So this past Monday I had surgery on my foot to correct a bone alignment issue. It was getting bad enough that even sneakers were rubbing my foot raw at the big toe. The procedures done were a lapidus bunionectomy, an osteomy, and a tarsal-metatarsal fusion. The gist of it is this, the first metatarsal in my left foot was being pulled out of alignment by the tendon. Surgeons went in to straighten the bone out. They shaved off a bit of excess bone that added to the bunion and then fused my 1st metatarsal to my cuneiform. The fusion should keep this from recurring. In the long run there should be no noticeable difference in my ability. The immediate future is a bit more grim. The schedule looks something like this:
Aug 18 - Pre-op. Finding out all the information I need about my upcoming: Lapidus Bunionectomy.
Aug 23 - Under the knife. Owwie. I hear surgery went really well, don't know for certain, I was unconscious. I got crutches, a shower chair, Percocet, and an uncomfortable temporary splint.
Aug 24 - Post-op day 1. I'm annoyed at my immobility already. Taking Perci-treats as often as I'm allowed. SO grateful that LaaLaa is here to help take care of me and keep me company. First trip to the store, I love/hate the motorized carts. I think I may be one of the few people using it for a legitimate reason. I also think I may be 100lbs under the minimum weight limit for them. Next stop was for a snatch clinic at PPCF.
Mostly, my goal was to socialize a bit and to listen. I played with a 15# bar and did the upper body stuff seated. I was way too drugged to get much out of it, but it was good to be around my CF family.
Aug 25 - Post-op day 2. LaaLaa had to go home this morning. I miss him already. The couch and my computer definitely don't make very good companions. Fortunately, I was really worn out from my excursion to the store and to the gym. So this turned into a proper rest day. The most adventurous part of my day consisted of trying to organize things better for a gimp.
Aug 26 - Post-op day 3. You really take for granted the little things; showering and dressing yourself in 15 minutes instead of an hour, standing up to cook & wash dishes, being able to carry the trash out, and not needing to ask help with just about every task. I am an independent person. I really think about just how independent I am and how much I love my independence until I am forced to ask help. I hate asking for help. No, that's not quite right. What I hate is actually needing help... with everything. I also hate not being able to help others. I love my role as a strong, capable person. I am learning to ask for help humbly (not easy for me) and I'm infinitely grateful to those who love me enough to help despite my difficulties with asking. Also, I have learned that the maximum dose of Percocet affects my moods and my ability to control emotional responses. So, again, to those who love me enough to help me, thank you for tolerating my shortness. I am infinitely grateful for your time and efforts.
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