ΟstǝøʍyƜhat?: Actual update

My leg feels like a lump of cement. Literally. Pun intended.

The soreness I had in my leg with the last cast has completely gone away; the muscles in my shin no longer hurt. This is wonderful. Yes, it is at the cost of walking on my leg, but less pain/discomfort and the ability to shave is worth it. It’s not like I go out much anyways so I don’t actually need to walk on it (unless there is a zombie apocalypse, god forbid, because I would be the first to die. You know the saying right? You don’t have to be the fastest; you just can’t be the slowest. Right now, I am the slowest…), and I have had enough crutching experience over the years to know how to adapt to most situations. I did have a lot of pain in my ankle at first as my leg adjusted to the lack of extra stability that the cast provided. Even getting socks on hurt for a few days, but now things are smooth sailing. My leg definitely does not feel normal. I can tell that there is something in there that normally (ok, never) is not. There is a heaviness although not so heavy that my leg drops down on its own accord if I hold it up. It is just enough to feel off whenever I move the leg, so I definitely move it more slowly than I do the other one. I can also feel the muscles try to get to their normal position when I move my leg or foot. The bone cement is thicker than the bone that came out, so this is not possible. As a result, I feel a lot of popping and grinding in my leg as the muscles and ligaments slide over the bone. This is not a pleasant sensation and I look forward to it being gone after surgery number five. The only really weird thing I had going on with my leg for a day or so after the cast was removed was a lack of muscle strength. My brain would tell my leg to move off the bed and hold itself in the air. Then I could see my leg doing just that and the muscles tightening around my ankle to hold my leg/foot up. But as soon as my leg was off the bed it would instantly drop down, like a bag of rocks, or cement… wait a minute!

In all seriousness though, my leg is feeling pretty darn good, even if a bit strange. I have less pain now than I have in a very long time, and I am talking way back (probably over a year), not just since the last surgery. I do get bone pain occasionally where the bone was cut, but you kind of get used to it after a while.

Other than telling you what my leg feels like, why I am posting another update? I mean, I literally posted one for last Friday twenty minutes ago. And since I am trying to “hide” from my leg issues, why the extra seemingly unnecessary update? Good question. Glad you asked!

Early this afternoon I got a call from my orthopedic surgeon’s office. Gulp. Those calls can never be good. The number came up as unknown, so I was tempted to hit reject on my cell. But I didn’t. Most spoofed numbers/scams come up with a number. Those numbers usually result in a “can’t be completed” message if you try to call them back, but a number they are none the less. But if past experience has taught me anything, it is that hospital numbers always come up as unknown, and since this was within regular hospital business hours and my cell is the main contact number the hospital has, it was not entirely out of the question to get a call even though I wasn’t expecting one. So I answered, and immediately regretted it. It was, indeed, the hospital. I have had this happen before. In 2012, surgery number three was rescheduled do to “staffing issues” due to the Easter long weekend. So instinct told me what my surgeon’s secretary was going to say before she said it. Surgery has been rescheduled for Nov. 25^th. So much for surgery number five being earlier than first anticipated. August 26^th to November 25^th is exactly three months. So I won’t get my external fixator off until the very end of March, if all goes as expected. I was polite on the phone. Once I hung up there were tears. Many tears. Apparently the surgery will take longer than is allowed in the operating room my surgeon scheduled, so he needs to schedule another room. That room is not available on the 19^th, so the surgery has to be rescheduled. So surgery is now on Nov. 25^th. The upside, if there is one, is that I can now go to a Christmas craft show I have gone to with my mum every year since I started university in 2010. That, and surgery will be at 9:00 instead of 8:00, so I won’t have to be up at 4:30.

Totally not worth it though. You might think “It’s only a week, not a big deal,” but in the world of chronic illness and dealing with something for almost ten freaking year, an extra week is a big deal. I am stressed and worried and afraid. I am waiting for something I can only describe as wholly unpleasant and nerve wracking. I am waiting for a surgery that won’t make me feel better; if anything, I know it will make me feel worse. I won’t have pain for a week or two followed by a return to normal life; I will have pain for four months. Enough pain to get narcotics the entire time, only to be followed by more surgery. I have been psyching myself up to walk (erm, hop) into that OR for weeks. It takes everything in me not to phone the hospital and say “screw it, cancel the whole thing.” I, for once, am being brave. And now I have an entire extra week to anticipate all the fixator fun (which isn’t fun at all) that awaits me. So it is a big deal and I cried. And then I was grumpy for a while, not quite pleasant to my mum or the friend we have visiting from the States. And I am usually pretty damn pleasant. And there we have it, back to that other post – my doctors can ask me how I am doing when I see them, they can prescribe medication, order scan, monitor lab results, but they can’t make things ok. And I don’t feel ok with any of it. It would be wrong if I did because it is all so far out of the normal. All I want is to be healthy, normal, sunshine and happiness, excited for my future, having fun hanging out with friends, dating, studying. So many normal average things. I want to make my own cup of tea, damn it! That’s it. If there is anything I want to do it is to make my own cup of tea, pour it into a thermos, and go for walk, crunching over the curled brown leaves on the ground. And I can’t do that, and rescheduling surgery just adds more time to all the things I cannot do.

And that's it. Lots of pouting, lots of venting. I will feel better tomorrow, once the new surgery date has sunk in and I have accepted it. No sense worrying about the things I can’t control, and that seems likes pretty much everything these days. I think it is time for bed now.