Who knew that wearing matching shoes would be such a big deal? These are MY feet at the dog park.



Last week, I was still limping along with a crutch (graduated from two crutches and/or a wheelchair) and this week, I'm wearing normal shoes, off the pain meds and getting on the elliptical!

I can only do about 10 minutes before my foot starts to hurt, but it's something right? RIGHT!

Since I can now do the elliptical, I'm on a sugar and refined carb detox and I'm lifting weights. Oh, and I'm doing sit ups. Why not just go all out, right? RIGHT!

Did I mention that this surgery enables me to wear fun shoes again? No ol' lady shoes for me. Nope.

Since I'm at it- I think I'm going to do a really fun color combo in my hair tomorrow.

What can I say, I don't do things half way.

I went for my third post-op trip to the foot surgeon today. Things look great on the outside, but I'm building up too much scar tissue on the inside, so I have to beat up my foot as much as I can stand. The surgeon told me to make BJ mad and then ask him to rub my foot. My surgeon is a funny guy.

Either I've been too drugged up in the past to understand what the surgeon has been telling me- or he never really told me the full scope of the surgery. He said that he took out a tunnel of bone that goes from one side of my ankle to the other, about an inch wide. Hmmmm... THAT explains the pain. He also told me that I'm having pain up the back of my ankle and lower leg because the tendon is getting too tight from not being able to move my ankle around. He sees physical therapy in my future.

He said that there's nothing I could do to harm my foot (except what happened in the first place, fall and break stuff), so I can so whatever I want as long as I'm willing to put up with the pain. That's comforting in a way, I guess.

I've been driving myself around the last few days and having a blast being on my own. It's been over a month since I've been able to go anywhere by myself. Unfortunately, I tend to overdo it when I get excited about things, so now I'm sitting with my foot up on a pillow with a percocet (without the 'cet since tylenol is not my friend) on board.

Here's the list of things that I've enjoyed about being temporarily disabled:

1. I got to ride in a wheelchair at the airport and go to the front of security and board the plane first. The wheelchair was fun until my brother Michael started pushing me and tried to scare me. Some things never change.



2. I got to see what it was like to be under suspicion for carrying a bomb on a plane. Apparently the stuff they use to make the crutch pads is also used to make bombs. I was frisked from head to toe (from a woman- meh!) and all of the contents in my backpack were wiped down with bomb detection stuff. After that, security had to make a decision as to whether they'd want to be on an airplane with me because they STILL couldn't tell if I was bringing on bomb-making materials. I told them to not take the company I keep into consideration (my brother).



3. People are nice to me when I'm on crutches. In fact, today a man offered to take my shopping cart to the cart return for me. I thanked him profusely



4. I got to ride in one of those silly carts at Walmart. It's not as fun as it looks, but I do recommend that everyone do it at least once! Do not judge my hair in this picture. I haven't had it cut in 2 months, but I'm willing to forgo the pride to let you see me make a complete fool of myself.
   
   

I'm not going to make a list of things I haven't enjoyed, because I fear you'll go blind from all the words.

Next up on my list of things to blog about in no particular order:

• Our family visit to see my parents


• My new HTC EVO 4G. Holy smokes, it's my new favorite toy. ::ahem:: I mean phone.


• Ummm... I've lost my train of thought- but there's something else. Stupid drugs...

PS- Einstein is hosting a 40.00 gift certificate giveaway on his blog. Everyone is eligible to enter. You don't even have to like dogs (but why wouldn't you? tee hee)

One would think it would be fun to have someone else do everything for you like grocery shop; carry laundry up and down stairs; and other sundry chores. I HATE it.

Don't get me wrong- I am so grateful that I have such a wonderful husband, but I'm much too independent for this. I'm a doer, not a taker and this is getting old. Every time I try to 'do', I'm either chastised by BJ or my foot starts yelling at me. That's not to say that I don't keep trying (double negative? What kind of drugs am I taking?)

We're flying the family (Cameron, Casey, Ranger Mike, Kathy, BJ and me) out to visit my parents in a few days and I'm starting to dread the idea of flying in a plane. If my foot isn't propped up, it starts aching. Bone pain ain't fun, as I've shared before. I told my foot surgeon that I'm surprised that this seems to hurt more than when I had all those fractures in my face. He said it's because of gravity, and he's not surprised. OK, that makes sense, but I'm getting really tired of sitting with my foot up. Lessee.... choices:

1. Sit with my foot up
2. Cry (not really, but I feel like it!)

BJ wants to get a wheelchair for the airport, but I dunno.... knowing me, I'll refuse and will hobble along on my crutches.

I'm also getting cabin fever and feel bad about not being able to take Einstein to the dog park. I feel like a complete slug and can feel my hips getting wider as I write this. ::sob:: I'm afraid for my jeans and the stress I'll be putting on the seams. Hopefully they fit- shoot, that would be terrible to find out the day I'm supposed to fly out.

In happier news, I'm really excited that we're all going to see my parents and brother. The 'kids' haven't seen my parents in something like four or five years and they're in for a big surprise. My dad is no longer wearing glasses (cataract surgery), which he's worn since his early 20's; and has shaved his mustache (something he's had since before the boys were born.) I'm tempted to bring a pair of Groucho Marx glasses just to ease us into this new look.

I'm beyond sad that everyone won't be there, but am hoping that one day we can make that happen.

I finished an e-learning course for one of my more well known clients today and then it will be translated to French. I was supposed to bill part of it at this juncture and the rest when the French version is done, but the client asked me to bill for the entire thing today so it'll go into her May budget. Gee, twist my arm.

I guess that's my way of saying, I'm not really sitting here doing nothing. I was back at work the same week I had the surgery being a money making machine. Good thing nobody wanted a drug test!

The maids get blamed for an awful lot of stuff around here. Is something missing? It was the maids. Something wasn't put back where I like it? Those MAIDS! Broken faucet? The maids (this time it really was the maids, costing me almost $60.00 to fix it- but I was able to do it myself!)

Anyhoo- yesterday was cleaning service day, so BJ took Einstein to puppy day camp and I holed up in the guest bedroom with a sign on the door requesting that they not enter.

They left at about noonish, and I was hungry so decided to make myself something to eat. I was particularly looking forward to a beautifully ripened tomato with some freshly ground sea salt and freshly ground course pepper. I walked over to the kitchen counter where I'd left the tomato and noticed immediately that it was MISSING. What the WHAT? What the heck did they do with my tomato? I looked everywhere for it because those darned maids have been known to put things in weird places. I even looked in the bread box! No tomato to be found. I could only surmise that they helped themselves to my precious tomato.

Break my faucet? We're cool. Re-fold my towels the way I don't like them? Meh, not happy about it- but it only takes me a moment to fix. But STEAL MY LAST TOMATO? This is war!

I eventually got over it and made myself some home-made caramel corn. Good trade, dontcha think?

This is not the end to this story, but I'll get back to it in a minute.

BJ took me to the foot surgeon this morning to have the dressings changed and get a refill on the pain meds (a big shout out to whomever created pain meds, by the way!). The foot is healing nicely, and I'll probably get my stitches out next week. I'm on crutches for a while longer, must keep it dry at all times (sure makes showering fun), and need to keep it elevated and iced as much as possible. The incision was much longer than I'd imagined, so I guess my foot modeling career is going to be on hold.

The surgeon explained that the bone formation was really strange, explaining why he had to chisel so much bone out of my foot and why the surgery was more complex than he thought it would be.

He again assured me that this surgery, without a doubt, is going to take care of the issue and I should have no more pain as soon as things heal.

On the way home from the foot surgeon BJ said, "I owe you a tomato".



He shared with me that he meant to get an apple and wasn't looking closely, so instead packed my precious tomato in his lunch bag.

Is this the part where I share with him that I looked in the oven for my tomato? Nah- I kept that part to myself and simply thanked him for bringing my precious tomato home unharmed.

I've been told by doctors and nurses that I have a high tolerance for pain in comparison to most other patients, so I can't even imagine what this foot pain must feel like to 'normal' people. For the most part, the pain meds have kept the pain to around a six or seven, but there have been many times that I've been at a 10 and it literally makes me cry.

The foot surgeon said that the surgery was more intense than he thought it would be. For example, he wasn't expecting to chisel and remove bone. My friend Erika wrote on my Facebook status that chisel and bone should not be used in the same sentence. She's on to something...

BJ has been taking Einstein to doggy day camp while he works, which has been great. I typically interact with Einstein all day, and that's not something I'm capable of doing right now. Going to day camp gives him something fun to do all day AND he comes home pooped out from all that playing.

I knew it would be frustrating to not be able to care for myself. I have to use crutches to get around and it's nearly impossible to use crutches and carry anything around. I try to multi-task when I need to get up to to to the bathroom or something, so I don't have to get up too much. I'm supposed to keep my foot elevated 24/7 and it's immediately evident why that's necessary when I get up to do something. The pain level shoots from a 6 or 7 to a 10 immediately.

Being waited on probably sounds pretty dreamy to most people, but it's HORRIBLE for me. I hate it. BJ's been very sweet about the whole thing, bless his heart. I'm just not someone who likes that sort of thing. I make a horrible patient.

My follow-up with the surgeon is Tuesday morning, with another one in one week after that. I'm guessing the second follow-up is when the stitches come out.

I'm rambling and so I'll stop here. I just wanted to check in so y'all know I'm alive and (not) kicking.