I NEVER THOUGHT

So, I’m hopping around the house and it feels like my other achilles is gonna snap at any moment?  Is this just the paranoia that comes along with this new injury?  Anyone else out there have similar thoughts as they’ve gone through this?

Trying to keep my sanity… I am a graphic designer and luckily can do a lot of work while sitting on my ass waiting for my achilles to heal.  I’ve been able to keep busy for the most part and these first (almost) two weeks have moved by alright. Thank God for college basketball and my Michigan State Spartans.  Hopefully this year as I cheer them on from the couch with my foot pilled proudly high atop a pile of pillows, coach Izzo can make another run!

Today is day 8 post op and this morning started out well.

Didn’t sleep very well.  Woke up a lot, but I got out of bed, ready for work and gave myself a pep talk… “look, we’re at day 8 already… only 62 to go until 10 weeks”

Yes, I am counting… it is March 31.

Got myself psyched up and had my Dad take me in to work (he’s currently laid off… Michigan is bad, but this has been a blessing in disguise). Got out of the car, up the stairs, across the lobby, in to the elevator, down to my office, three “steps” on my crutches out of the elevator and down I went.

Fell right on top of my foot.

Felt weird and hurt quite a bit and I laid there on the floor for a while when one of my student employees (I work at Michigan State University) came around the corner and found me and got me up and in to an office chair.

Scary.

Called the doctor’s office from the chair and called my dad who was only a few minutes gone. Doc said “come right in.” Went in to the doctor for him to check me out… I’m in a boot instead of a cast and I was sure that this decision had now just come back to bite me in the ass.

Everything checked out alright. Still in tact… and so goes day 8 post op.

Well, made my first entry this afternoon and was hopeful I’d have some new folks to chat with today.  If you get a chance and are an “old pro” or a “recent inductee” please feel free to comment on my blog.  I’d love to hear from people out there that are going through this with me… hoping and praying that they will wake up tomorrow, one day closer to getting off the crutches and back to “reality” (whatever that may be now).

Taking the Jeopardy online test in a few minutes… should be a good distraction for a while.

Well, It was one week ago Sunday… January 18, around 7:00 p.m. when it happened.  I remember it vividly (as I’m sure you all do, those of you who are among my fallen brethren and reading my introduction into this strange new world).  

Indoor soccer. Second half. About 5 minutes in.  POP! and down I went. So strange. Had been playing really well too.  First half played lights out. Scored three goals. Second half started out well and had already a few shots on goal when I went down.  Felt like I had been kicked as hard as I could possibly be kicked by someone… someone wearing soccer cleats… kicking me with their toe directly into the tendon.  I remember the sound too.  Like two plastic shinpads colliding. Strange sound indeed.  All the more reason why I thought I had been viciously tackled from behind.  Someone had to have taken me out, but why?  It’s just a men’s over-30 soccer game… who gives that much of a shit to take someone out like this?

Thoughts swirled through my head as I SWORE like never before from the turf.  Picture the scene in “A Christmas Story” when Ralphie finally confronts Scott Farkus where he is pummeling him and spewing forth curse after curse… that was me.  That day will live on in infamy as “The Scott Farkus Affair.”

That is how I come to you all now… this day will live on in infamy.

So, here I sit. Finding you all one week to the day after my surgery. Still depressed. Still having anxiety attacks (oh yeah, that’s a whole other story) and searching for answers from the cyber world.

Please, I implore upon all of you… share with me your wisdom. Your well-wishes. Your pick-me-ups and get over its… and stop your bitching-ees.  Wait, that last one doesn’t make sense?  You know what I mean.  Please, I’m looking to you to help me through these next months of pain and rehab with any advice or avoidances… anything really.  Just help.  I feel alone, scared, angry and confused and I’m definately freaking out a bit.