You know, I really thought I was getting back in the groove – I mean 3 weeks of Friday Funnies posts counts as a streak around here these day.
And then I had surgery on my ankle.
I’ve known it was inevitable for months now. I lived in denial for most of the summer, but things finally got to the point where I couldn’t put it off any longer. My peroneal tendons had become ornerier than any of my kids and wouldn’t stay where they were put. I can not describe to you the incredible pain you experience when your tendons jump the track and you must somehow get them back into place before you can take another step. And they would pop out at the most inopportune times. For example, when the physical therapist asked me what my goals were for therapy, I told her I wanted to be able to run across the room while carrying a puking toddler without my tendons popping out of place half way to the bathroom, landing both of us on the floor covered in… you get the idea. The poor girl looked at me like I was bat-crap crazy! (By the way, physical therapy didn’t work and may have made the problem slightly worse. I should have just had to surgery in the first place.)
And so, on Nov 18th, I submitted to the surgery necessary to stabilize those pesky tendons. Between being laid up in bed for several weeks and the wonderful drugs the doctor prescribed, I somehow lost nearly a month.
How I spent the first two weeks.
I remember Thanksgiving being pretty awesome this year, and that was only partly due to my spending the day in the recliner expected to do as little as possible. For the first time in the 15+ years since moving away from home, my family came to me instead of the other way around. We crammed 14 people around our dining table – although I vaguely remember the triplets being pushed off to their own little table (those were good pain meds!)
After the first two weeks of either laying in bed or rolling around on my knee walker, I got upgraded to a nifty blue cast and horrendously ugly cast shoe.
The kids had way more fun on the scooter than I did.
So now, I’m a little over a month out from surgery and feeling much more myself. I’m able to walk now, although my slow, clumpy, peg-leg pirate walk has earned me the clever nickname “Hop Along” at work. I wish I could say that name will die when the cast come off in 9 days, but I have a feeling that’s not going to happen.
I would like to take this opportunity to personally thank Grandma Laura, Grumple (Michael) and Aunt Alyssa for their amazing help over the last month. I wouldn’t have made it without you guys.