Hoorah! It finally happened. I got my cast off yesterday. Sean came with me, because sometimes it’s nice to have someone else there. It was extra beneficial this time because I had SO MUCH to carry out of the ortho with me. They called me in, sawed off the cast, took some X-rays, and sent Sean and I in a room to wait for the consult.
So what if I’m lying on the kitchen floor?
I think the ortho thought I was expecting to be running by today (which, I totally wasn’t, I just wanted the cast off). He came in and said, “Well, I hate days like today where I have to give disappointing news.” My first reaction was, “He can’t mean he’s giving bad news to me, because I just got my cast off and the only bad news could be that they’re putting one back on.”
This was not the case.
The bad news was that I can’t go gallivanting around like a hooligan. I have to wear a boot most of the time (but not at home and not while sleeping!!!), and have to start physical therapy. These were both things I was ready to hear and seemed like good news, not bad news. He had me do a little “test walking” with the crutches and wrote me a prescription for the physical therapy office across the hall (why do you need an Rx for these things? I apparently needed a prescription for a cast shoe. $25 I never used.). I walked over to PT and made an initial appointment–for first thing this morning.
Say hello to my skinny leg.
Overall, I’m feeling pretty good about the whole thing–as good as it gets when you break your leg and tear the ligaments in your ankle. My left leg muscles look and feel like silken tofu, almost gelatinous and very pale, and my calf muscle is about as big around as my arm. It’s gross, but hopefully I can be back to normal (normal being soccer, running, CrossFit, etc.) by August. Remember when the ER nurse told me my calves were too big for the splint? Now my leg looks like skinny Jell-O. Solid, pale Jell-O. Gag.
I’m excited to start physical therapy, though. I’m like the perfect patient for PT–ready to get a move on. Kinda like a panting dog, sitting wagging it’s tail waiting for it’s owner to throw a stick. C’mon. C’mon. I’m ready, guys. Let’s do this. C’mon.
After the appointment, I really wanted to go home and wash and shave my leg. It was disgusting and glorious all at once. I’ll spare you the serious grossness, but there was so. much. dead. skin. I put on some pants, because I wore shorts to the ortho, and ate a snack before heading to work. Oh, and I secretly stopped to get a coffee from Starbucks. Don’t tell Sean.
This is crack.
[Side note: I tried an experiment in at-home cold-brewing coffee. The result was less than delicious and also made my ears bleed. Ok, the bleeding ears bit is false, but I didn’t like the way the coffee made me feel–sicky and on edge.]
Physical therapy is supposed to happen 3 times a week for 4 weeks, and I got back to see if I’m a human on July 17. It seems like forever away until you realize that July is next week!
Thanks for supporting me and encouraging me, blog & Facebook & Twitter friends. You guys are awesome. Thanks for making me feel better about being 1-legged and telling me to suck it up when I needed to. I’m not out of the hole yet, but I feel like I can see the light at the end of the tunnel, at least.