First post-op check - another hurdle cleared

8 days post op.

It was back to the hospital today for a wound check and fresh cast and a chance to peek at the incision.

People have written sociological/anthropological dissertations based on the notorious NHS Fracture Clinic, which can resemble a First World War field hospital.  This one was a bit more like check in at Heathrow on a busy Saturday and my heart sank when I saw the length of the queue just to book in with the out-patient reception.  However, maybe I just struck lucky because the whole process took just under an hour.

They cut off the post-op plaster (which was very rough and ready and I was rattling around inside it) and it did feel a bit weird to have my foot ‘free’ although I’m not sure I could have moved it even if I’d wanted to. Consultant had a look and seemed happy.  The incision is what I was expecting (have a look at the photos on sam66’s blog) and happily all my stitches were dissolvable.  Then they layered up dressings and a cotton sock thing and then mummified me in the bandages that go rock hard (I’m sure they have a special name but I don’t know it!)

So exactly an hour after we arrived we were on our way home. I should add that hubby isn’t working at the moment having been made redundant in June, which is normally a disaster but right now feels like a blessing. Hopefully I’ll be mended before the money runs out!

Very happy with new cast (I’m easily pleased!) which feels all snug, slimline, light and dare I say, almost elegant compared to the cagged on artex I had before.  Leg feels very cossetted and protected so I feel more confident crutching about.  Shoulders still killing me, although not when I’m actually on the crutches, just last thing at night or if I’ve been still too long. Trying to remember I’m still in my two-week ‘do as little as possible’ phase.

I’ve been told by friends to record my experience of a night in a geriatric, sorry, orthopedic ward. They seem to find it rather amusing. But that will have to wait until I have a nice long stint where no-one else requires the laptop!

TTFN

Smoley

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Five days post op - smile fading….

Hit a fairly bad case of the glums last night and woke up this morning to find it hadn’t worn off.  Main problem is that I’ve wrenched (or something) my shoulder so even the limited mobility I had on the crutches is not worth the pain. Find it easier to just hop around. It was probably the unaccustomed exertion of crutching which caused it.  So my leg feels okay but I’m spaced out on the painkillers for the shoulder! Think I shall have to scrounge a lift to the osteopath if things don’t improve.

Spent most of the morning in bed indulging in a good sulk.  Very hard, when ‘capable’ is practically your middle name, to find yourself so utterly ‘incapable’ of practically anything.   Hubby is doing his best to run the good ship, but…. !! Knowing I’m going to be in this state for weeks is the killer.

We’ve got some people coming round for supper this evening in an effort to entertain me and alleviate my boredom.  I’m sure it will be great, but right now I’m struggling to summon the energy to be jolly and to take the inevitable teasing in the friendly spirit in which it will be intended.  Hopefully once I’m outside a couple of glasses of wine I’ll cheer up.

I don’t recognise the miserable old bag I’ve become today and I don’t like her.  Want my life back!!!!!!!

By the way, called this blog “Life Turns on A Sixpence” because only the day before I hurt myself I was having a philosophical talk with a friend about how there’s no point worrying about stuff because if you know about a problem you can do something about it and it’s the unforseen stuff that comes out of the blue that takes your legs out from under you (literally!). So just when you think everything is fine…wham!  Oh how prophetic!!!!

Smoley

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Three days post op and still smiling (just)

I couldn’t be more typical!  Housewife, 39 years old, two kids, active life style (dog to walk, kids to chase around after etc).  Got asked to play in a fun-size tennis tournament some friends are organising (although I’ve never really played tennis and had to borrow a raquet); all going swimmingly, having good time, when there was a strong ‘twang’ in left calf, an audible crack and down I went like a sack of spuds and I couldn’t get up.  Luckily for me a good friend was only a few feet away who happens to be an orthopedic consultant.  He did the calf squeezing test (Thompsons) and diagnosed me on the spot.  Just about 24 hours later I was in surgery having been strongly advised to take that route by both the friend and the consultant I was referred to, all courtesy of the good old NHS.

After the op (which seems to have been fine) the surgeon confirmed that the tendon was completely two bits so I’d done a proper job on it.

So I’m here on the sofa in a cast with the foot in plantar flextion (I’ve learnt a lot of new terms in the last 72 hours!) and am back at hospital next week for a wound check.  I’m hoping they’ll give me a lighter cast because this one weighs a tonne.  I’m told to expect roughly 9-10 weeks in a series of casts and each time it is changed my foot will be flexed up a few degrees to gradually stretch the tendon back to a normal standing angle.

I’d got my head around that and wasn’t feeling too miserable until last night when hubby (after a conversation with the consultant friend) broke the news that after the 9-10 weeks of cast I’ll probably have up to six months in the magic grey boot, and I must confess the old chin did have a bit of a wobble because I hadn’t expected that, although the surgeon who performed the op did tell me I was looking at 12 months before I had my old stamina back.  It’s not vanity (well maybe a bit of vanity) but more the prospect of not being able to take the dog up to the woods for months because by the time the casts are off and I’m in the walking boot the woods will be too muddy and you really need wellies.

Anyway, sun is shining and hubby isn’t working at the mo so I have my house elf at hand (think I’ll start calling him Dobby, see how he likes it). Very happy to have discovered such a nice gang of folk in the same boat.

Remember, on the sofa, no one can hear you scream…..!

Smoley

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