I had my surgery the week before Thanksgiving on November 21, 2008 and was put into a removable boot on December 29. During surgery, my doctor said that my tendon quality was very poor and that they were three times as inflamed as normal. He was not overly optimistic that my recovery would be a smooth one and introduced the possibility that I was at greater risk for a re-rupture. What else could I do but to hope and to go with the flow?
Instead of hosting a Thanksgiving luncheon for 50, we had others preparing our turkey for us instead. The holidays were a wash and the extent of my festive holiday spirit was limited to getting a pedicure with some flowery nail art since everyone was going to be looking at my foot anyway. This was pretty depressing for a person who regularly DOES deck the halls with garlands at every window, who has at least 2 fully decorated trees and numerous creche scenes placed on every household surface. Gone was the seasonal gift wrapper position at a high-end culinary store, not only for its generous employee purchase discounts, but more for the sheer joy of professional-standard gift-wrapping itself. Gone was the chance at a fifth Honolulu Marathon with the aim of shaving 15 minutes off my last year’s time, and it was truly a sad day when I had to suspend my YMCA membership.
Getting out of the cast, therefore, was a welcomed relief — no more plastic wrappings before bathing and I was more than ready to ditch those crutches. The incision was healing nicely and I spent a half hour in the shower exfoliating and making my leg look presentable again. My incision was drying up nicely except for the one spot that continued to drain even when I was in my hard casts. It was a step towards normalcy (no pun intended) — or so I thought.
It was a major milestone to be promoted to a boot, especially since we were flying out on New Year’s Day to Florida to go on an Eastern Caribbean cruise. (Yes, it’s kind of redundant for a Hawaii resident to vacation in the Caribbean, but it was for the in-laws who live in Florida). Nonetheless, it was a chance to enjoy not having to do housework on crutches, and I was ready to leave 2008 behind. My doctor was concerned about the long flights over the Pacific AND US mainland (plus a 6 hour layover in Los Angeles preceding a red-eye) and the swelling and pain associated with it. I was to continue using my crutches and to begin putting some weight on my foot, though I was advised to also listen to my body.
I used my crutches with my boot at the airports and limited my wheelchair requests, since the airlines were selective as to where they could/could not take me. Long story short, an airline has to “sponsor” your wheelchair use from one destination to another, i.e., you cannot go to the International terminal to dine there and return to a domestic gate unless you are traveling with an international airline. Fortunately, an airport employee recognized my plight and taught me what to say (as in “fib”) so that I would not have to take a string of shuttles to get back to my connecting airlines on my crutches. Had I known that some mediocre sushi costed $14, I would have settled for a simple Starbucks scone at the United terminal.
I took Aleve and removed the boot when I could during the flights. We left our home at 4:00 a.m. on New Year’s morning and finally entered our ship staterooms at 1 p.m. on January 2. My stitches were still looking okay, but my foot was very swollen because of all the walking and airplane pressure. It was indeed a long journey, and we looked forward to our first day completely at sea, with no port stops, to catch our bodies up to six time zones. I dared not to put any pressure on my boot and kept with the crutches.
On January 4, at our first port stop, I noticed my incision area becoming irritated because of the extra sponge inserts’ snug fit. I put some Neosporin on it and occasionally cleaned it with some alcohol. I was getting concerned because the next few days were the most grueling of the cruise, since we had excursions planned in Puerto Rico and St. Thomas. At those ports, I walked with my crutches and boot, still not putting any weight. It seemed that the incision condition began to worsen with each use of the boot but improved whenever I took it off. A pea-sized opening had begun to open along my incision line and started to ooze some clear discharge. I was hesitant to go to the ship doctor, since there was an outbreak of the Norwalk virus onboard. I took out the foam inserts that cushioned my heel.
My incision area would periodically get itchy when my foot was swollen, and I finished the cruise with my pattern of keeping the opening clean and drained. I tried to stay out of the boot, “kneeing” my way around our room on cushions, sofas, bed, etc. Down deep inside, I knew I had to see my regular doctor earlier than the Thursday appointment I had on my return home. On the flight home, I had to use the bathroom but could not access my crutches since the flight attendant stored it somewhere else. Walking crab-like down the aisle and using the seats to brace me, I had no choice but to walk with my boot on. My first few steps felt as if I were walking on needles, but it was bearable. The following day,at home, after finding footwear that did not make me walk very lopsided, I tried walking more with just the boot, and spent most of the day’s tasks in it except for shopping at Costco, where I used the electric cart.
I did get an earlier appointment in the week, and I learned I was to have started my rehab exercises during this visit. On seeing my open incision, however, the doctor was very concerned and considered it a setback, as he was unsure of how the tendon was healing since the outer skin was not. He said I could not begin exercising until the incision was closed. He put a purple glue on it, which was supposed to encourage scab growth and also took a culture so make sure it was not infected. He put me on Clindamycin antibiotic and told me not to wear my boot because it was irritating my incision. When asked if I were to use my crutches alone, he said not to use them because I needed to begin using my foot. Oh boy . . .
Though the first steps were difficult, it has been five days since. I am now walking with a pronounced limp, and the outer side of my foot feels more pressure than the inside, where my arch is. Walking flat-footed, or with slippers is painful. I’ve discovered that using a sandal with a slight lift alleviates the soreness. I’m still trying to figure out how to walk with less heel pain, and a cane seems to help, though I get tired on my feet very quickly.
My next visit is in four days, and I hope that my incision gets better. It has been discharging less and it seems that the hole is shrinking, but I notice that it gets irritated at the end of the days that I have walked a lot.
I realize that I have been at this only 2 months out of 12. It will still be a long journey ahead, but I’m hopeful because of the experiences shared on this blog.
Thanks to all who have shared.