, I met with the physical therapist today (despite a few obstacles like first having to find a new, unknown therapist because my regular therapist who I adore and have been seeing for over a year is not covered under my new insurance; and then second, failing to hail a cab for nearly 30 minutes and making me extremely late for my scheduled appointment) and her eyes nearly popped out of her head when she saw this severely swollen "ham hock" excuse for a left foot.  We did a few muscle flex exercises and some massage to reduce the swelling, but overall, you could safely say that I have nothing but dead weight hanging off my left leg.

The pain was minimal and I am confident that my next visit will be easier.  But, all I can think about (and what I confessed to the therapist out loud) is:  am I going to have cankles when this is all said and done?