There’s been enough drama with Leo that I haven’t written about my injury and recovery lately.
The combination of a broken bone and extensive ligament damage means it’s been a long haul. Over two months in a non weight-bearing cast, then a month in a walking boot. I have a plate and several screws in my leg and I have a beautiful 5″ scar on the outside of my ankle.
I still walk with pain and with a limp, and because of that limp I have pain in my tailbone, which fucking sucks. My ankle and foot remain swollen and it could be the same for many more months. I’ve just been diagnosed with needing two months of physiotherapy, 3-5 times a week. How I’m going to find time for that I have no idea.
But at least I can walk, and wear shoes (although no heels and nothing snug across the top of my foot). I no longer have crutches or a boot or do I have to take taxis anywhere. It’s bliss, frankly.
While my friends and family came to visit me during my recovery, I missed going out. Since my vacation with Leo I am finally back to a normal cadence of social activities.
It’s awesome. Although I’ve gained weight so my clothes don’t fit, and my liver is unhappy. I lost weight during the first month of my recovery, probably due to not drinking and only eating at home. But it all came back, and then some. I still wore a bikini on vacation with Leo and even posted a picture on Instagram, although from a careful angle.
While I’m an extrovert, it’s not to an extreme and I need my alone time. I got too much alone time in January and February so it’s nice to be back in the office, and be able to go out more often. It’s awesome to finally take Liam out for some more active jaunts, although he remains frustrated I still can’t play sports with him.
It might sound strange for someone to be so excited about being able to wear shoes. But this kind of injury sucks beyond what I could have predicted.
For the first few weeks, I was on opioid painkillers which meant my brain was fuzzy. I’m used to functioning at a decently high level and simply couldn’t. Writing was out, and reading was a challenge. I played around on my phone or watched TV; not my usual down time activities.
I had to have my leg elevated most of the time, as the moment I lowered it the swelling and pain kicked in. I couldn’t go anywhere, not even one step, without crutches. I refused to stay in bed, so every day I got up, brushed my teeth and hair, and got dressed. Showering involved a shower chair (yes, the same one the elderly use), and some gymnastics to keep my leg out while sat in.
Going down or up my stairs was mentally and physically draining. Forgetting something I needed sometimes made me cry. I had to anticipate in advance when I needed to go to the bathroom, because nothing happened quickly.
It was hard to ask for and accept help, and particularly difficult to express how difficult it all was. I mean, it’s not cancer. It could have been worse. It was “just a break”. How on earth could it be so debilitating, so lonely, so depressing, so fucking hard?!
There were two silver linings.
The first was Leo. My situation forced me to slow down which gave me more availability, and he was able to show himself as a caring and thoughtful man.
The second was my realization that my efforts in rebuilding my friendships worked. If you’ve read my posts about the breakdown of my marriage (and if you haven’t, don’t hesitate to contact me for the password), you’ll know I felt I’d let many friendship go. I had an okay friendship base, but not like the one I have today. I am incredibly blessed with the friends and family in my life, and this situation proved to me without a doubt.
So I’m thrilled I can wear cute shoes, and walk without crutches, and meet friends for drinks, and go back up my stairs when I forget my phone. I will do my physio and get my weight back down and keep on truckin’, like I always do.