This is going to be a unusual blog, it’s not going to take on the form of my usual, no it’s going to take on the form of a diary mainly to take the heat off myself, to feel better about my predicament, and to make humour out of something that only I feel the need to, enjoy as I walk you through the trials day to day of being in a cast.
I never quite figured how I at the age of 32, would find myself suddenly relying on others to get me through, how I would call on all training past and present medically to pull myself out of the predicament I only I would find myself in. It was suppose to be a simple trial ride, to discover if the horse and I could be friends, perhaps even bond to lifelong mates, he was good, smooth, and won his way to my heart quickly, until he refused. He refused to listen to my desperate pulling of his reigns to slow his intense trot to a walk. Sadly he ignored it, not for him but for me, reigns went loose, the stirrups too long, and before I knew it I was on the ground. He trotted off happily as if to say “well I didn’t want you anyway” I looked to my right ankle a swollen odd looking mess, a unique angle of 45 degrees told me what I didn’t want to know. It was broken and I was on the ground with a weakened left knee and broken ankle and a hell of long haul to get into the car. 20kms of bumps ensued before I finally reached the medical clinic, with a friend at the wheel, 20 long kms of no pain relief and every bump reminding me of my own stupidity. They cast it at 4am 8.5 hrs after the event, I had time to reflect, no time to sleep, and time to observe, because for now that’s all I can do.
I like to call it the awakening but was I really asleep ever to begin with? It wasn’t a nightmare, that confounded lump of plaster of Paris a constant reminder of the night before, it’s weight etching itself into my mind, then the medical professionals come over scrutinise the cast make comments, tell me their plans to cut it off, the cast not my foot. In my drugged state none of this is making sense and I don’t want it to either, I want them to leave me alone in my world of dispair until they finally say they will X-ray again and I can go home. This ordeal is not over, not by a long shot. I vaguely recall getting into my car with my driver at the wheel, I don’t recall the drive home. However I do remember the failure of my left knee on getting out and the shattering of my cast at the heel as I struggled to rebalance on something that quite simply didn’t want to work. My anger is not waning so I go to bed.
After having a wheelchair issued so I can get the important business done, toilet and showering, the real depression of it all sets in, I see outside, I can’t get outside. I can’t make myself a sandwich because things are not low enough, a jumper on the floor where my wheels get stuck is enough to send me into a rage, not that I can get angry that well, I plan to make the most of it, whatever the most actually is.
It’s odd, the nights are long and I spend more time awake watching movies to tire myself, I make plans for the future in my head, I make plans on how to move and my recovery, I stretch my toes forgetting about my ankle for a split second until the sudden pain reminds me, not that I could forget the weight, it’s still there. Jennifer Aniston has been music to my eyes as I have managed to watch her acting on several short romantic comedy’s that I find myself now watching. I decided to a short course, after all there is nothing else I can do. I finally remember the other actor and Vince Vaughn.
This long struggle.. I have mastered showering myself you’ll never understand the sheer excitement when you finally achieve something for yourself, the new appreciation I have for those in wheelchairs, even the cat has come back! To my side, problem is he now has a new favourite spot, my cast. My young son has found vivids to be exciting so now I have a decorative cast rather than a white one. Different, even the fracture clinic is looking exciting, the Pain to it however – isn’t.
I actually feel like I made headway today, I have had a good few nights with sleeping, and that on its own is a bonus. After making friends with this new lump of plaster, I had decided I had better become familiar with these two aluminium poles.. The fear of falling flat on my face firmly etched in my mind and sheer determination to master, what others would find easy, though they are not dealing with a twisted knee on the other leg as well. In a triumphant first, I have managed to spend almost 15 minutes with them, the struggle to stay upright has been an uphill one as. I fought the intense pain to fall over regain my balance and push on, this is a fight of both my will and the will of these so called poles that are meant to help me walk. I feel in time I will get there
Went to fracture clinic, where they replaced this old soft cast with a fancy purple one, in between gas for the pain relief while they attempt to straighten it out, I was ok, renewed enthusiasm with this new cast 🙂
Started mobilising adequately enough to almost believe I could do without the wheel chair feeling confident
Managing to move to the couch, bliss! And some walking around the house on the crutches
Went bad, I now rehurt my existing knee injury to the point where it is near impossible to stand least of all ergo to the bathroom without the aid husband. I suppose at least I get cuddles, but I feel so dejected I am hating this cast I am tearful and I am so sore. All that for wanting to go on the ride on mower and now the lawn, it’s heartbreaking, I felt once realistic but now I am back to square one and I just feel stink.