Duck Waddling For Dummies

The sutures have been removed and the boot has been discarded and I no longer waddle around like a duck. Not that duck waddling is a bad thing it's just that when I waddle like a duck it throws out my back.

I can put on a pair of real shoes today and feel almost human again. So glad this foot surgery episode is over and done with! If there is a recurrence I might just have to live with the pain and suffering. No way in hill do I want to undergo foot surgery ever again.

So today I will focus on happy thoughts.

1. I am happy hubby finished with the bathroom and he did an awesome job. I love my new sink and new matching accessories.

2. I am happy the weather is warming up now I can wear my new Flt-flops and show off my new and improved walking foot. And my peach tree is loaded with blossoms.

3. I am happy Russ's service dog training is coming along so-fine. He is such a little sweetie and makes me smile.

4. I am happy that I won a writing contest about camping. It has inspired me to write more.

Silence is not always Golden

Yesterday, I had my third foot surgery within a sixth month period. On the same foot...........Needless to say I am not a happy camper. Life rolls along. I should be focusing on the positive aspects of this.....hhhmmmmm. What could they be? Stop whining and think good thoughts.
Okay, perhaps this will be the final surgery. YES!!!!! Much better attitude.

So there I was laying on that chair/table operating piece of equipment and it seemed very high in the air and who would be afraid of heights - ME. I tried not to look way far down or up at the table filled with medical instruments like scissors, blades, scalpels, tweezers, needles and sutures. Speaking of needles the needle the doctor was attempting to use looked like it could take down an elephant. And it was coming toward the bottom of my foot. Time to faint.

I have been through this procedure once before where my doctor operated on my arch right there in his office in a mini operating room. Brings back terrifying thoughts. He states it's safer not to put me all the way under with anesthesia. Not easier or less painful. But - who is the one on the table? Me. Not the good doctor.

The needle and the pain it causes is beyond nice words so I can't say how I really felt but one could use many four letter words and potty mouth words to describe it. And that gigantic needle stuck in the very tender part of my foot hurt like hill. Yes, I screamed and whimpered like a greased piggie. Right now after the fact it raises the hair on the back of my neck. The good doctor apologizes throughout the painful ordeal but lets me know it only hurts for a little while. Yeah - it's not him on the operating chair/table. My foot is now numb.

So the surgery goes off and is over and done with in a short amount of time. Then, the good doctor shows me the removed offending piece of meat. Red and ugly and bloody. Now that's something to make your day. I will never again eat red meat.........

Now lace up the incision time. He draws the black sutures up and holds it high in the air. I really don't need to be watching him thread another needle, so I count the holes in the ceiling tiles instead. I get to number 99 and feel a little pinch on the bottom of my foot. OMG!!!!! The numbness injection is wearing off and I can feel that needle piercing my skin. YIKES!!!!

Okay, my options would be to tell the good doctor that I am feeling a little sensation on the bottom of my foot every time that needle slices into my pink tender epidermis. And he would most likely plunge that big needle into the bottom of my foot again. No way in hill. I keep my mouth tightly clamped and bite my tongue. Sometimes silence is golden even though there is a little bit of pain.

On the mend just around the bend

The pain has eased up quite a bit. The ankle now hurts - possibly from the ten pound boot I have to wear to protect my surgery site. My neighbor let me borrow his walker - so much better than those crutches that ruin your armpits. He also let me borrow his wheelchair now I can do wheelies in the cul-de-sac.

We brought home a new family member yesterday adopted him from the shelter. A no-kill shelter to be exact. I feel good about that. Russ has a little separation anxiety and it was in full bloom last night. This will be something I can work at while I'm home recovering.
Enough writing for now time to go back to bed put my foot up and get some much needed sleep that I missed last night.

Day Two - post op.

Two days out from the foot surgery - hurts like hill!!!! Did not expect this much discomfort - dang!!! The Tylenol extra strength just doesn't touch it. Afraid to try the real stuff the doctor gave me. I am such a wimp.

Got out of bed today and put on clothes - no more jammies all day for me. Am scooting around the house on the rolling computer chair. The crutches hurt the underarms an awful lot.

The toes moved a half of an inch - still no feeling in the toes or the whole foot except for all the pain. I guess I won't be running in the Boston Marathon.
Bored - bored - bored. This will be a very long six weeks.

Life is not always Fair

I don't know if it makes me happy or sad but my surgery was cancelled and rescheduled for next week. I was ready to go on Wednesday - got myself all psyched up and everything. Now I have another week of anxiety to face for next week. How unfair is life?

Who said life is fair? No one - but sometimes you just kind of expect life to be a smooth ride with little or no stress. It could happen! I'm sure there is someone in the world who has a life like that. It certainly is not me. What would life be like to wake up without any wildfires to put out?
Blues skies and ocean breezes - no bugs - raspberry lemonade at your side, with your feet propped up and they don't hurt the house is shiny clean with the laundry done-folded and put away - the cat doesn't throw-up on the carpet, the hose doesn't burst in the side yard spewing gallons of water across the dry grass - flooding the neighbors yard and jacking up your water bill once again - the solar panels have not been blown off the roof in that thirty second wind storm and those dang grasshoppers never again eat all the leaves off your beautiful amaryllis flowers. Oh the joy of a fair life.

I am thankful it's Friday. Ready for a weekend of leisure and no thinking. AAAHHH the peacefulness of a weekend. Better get out my To-Do list.

Jitters and junque

The surgery is scheduled for 1 PM this afternoon. I have had nothing-nada- nothing - to eat or drink since midnight last night. I'm groveling here. I need a drink of water-----PLEASE!!!! Can't do it - can't break doctors' orders. Dang!!!!

Anyways I have this premonition or rampant thought blowing around in the back of my mind about this surgery. So I can't speak of it or wallow
in it lest it comes to fruition or gives me bad vibes on the operating table.
I'm pacing around the house like a caged rabid animal almost frothing at the mouth but there is nothing there to make froth. I need WATER. Afraid to take another dip in the pool - may not be able to contain myself surrounded by all that agua. I just might stoop to the level of slurping pool water. That's a disgusting thought.

I presume the only distracting alternative for me and my lack of food water survival is to go shopping. Spend money that I don't have and buy things that I don't really need but for sure it will fuzz up my mind about going under the knife.

Cross off the grocery store because I may attack the fresh vegetable section. I do need to make a post office trip - no food involved there. But OH NO it's right near Joe Muggs the coffee shop. Dang....... I can't do shoes because I won't be wearing a matched pair for several weeks. I could go clothes shopping since my body is slowly starving I might be able to squeeze into a smaller size. That's it I need to fill up my closet - wait it's already full. Dang.....
Okay I'll clean the house from top to bottom........

Earl of Sammich

The fear and uncertainty is beginning to gnaw at my innards chomping away at my strength and sensibility. Not that I have a lot of sense but the little that I possess is deteriorating at a rapid rate. Crazy thoughts are swirling around in my head and robbing me of my sleep. The unknown factor looms like a nightmare in the recesses of my jumbled mind.

My positive thinking has run off with Earl up the coast - onward to Canada - without a passport or a plan. Always have a plan - then a plan B. The eye of the storm tumbles aggressively - smashing my good thoughts - crumbling them into the sand strung along the east coast.

I'm beginning to wonder if my doctor is truly competent? Did he leave one of his instruments inside my foot on the last surgery? Is that the cause of the intense pain? Do I have some rampant bacteria inside my foot devouring all my tendons? The scary questions and thoughts are muddling my pea brain.

I can't wait till September 15 and I cannot wait till September 15. STOP those bad thoughts and images! The thought of the day is - Serenity Now! Whatever that means.

Old Goats Wife

I've been hobbling around for a week and a half with this foolish looking boot on my surgically impaired foot. It's big, clunky and quite noticeable. The fact that I walk like a drunken duck also plays into the scenario of - look at that poor woman.

The really odd and strange thing about this contraption on my left foot is the constant stream of comments. And the comments are so similar it's down right creepy. These are comments from total strangers, people you pass in the grocery store aisle, people holding open the door for you at the thrift store, the doctors receptionist and people in the waiting room of the dentists office.

The most frequent comment is - "You must have kicked him really hard." "What made you kick him?" "Did he deserve that kick?"

Is this a comment people would make to a man who is with a woman? "Did you kick her?" Is this comment a socially acceptable comment? Why does it seem okay to make a comment placing the blame on hubby? Sure, it seems funny but do they really think that? Is it just a conversation comment? How about - "Hello." And yes, I do think it's a bit funny when the comment is made. I laugh. Should I be laughing?

What are these people thinking about me? Do they really think I would kick my mate? Sometimes I feel like it. So, are they reading my mind? Perhaps I should wear my shirt in public that says - 'Old Goat's Wife.'

My tolerance level for pain is zip minus 10.6. I whine when I get a sliver in my thumb. Me and pain are not a harmonious match.

So, why did I opt for my 'wham bam thank you mam' bottom of the foot surgery in the doctor's office? Money - the root of all evil. Cheaper to have awake surgery in the office than put me out into blissland at the surgery center. Insurance and co-pays do not calculate in my budget.

How sad is that scenario that one has to choose the cheapest and not always pleasant method due to finances. I am thankful that I have insurance! I know many that have no health insurance but this goes back to my level of pain tolerance or lack there of.

Imagine a red hot poker coming at ya and searing right through down to your soul. That's how that dammmmm needle felt when doc jammed it into the sole of my hurting foot. The only good thing about the entire episode is my doctor. He is such a cutie. Although he said, "You'll only feel a pinch." His idea of a PINCH has no comparison to my idea of a pinch. Miles apart on that one.

Pain medication and my body are not compatible. I'd rather have my toenails ripped off than deal with the effects of pain medication on my body. I am such a brave soul that I opted for over the counter pain relief. Well, that works out like paddling a canoe down the rapids with a butter knife.

So, here I sit waiting for the healing to begin and the pain to take a permanent vacation, gritting my teeth and feeling 'woe is me.' I dislike whiners. This to shall pass but dang it hurts like %^&*^^####.

MBT shoes

Just started wearing my MBT sandals. Instant relief for my back pain. My sandals are not quite as ugly as some of the shoes.