The End Of The Beginning

And so we come to the end of the beginning and head into the beginning of the end.

While the die may be cast, the cast is at long last gone. My foot now is exposed to the light of day, the sweet goodness of the morning air and a couple of draining bandages. Oh yes, those two gashes on the side and heel of my foot are still large and in charge and demanding attention be paid. At least now when either of them bark at me I can see (sort of ) what is causing the problem. As well, I get the unique opportunity to have a nurse visit me at home to change the bandages. Who knew anyone still made house calls? 

Perhaps unrealistically I went to this appointment thinking the cast would came off, I'd just hop off the table and simply walk away. As I was quick to find out I was dreaming the impossible dream. The cast came off with no problem, the drain bandages in the gashes were still there and working, a whole lot of dead scaly skin was everywhere, the tan line on my leg was very noticeable (ah sunshine you did your job), but still I thought life was good. Dr. Knee replaced the drains, shaved off some of the dead skin, and wrapped my foot in an ace bandage. Then she said "Okay, stand up".

I want you to imagine the worst sprained ankle you ever had. The absolute worst, the one you thought for sure must have been broken with the bone sticking out. Remember how you felt when you stood on it and the pain seared through your entire body, like an electrical jolt to your central nervous system?

Now multiply that by a factor of one hundred. That's what I felt.

My knees almost buckled. I reached back for the stability of the exam table. Surely, I thought, the bones in my foot haven't knitted together properly. The muscles in my lower leg have atrophied and will never return. I am going to be walking with some kind of aid the rest of my life. As all of this is skidding through my brain I had to listen to this from both Dr. Knee and my wife:

"I can't believe how good that looks. Look at how you're standing, it's night and day from before"

Were they saying that just to make me feel better? Were they saying this sarcastically? The expressions on their faces indicated they were genuine in their platitudes. I just couldn't believe it. Looking down at my feet though I saw both sitting properly on the floor. Maybe there was something to their exhortations.

Dr. Knee asked me to walk. With the pain I was feeling I didn't think I could, but actually walking from one end of the small exam room to the other made my foot feel better. The muscles I was certain had atrophied jumped back to life as I limped along. Being conscience to keep my left foot flat on the floor as I walked, I thought I was doing pretty good. Dr. Knee informed me though that I was "leading with my hip" and not "allowing your foot to naturally fall from back to front".

In other words I was doing all the things I had done in order to walk before the surgery. I was going to have to learn to walk all over again. She gave me a referral slip to the guys we kiddingly called Hans and Franz back at my first post-op visit. They will twist and turn my foot and yell and tsk at me as I attempt to relearn the art of mobility. It's been 55 years since I've had to learn how to walk. Something tells me this isn't going to be as easy as the first time.

GROSS PICTURE WARNING: Just to give you an idea of what my foot looks like at this moment:

Updates Both Physical and Domestic

Back to the Dr. Knee today to remove cast #3 and wrap me in cast #4.

The main reason for today's visit was to check the progress, or rather the hope-fored lack of progress, of the infection she diagnosed last week. Sure enough the infection was in check, but the incision points were still pretty far apart. She is of the mind that they will close fast upon my getting permanently out of a cast. I certainly hope so or they'll be no open toed sandals for me this summer season. Come to think of it, I doubt there would be open toed sandals for me ever, so it really doesn't matter.

No x-ray today, I've had my maximum exposure to radiation for the month. It's an old joke, but how come the x-ray tech takes great pains to get behind the three foot thick wall before shooting the picture (like he's the great and powerful Oz), but gives you that little bit of lead lined cover up that only covers up the part of you that you most want covered up from radiation? X-Ray techs have no sense of humor though, they are the Captain Bringdowns of the medical profession. Either they act like you're not even there or they express frustration when your foot isn't EXACTLY on the right spot (like I have great control over a body part recently operated on). Said expression of frustration usually takes the form of a hissy fit while stomping around the great giant machine only they have been granted the secrets with which to operate.

X-Ray Tech humor

Anyway, I didn't have to see them today.

Before cast #4 was wrapped around me, I took the opportunity to stand with both feet on the ground. First I wanted to show Dr. Knee that I had been doing my exercises (I'm an approval whore, what can I say) and second I wanted to see how flat I could get my foot. As it turns out, pretty darn flat. Were it not for the extreme puffiness, the gross open wounds, and the scars from the other incisions you might think it was looking pretty normal. Well, next to normal.

So cast #4 went on and out the door we went, a new record for shortest time spent in Dr.Knee's office. I'm being promised this is the last cast. Hopefully next week I'll lose twenty pounds of fiberglass from my diet.

On the apartment flooding front, things are almost back to normal. The fans are gone, the carpet is dry, the padding has been replaced, one of the walls is patched, and the furniture is approximately where it belongs. Betsey was out of the house when the maintenance guy came in to put the furniture back, leaving me to try and remember where everything went. I only had him move the couch and the etajere a couple of times. I think I got it right the second time. Betsey is at least taking pity on her poor dumb husband and not telling me I got it wrong.

This is an etajere. Just in case you didn't know what I was referring to.

On a final note for today, I'd like to take a moment to thank our friends Tina and Mike who willingly put up with us for two dinners in a row, going out with us to a restaurant on Sunday and hosting us on Monday. I hope the scooter didn't get your carpet dirty. You guys are getting the Jacuzzi in heaven. Or your choice of other lovely parting gifts.