Surgery Update with Pictures! Ewww!

Yesterday was a big day in the world of ankle surgery recovery. Lon drove me across town and kept me company as Doctor Chop’s Lovely Assistant used some special little pliers to remove 10 shiny staples from the incision site. It was only mildly uncomfortable except for the last one. That tenacious little thorn required extra maneuvering that made my eyes spill.

Doctor Chop was no nonsense. He said the ankle looked good, which must be some kind of doctor talk for not infected, and reeled off a list of orders. No moving the foot for another week then I could return to work as long as I sat down, limited walking & standing and then only with crutches. No weight-bearing on the hurt foot, period. I would have agreed to anything short of a root canal to eventually be able to walk without pain. It’s been three years, for cryin’ out loud, since I stepped (fell) onto the curb that changed my life.


Best of all, Dr. Chop said I’d be wearing a boot cast, as opposed to the cement ones so joyfully administered by my previous doctor’s lovely assistant. This meant once the incision is completely healed, I’ll be able to take showers without having to sausage my leg from the calf down in multi-layers of towel and plastic. I’ll still have to sit down in the shower for the next four weeks but it’s a heck of a lot easier when you don’t have to do it with your leg hanging over the edge.


The Lovely Assistant returned with the boot cast, and I think there was a heavenly aura around it, and maybe I heard angel music. I was smiling like a monkey right up until she starting shoving my foot into the thing. It quickly became a torture device. I thanked God it was removable because I was removing it the first chance I got. Walking is overrated anyway. I could learn to hop on one foot. Crazier things have happened.


L.A. was all cheer and smiles as she bent my ankle into a shape it hadn’t achieved since before the operation. The pain made staple removal feel good in comparison. I actually moaned out loud on the road to crying like a baby. I thought of my mother-in-law, who after two extensive abdominal operations said she had no pain, that she was “just a little sore.” Wimp, I thought to myself. Eventually the sharp pain dissipated, leaving my more tolerable companions, Aching and Throbbing.


As we left Doctor Chop’s office, I felt very sorry for myself. I needed sympathy. I needed a hug. I needed pasta. So on the way home, Lonnie stopped at Steak N Shake and I knocked off half a Chili Mac Supreme.


Back at home I wrestled with endless straps of multi-sided Velcro to free my poor ankle from the big bad monster and let my foot spring back into the position God intended. Then I lost my balance and accidentally stepped down on it. Electric needles shot up through my foot all the way out the top of my head and through the ceiling into the great beyond. Maybe ankle freedom wasn’t such a good idea. Lonnie chastised me for not following instructions, but as mentioned in a previous entry, he knew I had behavior issues when he signed up for me it’s a little late to complain about it now.


I embarked on a slow journey of self torment; bending my ankle back into an L position and strapping my foot back in. Took a Benadryl and fell asleep sitting up, just like Lon and his folks do when I try to engage them in conversation.


The night improved when Miss Barbara sent church supper - tomato soup and gorilla cheese sandwiches. There’s not much better than a hot gorilla on a cool evening, so being unable to improve upon dinner, I fell back asleep.


Enough for now. I really just posted so I could share my gross-out staple pictures!