You put what on your crutches?

When life gives you lemons, throw them back and play Angry Birds!

As some of you may already know from other sites, I have recently been trying to figure out which type of crutches I should be using – axillary (underarm) or forearm. I am only two months into this round of broken leg related nonsense (seriously! Who would have thought a broken leg could cause so much trouble a decade later?), but I am already dealing with some crutch induced issues. Some of these issues include sore hands and calluses on my palms, stiff shoulder and back muscles, rough patches of skin along my rib cage where the crutches rub when I walk, and occasionally wrist pain. Clearly the underarm crutches I have been using are causing some problems. And I still have at least another six months on them to go… If this was just a regular plain old sprain or broken ankle I would suck it up and deal. I mean, I would be better in what? Six weeks, two months tops? But I am in this for the long haul, so toughing it out isn’t really an option.

The responses I have received have been really helpful. Some of you suggested things I had never considered. One person, for example, suggested doing whatever yoga moves I can with just my upper body/arms. I had started doing yoga in the summer but gave it up when I started to feel really sick with the bone infection and then got the dreaded PICC line. Continuing yoga with just my upper body will be a great way to help deal with some of the muscles stiffness. I am so fortunate to be part of several online communities that provide advice and support.

For now I have decided to stick with my underarm crutches despite the inherent problems. Although I would prefer to switch for forearm crutches, after hearing everyone’s replies to my questions and doing some research on the grand master of all knowledge that is Google I don’t think this is my best interest right now. While forearm crutches are supposed to be better for your posture, increase one’s agility, and eliminate the risk of nerve damage from supporting your body weight with your armpits, they lack the stability I need at this time. Being unable to put any weight on my right leg, the underarm crutches offer more stability and some added security in case I fall. I will still discuss the crutch issue with my orthopedic surgeon. Once I get my external fixator I should be able to bear some weight on my leg, so the forearm crutches might be a viable option again. But for now the underarm crutches are where it’s at.

Aside from considering the practical use of crutches, I have also been looking at crutches from an aesthetic viewpoint. Yes, that’s right; I am vain enough to think of my mobility aid, on which I am 100% reliant unless I don’t mind hoping everywhere or scooting around on my butt, in terms of style and fashion. We all know that crutches are boring. They are gray and drab and clunky and match pretty much nothing in your closet. They are meant to support your weight and get you from point A to point B and nothing more. So why should they be anything else then cold hard metal? They are an assistive device, not a fancy hat or five inch heels. On top of that, most people are only on them for a short time. As long as they do what they’re made for, that’s all that matters. But as previously said, I am in this for the long haul and I am trying to live as normal a life as possible despite the tibia-less mess I find myself in. I am also trying to make the best of a nasty situation in order to keep my spirits up. Because let’s be honest, saying that missing your tibia and external fixators are scary and unpleasant things is an understatement.

As a result, I have been looking at new crutches online. And I am not talking about your standard ‘you can buy them at the drugstore drab gray crutches’ either. I’m talking nice fancy ones in epoxy-coated colours. I have found two sites that offer crutches in various colours. If I had to choose, I would get them in red (link can be found here). The problem is, after I convert the currency to Canadian and add shipping and handling, the total is close to 100$. That is a lot of money just to add some colour to my sticks when my trusty old crutches which I have head for 9 ½ years are holding up just fine. It’s also a hard cost to justify when you aren’t working and are supported by your parents (nothing like bone infections to strip away your independence). So no fab sticks for me.

I did, however, have a cunning plan. Armed with nothing but my crutches and my debit card, I headed to the local dollar store. I wasn’t quite sure what I was looking for, but I had a vague idea surrounding duct tape and stickers. And the dollar store did not disappoint! I found Angry Birds wall decals.

Once pack of stickers.

So the first achievement was actually finding something that I liked enough to stick to my crutches. The next hurdle would be seeing if they actually stuck to the crutches, and if they did stick, would they stay in place or peel off within several minutes. I did, for example, also buy snowflakes designed to go on a window. Although these where sticky enough, they were too thick to actually wrap around the crutches. I was pleased to see, however, that the angry bird stickers stuck to my crutches quite well. 

In order to try this project your self, you well need your trusty crutches, several packs of stickers (I used one pack per crutch, although the biggest angry birds where actually too big, and bought one extra pack in case things fall off over time), scissors, clear packing tape to over the stickers, and a ruler or sharp edge to smooth out the stickers/tape.

Here is one of my crutches before I began, in all its gray glory...

Please excuse the tape around the padded parts. I need to replace them as they do wear out after a while and fall off while you crutch along.

And a comparison between the two crutches once I had gotten one one done. Starting to look much better! I wasn't 100% convinced at first, but the more I got done, the better it looked.

Here are some shots of the crutches once I was done applying the stickers. I got creative with them, even adding some comic book style expletives. 

 

 

The final step was to cover everything in clear packing tape. Doing this will prevent any of the stickers from peeling off over time. Even just after applying the stickers, the ones that brushed against my sides as I walked started to peel at the edges. This is in part because the stickers are meant to be flat, so they bounce back a bit after you wrap them around the crutches. The tape will prevent this from happening, protect the stickers from the weather (rain, snow), and give everything a nice clean professional look. The entire project only too me a few hours. The most tedious and time consuming part was wrapping everything in packing tape, but that is worth doing so the stickers don't peel off.

The finished product! I am really pleased with how they turned out. It's as if I have custom designed crutches! Now when people ask what happened to my leg, I can point to my crutches and say I was attacked by angry birds XD And they were a lot cheaper than the nice red crutches I saw online. I had the scissors, packing tape and ruler lying around at home already so I only needed to buy the stickers (1.50$ each). 4.50$ was a lot more affordable than 100$. When life gives you lemons, throw them back and play angry birds!

 A note on the stickers: for best results, find stickers that do not have a white border around them. The angry birds stickers I used worked so well because the border around the stickers was clear, so you don't actually see the border, just the gray of the crutches underneath. This makes it actually look like their are angry bird on the crutches, instead of angry bird stickers.

Another note: Depending on he footwear I am wearing, I adjust my crutches between to different heights (5 2'" and 5 3"). As a result, I also adjust the hand grips. When you are decorating your crutches and then wrapping them in packing tape, it is important not to place any tape over the holes at the height level(s) you require. Instead, I carefully cut out small stripes of tape to go around them. This way my lovely angry birds are still protected in tape and I can still easily adjust my crutches when necessary. 

When life hands you lemons...

I am going to try to make customized t-shirts before my next surgery.
One will have a picture of a tibia above the phrase “Keep calm and grow a tibia”.
The other will read “It’s going tibia okay”.
I will then wear them to the post-op appointments with my orthopedic surgeon and infectious disease specialist.

When life hands you external fixators, make punny T-shirts?

Edit: Some more ideas I have been thinking of...

"I'm fixated on you!"
"Love makes tibias grow"

I found a great drawing online that shows (step by step) how the the fixator works to regrow bone. I think I might put that on the back of every t-shirt. That way when people inevitably ask what the giant metal thing sticking out of my leg is I can just point to the back of my shirt. Let's be honest, distraction osteogenesis and external fixators can be confusing concepts, especially for those hearing about them for the first time. I mean, I know all about fixators now, but up until a few months ago I had never actually seen one. And I have been visiting one orthopedic surgeon's office or another for almost a decade now. They are not really common, so it makes sense that most people have no clue what on earth they are.

Hopefully the t-shirts will be a fun way to make an icky situation (and the awkward moments when strangers ask about my leg) a little bit less, well, awkward!

You broke it how? - How to reply to questions about yoru health

The next time somebody asks me what I did to my leg, I will tell them that I was attacked by beavers.

I’m not joking. I like to believe that everyone is good intentioned and caring, but that is not true. Some people are just nosey pricks.

I went to the mall for several hours this afternoon. This was a huge accomplishment for me. Not only did I have the physical strength to crutch around for about 3 hours (with a few breaks here and there of course; thank god for benches!), but I did it on my own. That’s right! I braved the outside world. Alone.  For the first time since surgery. On crutches. Without a tibia!  And I had a really good time as I got some of the last things I think I need for my ex fix surgery while being surrounded by other human beings.

What I noticed from my perspective as the cute chic on crutches slowly making her way through the mall was that everyone is extra nice to you when you are injured.  I have several theories on this.

One: people are nosy and they feel like they can get you to tell them about your health if they are nice to you. It seems that when some people open a door for you, they don’t do it out of the kindness of their heart or because they have good manners. They actually secretly expect you to tell them all about your health in return.  As if opening a door is a tool they can use to barter for personal information. I don’t like these people.

Two: there are folks out there who believe that your crutches scream something more than an injured leg. They see the crutches (or a wheelchair) and assume that you also have something else going on, like a hearing impairment, blindness, or a low IQ. They often assume that you have issues regarding your cognitive abilities because you are on crutches/in a wheelchair. As a result, they talk loudly, slow their speech, use simple language, and smile broadly at you like they would a preschooler. They smile at you because they feel sorry for you because they assumed you have a disability. And quite frankly, who is going to be mean to the crippled girl? I don’t like these people either.

Three: This group of people assumes that you are injured because you are an idiot. You are stupid enough to do something so idiotic that it resulted in physical harm. They are not smiling at you because you are stupid, but because you are stupid enough to severely injure yourself. They feel bad for you (and your stupidity), so they smile. I am not sure what I think about this group yet.

Four: The only ones I actually like – the people who are friendly because they either actually care, they have been exactly where you are right now so they completely understand how big a deal it is to be at the mall, on your own, on crutches, or they are simply decent human beings. These are my type of people.

At the end of the day, I can’t change whatever it is that motivates people to be nice to me while I am dealing with my tibia-less mess. Even if I could and wanted to, I don’t think I have the energy to try.  What I do know is that right now I can use all the love and kindness (real or not) that I can get. So whether someone holds a door open for me and smiles because their mama taught them right, they are genuinely decent or friendly human beings, or they have some burning desire to know why I am on crutches instead of walking on my own two feet, I will accept it and be glad of it too.

That doesn’t mean, however, that I will tell everyone who asks what actually happened to my leg. People are always going to ask; that is inevitable. Be it now while I am on crutches, in four months when I am well into my sentence with the external fixator, of in five years when I am at the beach and people see my misshapen and scarred leg (and trust me, there are plenty more scars to come with the next surgery), questions will be asked. And how I answer those questions will depend on things like how I am feeling and the context of the conversation. While at the mall today, for example, numerous people asked me what happened to my leg. I was not so inclined to explain the whole tale to the stranger in the elevator who would likely walk away within thirty seconds anyways once we reached the next floor. I was, however, more willing to discuss my situation to the friendly cashier at Winners who told me about her own experience with crutches.

I often find myself in a somewhat unique situation when I tell people what happened to my leg. When you see someone on crutches, what is your first thought? It is likely somewhere along the lines of “How did they get injured?”, “What’s wrong with them” or “Hey, they probably broke an ankle or tore a ligament!” People approach each situation with a framework that helps them classify things. They see a cast and they automatically know something is probably broken; they see crutches and they expect a broken leg, a sprain, or a torn ligament. So they expect my answer to include one of those things. This makes sense because the things I listed are the most common reasons a person is on crutches. What people don’t expect is for me to say “I am missing my shin bone”. This is a statement they have probably never heard before (from my knowledge, losing chunks of bone doesn’t happen to people that often). So when people hear this, it doesn’t fit into the framework they have regarding crutches and as a result they often don’t know how to process this information. Some of the most common response I get from people are “Huh?”, “Really”, and  “Oh!?!”. It is at this point that most people either become silent or turn away. If they do continue to ask questions, I inform them that I lost six centimeters of my shin bone due to an infection that kills bone and that my leg is held together with bone cement, but my doctors are hopeful that we can regrow the missing section of my tibia. Because that is the bare amount of information that will actually explain my situation. Cue the response, “What”? People don’t know that bones can get infected and die. They don’t know that bone cement exists. All they hear is “There is cement in that girl’s body… what?” They don’t know that bone can be regrown. So the answer to simple question of “What happened to your leg?” completely floors people. Everything about my situation is not common knowledge the way knowledge of a broken leg or sprain might be. As a result, the entire conversation went from well meaning (or nosiness or feeling sorry for me), to pointless. People have places to be, they don’t understand the things I am talking about, and they are probably caught off guard that I didn’t give a common answer like “I broke my leg falling/sports/stupidity”.  The conversation is pretty much over before it has begun.

So it is much simpler to have a response like “I was attacked by an angry herd of beavers,” and then to politely say that I prefer not to talk about my health at the moment. This way, my privacy is maintained, I don’t blow someone’s mind with the news that you can actually regrow bone, and we have all had a good laugh at my hilarious answer for what happened to my leg.

So, how did I actually break my leg way back in 2006 and why am I on crutches because of it now? Beavers I tell you! An angry heard of beavers who came back to exact even more revenge for me foolishly dismantling their favorite dam for fire wood.

Hygiene? Remind me what that is again...

I have finally started working on the FAQ/advice portion of my blog. The first things I have added are some tips (alright, alright, a tone of tips) regarding hygiene while on crutches. You can find it under the FAQ tab, but for convenience sake I have posted it below as well. This entire broken leg/bone infection experience has given me a lot of new experiences and warped my sense of humor a bit, so I hope you find it both useful and amusing. It is super lengthy, so the are no obligations to read it, I swear!

Having a leg injury may seem like the perfect excuse not to shower. At first you might revel in the fact that you can throw social convention out the window and sit in your pajamas for days on end, binge watching Netflix in your mom’s basement (because let’s be honest, you will probably need way too much help in those first weeks post injury to be able to live alone), while other people bring you ice cream and cater to your every whim. Trust me, it is not worth it.

First of all, while your friends or relatives will likely be more than willing to help you out, you don’t want to take advantage of this. Remember, they are your friends (or family), and they like you (be it due to mutual interests or familial obligation) for a reason. And that reason is not because they enjoy bending backward to your whims, like bringing you bonbons and a super frappe latte whatever at three in the morning.

Second, your family/friend/significant other will start resenting you pretty quickly if you’re sitting on their coach in your stained sweat pants with your greasy hair and smelly armpits yelling for more hot chocolate and bacon at 6:45 in the morning while they scramble to find a clean dress shirt for work and beat the morning rush. Your job is to get better, not to be somebody’s adult child.

Third, you might have thought it would be nice to let your hygiene slide for a day or so when you were able bodied. Everyone wants the occasional day off to break up the monotony that work can be, and that is easily done by calling in sick, donning your flannel sponge bob pajama pants, letting your bed head be, covering your self in orange Cheetos stains, and leading Mario to his princess all afternoon. But being dirty is not so fun when you lose the ability to wash up for weeks on end. When I am dirty, I am cranky and my whole world outlook changes. I feel like a shut in and start resenting the rest of the world. I lose any desire to get out of the house and more significantly, my perspective of my situation changes – my world becomes a black hole; I focus solely on my leg and worst case scenarios and lose sight of everything else going on in my life. A lack of personal hygiene can definitely have a negative impact on your psychological wellbeing in this already trying time. When I am clean, I feel better and more optimistic about my situation. I am also more prone to testing my independence, which will further your confidence and help ease some of the resentment you incurred from your friend/family member/significant other because of your never ending demands for more bonbons.

Fourth, I waste more energy thinking about my hygiene than it actually takes to shower, brush my hair, etc. Plus, sometimes piping hot water in the tub is the one thing that can actually make me feel better. A bit of thinking ahead and creating a new routine based around you being on crutches can make taking care of personal hygiene simpler, less time and energy consuming, and almost enjoyable. It will definitely be worthwhile.

Obviously, personal hygiene is pretty important. I am a firm advocate that it shouldn’t be thrown out the window just because of an injury. That doesn’t mean, however, that there aren’t allowances that should be made for someone recovering from an injury or surgery.

At the end of the day, you have or someone else has somehow managed to hurt your leg so badly that you can’t walk without crutches and now your mobility is drastically impaired. From personal experience I know that the first weeks after injury/surgery are the hardest. In those first few days, even the simple task of lifting your leg off the mountain of pillows it resides on 24/7, like the royal monarch of body parts it is, may be a daunting and virtually impossible task. The pain can be overwhelming and the psychological prospect of pain upon moving even more so. Once the pain (and likely the shock of the stupid thing you did to get injured) has worn off after a few weeks, your crutches will become your number one foe regarding hygiene – they are cumbersome, slow, and consume about 100% of your energy. But no matter what, there are many ways you can help hygiene win what seems like a losing battle. And that is the purpose of this post.

Over the years I have gained a lot of personal experience dealing with leg injuries/surgery. And I do mean a heck of a lot of experience – from breaking both legs simultaneously in 2006, four surgeries (with more to come), and seventeen months on crutches over the years (and counting!), I know what I am talking about. During the past decade I have amassed a mountain of wisdom regarding living on crutches and with a leg that, at times, is good for literally nothing other than weighing me down. And I am going to share those nuggets of wisdom with you.

Safety

Remember, your physical mobility is greatly impaired by your inability to walk and your cognitive functioning probably is too depending on how much pain medication you are on. Crutches and grogginess together make an already bad situation worse. You are not only a danger to yourself as you stumble around, but also to other people and any inanimate objects in your direct vicinity. Before you can worry about your hygiene, you need to make sure you have a clear path to the bathroom.

You will want to move any obstacles and tripping hazards in your way. This includes rugs, shoes, dirty laundry carelessly thrown on the floor because of your inability to actually get to the hamper in the bathroom, the laundry hamper itself, your cat missprincessalicethefifth, crawling toddlers… You get my drift.

In the bathroom itself, all of the floor mats need to be removed. Crutches can catch on them, causing them to slip from under you and then you to gracelessly crash to the floor, potently causing more injuries and certainly more pain in the process. If your bathroom is small, it might be a good idea to move the laundry hamper as well.

You will want to procure a bath mat for the tub or shower. Nothing says danger to those of us with injured legs like a slippery wet surface in a box enclosed with tiles and nowhere to grab onto in case we fall. I have a super cool green crocodile bath mat from Ikea, but any bath mat will do. I’m sure adhesive rubber ducks would work just as well.

If you are really unstable or worried about falling in the tub (especially for those who are older, accident prone, or have multiple physical impairments), I recommend getting a grab-bar for the shower. Do not, and I can’t stress this enough, so I repeat, do not hang off of the towel rack. It is not designed to hold your weight and will likely rip open the wall as you desperately cling to it for dear life, leaving you sprawled on the bathroom floor. If you do this and it does happen, please don’t do it directly after a shower. There is nothing worse than your dad finding you sprawled over the bathroom floor than your dad finding you naked on top of the towel that once covered your now naked butt on the bathroom floor, unable to get up yourself.

Bathing

The process of bathing while on crutches/in a cast/recovering from surgery is a daunting task. The forethought that is required, risk of getting you cast wet or falling in the tub, physical energy required, and inevitable pain from moving your affected limb make it easy to defend your stance on not showering. As previously mentioned, however, hygiene is important. It is also very achievable with some basic planning. Before you begin on your shower adventure, make sure you have taken care of any safety issues, as discussed above.

If you are still in the early days of your injury/surgery, it might not be feasible to get out of bed long enough to shower. Not to worry. If nothing else, past experience has taught me that wet wipes are your best friend. They don’t leave you sopping wet in bed, they come in a variety of pleasant scents, and some of them even contain soap that doesn’t have to be washed off with water. If you are feeling more ambitious, you could opt for a bowl of warm soapy water and a wash cloth. Regarding the greasy mess that has become your hair, there are numerous brands of dry shampoos out there. They come in a variety of forms, from powder or lotion, to aerosol spray. The effect won’t be as great as a shower but the results are relatively good. And at the point you finally feel up to washing your hair, anything is better than nothing.

Before you shower, and it will be a shower because casts can’t get wet and surgical incisions often can’t be submerged in water for at least four weeks post op so baths are out of the questions, there are some preparations you need to make. As previously mentioned, make sure you fix any safety hazards, purchase a bath mat, and install any grab bars if necessary. You will also need something to sit on while in the tub/shower. Obviously standing on one leg, possibly in a narcotic induced fog, on a slippery wet surface is not a good idea. You will need something to sit on. Shower chairs are available at any health supply store. If you don’t want to shell out the cash, opt for something like a plastic chair or a cooler (that is what I use. I just have to empty the water out of it after each shower). A removable shower head, on the other hand, will be worth the money. That way you can control the water and rinsing your hair and back will be super easy instead of contorting your body to get under the stream of water spouting from the shower head mounted on the wall.

As you make your way to the bathroom, assemble all of the things you need. This is important. If you forget your clean underpants or t-shirt, you are out of luck. There is no point putting on your old dirty clothes that you have probably been wearing for a week and are now covered in sweat stains due to the crutches because that will undue the clean feeling you got from the shower. I wouldn’t advice crutching around naked to retrieve your things unless you are absolutely sure you are alone. This brings us to another important point. I try to only shower when other people are home and I always leave the bathroom door unlocked while I shower. That way, if anything goes wrong, someone can always get to me quickly. But back to collecting your stuff. Do your absolute best not to forget anything. This means towels, clean clothing, underwear, socks, any toiletries not kept in the bathroom, q tips, special products you might want to use, hairbrush and comb, etc. You will also want to make sure you are stocked up on shampoos, body wash, etc. There is no point going through the whole process of getting in the tub only to find out you don’t have any conditioner left. If you have a cast/dressing/surgical incision/wound that can’t get wet, don’t forget the duct tape and garbage bag or cast cover either. I kept those in my bathroom drawer, along with scissors, so they were always on hand. The scissors will help you remover the tape and bag once you have showered.

Make sure that your towels can be reached from the tub and that your shampoo/wash clothes/razors/loofah/etc. are ready in the tub/shower. Sit on the toilet to undress yourself and, if necessary, apply your cast cover or duct tape garbage bag masterpiece. For those of you with PICC lines, make sure to put on your PICC line cover or wrap your arm in a combination of saranwrap, clear packing tape, and rubber bands. It is imperative above all else that the PICC line and dressing stay dry. If you have a walk in shower, simply use your crutches to get to your shower chair/cooler/large object to sit on. If you a have tub, pivot from the toilet to the tub (if possible, or lower yourself down onto the side of the tube with your crutches), then get your legs over the side of the tube and transfer yourself to whatever you will be sitting on.

Now it’s time to shower. Hot water never felt so good! Don’t worry about water usage or how long your shower is at this point. Chances are you might only be showering once a week instead of everyday like you used to. So take your time, enjoy, you deserve it after all the effort and planning it took you to actually get into the tub. Don’t think “I will shave my leg(s) next time,” because that might not happen for another week. Do everything: shave, loofah/exfoliate, wash your hair, use body wash, whatever it is you do to get clean.

Once done showering, turn off the water and grab a towel (hopefully you remembered to keep it within reach). Dry off as much as possible, including your garbage bag clad leg. Transfer from whatever you are sitting on to the side of the tub. Then swing your legs over. Before you do anything else, dry the bottom of your foot/feet so you don’t slip on the floor. Transfer to the toilet, cut off the garbage bag or take of the cast cover making sure not to get said cast wet, and then get dressed. If applicable, tend to your PICC line. If possible, rinse out the tub, hang up wet towels, or clean up after yourself in the bathroom in any way you safely can while keeping pain and energy levels in mind. This will help mitigate some of the resentment your family member/friend/significant other has towards you because of the bonbon eating stinky adult child thing.

Congratulations! You are now clean.

At this point, you have likely been out of bed for at least an hour. Make sure the floor is dry so that your crutches don’t slip and make your way back to bed or the couch. At this point you are probably exhausted so you have earned a good break. It is worth it though because you are clean! And clean contributes to happy, which ultimately promotes healing. Go ahead, have another chocolate. Just stay away from the Cheetos for a few days until you start mentally preparing for your next shower.

In between showers, which occurred every 4-5 days when I had my cast, I regularly washed my hair in the sink and wiped myself down with wet wipes. Due to this, I hardly ever felt truly dirty. Now that my cast is off and I am waiting for my external fixator surgery, I shower a bit more often. The effort is completely worth it.

Keeping you cast dry!

If you have a cast and/or surgical bandages, you can’t get these wet under any circumstance. And when I say never, I mean never. Nobody likes the smell of wet cast, and even worse than that is the smell of moldy cast. On top of that, over the weeks (or months) the skin on your leg will die, dry out, and flake off. It will have nowhere to go but the bottom of your cast. When this skin gets wet, it clumps together, and that is truly a disgusting sensation for the bottom of your foot. And don’t even get me started on the psychological aspect of being stuck in a gross cast for weeks on end.

Duct tape and garbage bags will be your best friends. Red Green would be proud. If you get that reference, good for you; if not, look up Red Green on YouTube. You will not be disappointed and you will find a new show to binge watch as you wait for your bones to knit together. The more duct tape you use the better. You don’t want to overdo it of course, but a little extra duct tape can be the difference between staying in the shower for five extra glorious minutes and having a sopping wet cast. I got my duct tape at the dollar store because it was cheap and came in fancy colours. When that ran out, I got the biggest role of regular grey duct tape I could find. I may have broken my leg and struggle to wear anything besides pajama pants, but it’s still nice to feel sexy! And nothing says sexy like flowery pink and blue duct tape, right?

Your other option is to buy a cast cover. They are easy to find on amazon or at your local health supply store. I have never tried one of these, but I had heard good things from others who have.

Cast hygiene

Hygiene doesn’t just refer to showering and clean clothes. It also refers to keeping your cast (or wound dressings) clean. When I got my first cast after surgery number four, one of the orthopedic technicians gave me a cast shoe. This thing had been a life saver. Think about it like this – your cast goes everywhere you do, including you bed, and the hospital bathroom. I don’t want my cast in my bed after the bottom of it has touched a dirty public bathroom floor. So the cast shoe was a god send. I highly recommend it to anyone who has a cast.

Speaking of cast hygiene, I stay inside when it rains and avoid mud and puddles. After several weeks, a dried out muddy cast gets smelly and fells disgusting both physically and psychologically disgusting. Add to that all the dead skin that has probably been collecting and you will probably start to get a bit claustrophobic. I know that I did. 

On top of all that, be aware of the surfaces you stand on. You might not venture out into the big wide world during the winter due to the risk of slipping on a patch of ice or crutching through thigh high snow, but other people, like your family member/friend/significant other do. When they get home, they will track snow and slush inside with them, which will then melt and create both a slipping hazard and the perfect place for your cast to become soiled, likely simultaneously. So beware of the front entrance to your house and any other area (like shopping malls, hospital waiting rooms) that might have wet, dirty floors. If you do venture out in bad weather, wear your cast show. If you don;t have one, you can always tape another garbage bag to your leg.

Other nonsense like brushing your teeth

Aside from showering, there is other nonsense like brushing your teeth that needs to be taken care of. It might seem like a good idea to forgo brushing your teeth while you recover from you injury or surgery. It can be frustrating trying to balance on your crutches while you reach for your tooth brush and toothpaste and then spend several minutes vigorously brushing away as the muscles of your good leg start cramping, your armpits start complaining as you lean on your crutches for support, and you start teetering like a log caught on a large rock at the edge of waterfall. If you find holding onto your crutches while doing all this too difficult, you could always set them aside and clench onto the bathroom counter for dear life. But given your narcotic induced stupor, this might not be the best idea. Despite difficulties, not brushing your teeth is not an option. First and foremost, you need to consider the impact that not brushing will have on your teeth. I have already been on crutches for two month since my last surgery with at least six more months to go. Not brushing for that long is not an option; I don’t want cavities or gum disease! Second, no matter how much you shower, you will still feel disgusting if that layer of plaque starts accumulating on your teeth. Nobody likes that peach fuzzy feeling as they run their tongue over their teeth. Third, I feel better about myself and less self-conscious around other people (like my doctors) when I have clean teeth and a minty fresh breath. This last point goes back to the psychological aspect of being clean. Do not underestimate this! If you can’t stand long enough to complete this task, my best advice is to either place a small folding chair in the bathroom that you can sit on while you brush your teeth and that can easily be stowed away when not in use or to put the toilet lid down and sit on that. If your toilet is too far away from the sink, have a small basin and a cup of water with you so that you can rinse and spit while sitting down.

Clean clothes!

I have always loved the smell of fresh laundry. It just smells so… clean!

There is no point in putting all that effort into showering if you are just going to put on those smelly dirty sweat pants you have already worn for a week. You might not think clothing gets that dirty if all you do all day is sit on the couch, but think about it. You are still wearing something 24/7. Sitting in one place, especially on an office chair, is going to bring you right back to your college days of three hour nonstop lectures on hard plastic chairs. I don’t need to explain what will happen. Plus, all that crutching around is going to make you sweaty, and sweaty equals smelly. Add to that, your clothing will get frumpy and covered in crumbs. And smudges… because you probably forgot napkins or paper towel when you decided to grab that bag of Cheetos. So clean clothing = good. Even if it is just another pair of clean pajamas, at least it is clean. Changing clothes will likely be difficult for the first few days as your struggle with pain management and/or a bulky cast, especially if it is the most evil thing ever devised by man… a full leg plaster cast. But pretty soon you will get the hang of it, so it will be worth it.

Changing out of your pajamas into other clothing (even sweat pants or a track suit) will do wonders for you psychologically. Getting dressed will help bring some purpose into your life (because binge watching Netflix all day every day is not that fulfilling) and help regulate your time. It will also make it easier to go out at some point and interact with other people. Nobody wants to be seen stumbling around outside in smelly Cheetos and sweat stained worn out pajama pants.

I recommend comfortable clothing, like pajama pants a few sizes to big (but not so big they become a tripping hazard), baggy sweaters and t-shirts, and slipper socks with anti-slip thingies on the bottom (because socks, a lament or tile floor, and a narcotic induced haze combined together is asking for trouble). Gee golly, thingies is actually a word and not highlighted by spell check. You really do learn something every day!

When it comes to clothing, choose simple fabrics like flannel or cotton. Anything that has rimples or pleats around you armpits is going to chafe as your crutches rub against you. You do not want to end up with blisters or a rash in your armpit. I have been there and done that. It was not fun.

Sometimes I find it is worth the extra energy to wear something nice and look good. Despite some initial trepidation that knee length skirts and crutches would not go well together, I found it looks quite good and, if you’re careful, you won’t end up showing your zebra print panties to the world by accident. A nice blouse or a sweater with a fancy neck line wont’s hurt either. Add some earrings, a scarf, and a cute wedge shoe (be super careful with wedges or high heels) and you are good to go! Putting effort into looking good can have a tremendous impact on your psychological wellbeing. Plus, nobody wants to see those minion pajama pants adorning your butt when you do finally get the courage (and energy) to leave the house.

You have to be really smart when it comes to clothing though. Too much clothing and you will overheat when you crutch along (crutch walking, especially when you are fully non-weight bearing, is hard work), but too little clothing and you will freeze when you reach your destination (it is really hard to keep up your body temperature if you don’t move very much). I suggest clothing that is light weight and can be easily removed, like a body warmer instead of a big old winter coat, and things that can easily be layered instead of one thick woolen sweater.

Your friend deodorant!

Deodorant is your new best friend. There is no way I can emphasize this too much. Using crutches is hard work. No matter what the weather, hot or cold, you will sweat like crazy. In the summer you will sway from your crutches on your armpits (the one thing you shouldn’t do because it can cause nerve damage) as you crutch along under the fiery sun in 40 degree plus Celsius weather. In the winter when you expect it to be cold you will have massive sweat stains and drench your three sweaters and super puffy winter coat that makes it hard to bend your arms far enough to hold your crutches properly because the physical exertion of using crutches completely trumps the wind chill.

Furthermore, you are pretty much getting a full work out as you crutch between the hospital parking garage and your doctor’s office. I swear the people who design hospital put such a large distance between parking and the fracture clinic because they know that people on crutches try to move as little as possible. I wouldn't be surprised if there is a conspiracy among doctors to get us more active.

And at the end of the day, crutches are really just two long sticks jammed under your armpits. Regardless of the weather or what you wear, this will cause you to sweat. If you don’t use deodorant, the padded parts under your arms will stink.

So, to sum it all up: crutches = hard work = sweating = smelly you! This will defeat the point of expending all that energy and time on bathing while simultaneously making your family/friend/significant other resent you because you smell like an adult child. Deodorant is you friend!

Makeup

I have never been a big fan of make up to begin with and I am even less so now that I am once more reliant on crutches. I suggest either completely avoiding it or using it sparingly until you are recovered enough to no longer need crutches. As previously stated, using crutches is physically exerting and makes you sweaty. Unless you like the look of concealer sliding off your sweaty red panting face, avoid make up. I am not saying to never use it, like a special event or party, but think carefully about it first.If you do use it, consider applying it once you have gotten where you need to go.

Whew. If you made it through all that, I applaud you. I obviously have way too much time on my hands right now. I do hope that you found this guide to hygiene helpful. I know that it can truly feel like a losing battle right after surgery/getting injured. But it will get better. As you physically start to feel better and gain experience with your crutches, you will find new ways of doing things that makes sense to you. You will find what works and utterly fails and how to save time.  And in the end, you will feel better. There is nothing wrong with letting hygiene slide a little bit after your physical abilities change. It is to be expected, but you don’t have to give it up completely, especially if you are in this for the long haul like I am. With such a long treatment plan/recovery period, life on crutches has become the new normal for me instead of a small bump in the road that will pass after a few weeks. I can’t live the next half year in sweat pants. I don’t mind some Cheetos stains occasionally, but I generally like to be clean!