Healing

A year ago today I was laying on the downstairs couch with my leg wrapped in a plaster cast, sucking down percocets like they were going out of style. I was broken and in pain. I was also completely helpless. I couldn't bring myself water, I couldn't make myself food. Standing for any length of time was horribly tiring. And more than anything I was depressed.

So this New Years I'm celebrating my wholeness. I can walk and stand and run and even crouch. I'm pain free and healthy. The amount of healing I've done over the course of the year is amazing to me. I'm still in awe that the human body can heal bones. I've been blessed with a family who pushed me to get better. I was lucky to have a great physical therapist. And I'm even more blessed to have a husband who taught me the meaning of courage.

My goal for the new year is to become more fearless. To be more willing to take a chance, in all aspects of my life. I've been broken and I healed. I've been in pain and I lived through it. I couldn't walk and now I can. I was always afraid of breaking bones and while the experience was awful, I've lived through it. And that, has given me courage. I'm ready to go out and live a bit more. I'll still be careful on the ice but I think I'm ready to venture out a bit more.

I hope your new year is adventurous. I hope you do things you've never done before. I hope you use this year to the best of your ability and that when you look back, you are proud. I hope 2011 is the best year of your life.

Going It Alone

Or What a long strange trip it's been.

When I broke my ankle back in January I knew that this day would come but I didn't realize how odd it would feel. Tomorrow is my last scheduled day for physical therapy. On Sunday I get to remove the brace and start walking like a normal human being. In some ways this is the end of my treatment. Two attempts to set the bones, a surgery with screws and plates, two weeks of no weight bearing, one and a half months of limited weight bearing, and two months of physical therapy with full walking have all come down to this.

After tomorrow there will be no one to push me through my physical therapy. There will be no one there to guide me through the recovery process. After tomorrow I'm on my own. I'm both scared and thrilled at this. No matter how much I love my physical therapist, I won't miss taking off work last minute to attend appointments. As much as I appreciate the doctor who did the surgery, I'm glad he feels confident enough that he doesn't need to see me again. And no matter how much I've needed the directed recovery in the past, I'm ready to step out (pun intended) on my own.

I can walk now, mostly gimp-free. I can climb steps, although I still need the handrail. I can stand for long periods of time without pain. The only things I can't do right now is hop, run, and crouch. And I'll start working on those. I've learned the value of physical therapy. Of working daily to make myself stronger. I finally understand the old adage: if you don't use it, you lose it. That is very true for muscles. As I rebuild my calf muscles, my achilles tendon, and my knees I'm reminded that you are either getting stronger or atrophying. For the last couple years I've been letting myself go. I'm been letting the muscles grow soft while I sit on the couch. I've been ignoring my body. But this injury is just what I needed to give me an added push.

When I was sitting on the couch right after the break, I dreamed about walking. When I was slowly starting to walk with the crutches, I dreamed about getting rid of them. When I finally put down the crutches, I dreamed about walking without a limp. Now that I'm walking without a limp, I dream about running. I dream about running for distance. I want to strengthen enough to run a marathon. It's been a dream of mine for the last ten years.

So my next step will be to start walking for distance. As my muscles and my endurance build up I can start learning how to hop. And once I learn to hop I can start teaching myself to run. I know that I always have back-up from my physical therapist if I need it. I can always go back. But for right now I have a goal, I have ambition, and I have the energy to go it alone.

Bracingly Good News

I meant to write yesterday. I had time to write in the morning but wanted to wait until after my doctor's appointment to do one last post about my recovery. After my appointment I had errands to run, new shoes to buy, and some friends I was meeting for dinner and drinks. I didn't get home until late and after the beer I had with dinner I wasn't feeling very writerly. So no post. And in some ways I'm glad I waited until this morning. I wanted to talk about my appointment but wasn't really sure how to explain the excitement and disappointment it had elicited.

I'm not sure what I was expecting. I hoped to get my boot off. I hoped to see some good healing. I got some of my wishes. I'm mostly healed, mostly. There is still a big gap in the ankle bone that the doctor has decided is either probably not going to heal or will take a good year to heal. But he's not worried about it either. No further corrections needed on that. I also still have a dagger like bone fragment that will probably always be a bit ajar in the back of my foot. But no worries on that either. So I'm healing and stable.

I got rid of the boot only to trade it in for a brace which I'll wear for another month. I'm not to take a step on the foot without the brace and a shoe on. I can sleep with it off but the rest of my walking time I must have it on. I'm not sure how I feel about this. The brace is painful in ways that the boot never was. It's an added element that complicates dressing in the morning or late night bathroom visits. But it also allows me to wear real shoes again. And more importantly it allows me to walk like a human again. I can now walk with a bend to my ankle. I can go up and down steps like a normal person. I'm finally able to really start rehabilitating that ankle.

The big news for me though was that in a month I can get rid of the brace and be fully healed. I can start returning to all of my old activities. I can hopefully stop thinking about my ankle, stop worrying about it. And more importantly I don't have to go back to the doctor. No three month follow-ups. No yearly visits. Done! That may be the best sign I could ask for that I'm healing. I've been released by the doctor. I'll still do Physical Therapy for the next month (only because I begged) but no more x-rays. No more waiting rooms. Done! Three months has never gone so slow and so fast at the same time. Now just one more month to go.

These Boots Are Made for Walking

That's why they call it a walking boot.

This post is a tribute and hopefully a send-off to my long hated, long loved walking boot. I go see the doctor on Monday and pretty much everyone agrees that I will probably be told that I don't need it any longer. It's been 13 weeks since surgery which doesn't seem like a lot until I say three months. I've been wearing this boot since January 4th and although it's been incredibly helpful, durable, and sometimes comfortable I'm ready to say goodbye.

I was casted in the emergency room with a removable plaster cast. It was heavy and frustrating. But I didn't really hate it. I didn't have it on long enough to hate it. When I woke up from surgery it had been removed. Instead I was staring at a gigantic black walking boot. The same one you see below. It was heavier than the plaster. It was more cumbersome and for the first two weeks, served no real purpose other than that it was removable.

When I first started wearing it I couldn't even remove the damn thing by myself. I couldn't bend enough to pull off the far straps. At least I couldn't without putting some weight on my foot which was strictly taboo at the time. After a while pulling the boot on and off got easier. But it wasn't comfortable. With my leg wrapped in gauze and Ace bandages it was constantly rubbing. Once the bandages were gone it became comfortable. And about that time I could actually start putting some weight on the leg. After two weeks I was using the boot the way it was meant to be used, with weight bearing. But I still hated it. I chafed my foot and leg. It smelled after only a couple days of wear. I could only wash it occasionally and that was almost always more a nuisance than it was worth. Sleeping with it was frustrating (and still is) and I still wasn't able to really walk. I was still crutch-bound, just with a huge leg weight.

It wasn't until 8 weeks that I really started to appreciate it. Once I started physical therapy and slowly did away with the crutches, I realized the value of this gigantic fake appendage. It protected. It soothed. It walked. I've been walking for a couple weeks now without the crutches. I've become comfortable walking. Other than the occasional really high curb I can pretty much go anywhere without a thought. I can carry things without worry. I'm back using my purse rather than the backpack. I'm feeling mostly human again. And now I an even better chance of feeling normal. I'll finally be able to wear matching shoes. Here's hoping that will be Monday.

Crutchless

Wow, one letter off and this might have been a very different post. A reminder to always check your spelling. :-)

I am officially crutchless. As most of you know I've been slowly weaning myself off the crutches for the last two weeks. It was slower than I expected but then again I never was good at just diving into something. I had gone from two crutches to one sometime last week and that felt good. Jeff and I were even able to go out and do some window shopping on Friday without too much trouble. And although I moved to the single crutch I noticed that I was starting to pick that crutch up when I walked. I realized how little I needed it. So last night I stuck my crutches into a corner and went to dinner without them. This morning I surprised my physical therapist by appearing in her office without them. I've been walking all over the house today without them and even managed to get out to lunch without them.

The thing that amazes me about this transition is how comfortable and natural it feels (nothing else in this entire process has seemed natural). It struck me as I stood outside our house talking with one of my neighbors. I hadn't seen this neighbor since December so she had no idea that I'd even broken anything. We were standing in front of the house catching up and I realized just how comfortable I was without having anything to hold me up. I stood with my feet at equal weight and I was perfectly balanced. I didn't even have any pain. It felt amazingly good.

For the first time in months, I can carry things. I put all my stuff back into my purse last night and no longer have to carry the backpack. I can even get into the car like a normal person now. I was originally terrified of getting rid of the crutches. Now I find it exhilarating. I never realized how normal I would feel so quickly. The physical therapy has really made the difference for me. I'm well on my way to recovery.

Hypersensitive

One of the things that amazed Jeff after he broke his foot was how incredible everything felt after he got his foot out of the boot. He told me that the first time he was able to touch his foot to the carpet, every sensation was heightened. The carpet just felt bizarre. He said that the sensations lasted for a while as he relearned to walk. Occasionally he would have to stop just to rub his foot on the floor to feel how odd it felt.

I'd been having similar feelings. Since I'm able to take my foot out of the boot earlier I noticed how the bottom of my foot was much more sensitive. The carpet had a roughness and texture that I simply didn't notice with my other foot. The throw blanket we have on our couch was almost painfully soft. The first time I draped it over my bare foot, I gasped. It was wild.

I mentioned this to my physical therapist and her eyes got wide. She asked me to describe the sensations. I said that things just "felt more...just more" (I'm so eloquent sometimes). She immediately followed up that she was glad I had mentioned it. Apparently when limbs, particularly feet, are unused for too long the nerves become hypersensitive. At the early stage this is not a terrible thing. Sensations are heightened and the person tends to find this interesting rather than scary. But if hypersensitivity is left unchecked, the sensations quickly become painful. Suddenly just touching a fabric to the foot would be like stabbing it with pins. Too much sensitivity is apparently not a good thing.

So part of my physical therapy is to rub my foot on any texture that feels heightened. I've been rubbing the bottom of my foot along the carpet, the walls, the linoleum, blankets,... pretty much anything. I recently noticed that our bath mats felt amazing so I spent ten minute rubbing my foot along them. I'm sure it's starting to make Jeff a bit concerned about me. It's a bit odd to be working to make myself less sensitive. But I have noticed that since I've started walking more, these sensations are growing. Nerves are an amazing thing. Hopefully mine decide to function properly again. At least once I get my boot off.

All Recovery...All the Time

It's the recovery channel, all recovery stories, all the time!! Sorry I know I just posted about my leg but sadly it's what on my mind recently. And as much as I would like to deny it, a broken ankle (particularly my type of break), is a big deal. I had an interesting discussion with my physical therapist this morning who told me that although she's hoping for a complete 100% range of motion recovery, it often tends to be more like 80 to 90% for trimalleolars. The plates and screws make a huge difference.

All that said, I've had an exceptionally good day recovery wise. The physical therapy is slightly painful and my foot is sore by the end of the day but I can finally see some good movement in the joint. It's faint and no where near where the other one is but I'm able to move it back and forth and side to side. It's day two of physical therapy and I already feel much stronger. I can move the foot more and am now able to put all my weight on it comfortably.

My big news for the day is that I have been walking for most of the day with just one crutch. I had been nervous to get rid of the crutches completely although I know it's the next logical step. So this was a compromise between my daring self that says go for it and the frightened side of myself that said don't rush. So far it has been working beautifully. I limp a lot but that's to be expected. And I can even carry things now. It's the little things. :-)

Mostly I'm just excited about the physical therapy. My therapist is wonderful, always careful and gentle with me, but still giving the ankle a good workout. I'm shocked at how little movement makes it tender. One of my exercises is to use my ankle to draw the alphabet in the air. I started with my good foot to try it and had no issues. But even the shift to make the A on my bad ankle is stretching muscles and tendons I didn't realize I had. It's slow going but it gives me something to work on and the feeling that I'm in charge of my recovery. And that is the greatest feeling of all.

Using my crutches as...well...a crutch

I just got back from the doctor about a half an hour ago or so. I was pretty excited about this visit. I assumed I would either be getting rid of the boot or the crutches today. And that's somewhat true but there's a bit of a snag, Me.

Things seem to be healing well. The bones are starting to knit although there is still a pretty big gap on one side of my ankle. Everything is aligned and the doctor sounds very optimistic. I've been able to put up to half my weight on my ankle up until now. He told me today that as long as I don't have any new pain, I can start weaning myself off the crutches. You would think that this would be the greatest news I've heard in a while. For a moment I was really excited. Then the fear set in. I'm terrified to get rid of them. I'm just not ready to go without them.

I know I've been complaining for weeks about the crutches. I've stumbled over them, I've cursed them, I've found them a nuisance. But now that I can set them aside, I'm clinging to them like a life jacket. They've become my safety. I'm using them as a crutch, quite literally. I assume that this is just first day jitters. By tomorrow I'll be looking for ways to get rid of them. But for today the idea is not only not appealing, it's terrifying.

On other recovery news I start physical therapy tomorrow. I'm a bit nervous about that but I'm hoping that it will help with the stiffness and help me recover faster. So in total I'm doing well. I just need to get over my fears. I've been dealing with new ways of walking for weeks now. I have to remind myself that this is just another step (pun intended :-) ).

My Side of the Sofa

I'm writing to you from the couch my parents bought Jeff and I when we moved into our house. It is a beautiful cream-colored micro-fiber couch that has to be one of the softest things I've ever sat on. I've slept on this couch, I've watched TV on this couch, I've eaten on this couch, and for the last nine weeks I've pretty much lived on this couch (you can see me on the couch in my profile picture).

From that night in early January when I came home from the emergency room, I have been mostly living in one spot on the couch. I sit on the right side of the couch so I can prop my injured left ankle up on the ottoman and still get up comfortably when I need to. The first week and a half I slept in this spot. During that first week I only left the couch to go to the bathroom. Jeff brought me clothes and food and entertainment. Nowadays I'm much more mobile and spend plenty of time in the rest of the house. But when I come home from work after a long day (I'm back to nine hour days full time) the first place I'm going to head is my side of the sofa.

This has worked okay except for the poor other side of the sofa. Jeff sits on the loveseat and works from there. It's nice that he's so close and it was just easier for talking or watching TV (which I've done way too much of lately). So the other half of the couch has been taken over with my things. From where I am sitting right now I can see: two blankets, a knitting project I'm working on, my coat, my bookbag, treats for the cat, toys for the cat, my towel that I use for my ankle exercises, the camera, some nail polish, multiple pens, a water bottle, and well over a dozen books. It's hard for me to carry things back into their place and I hate to ask Jeff since he already does so much running around at my request. Plus you never know when I'll need things again. So they pile up until I can't stand it anymore. Then I clean the whole couch up and start the process over.

My only hope is that all the stuff on the other side will balance out the fact that my fat butt has been sitting on one cushion for nine weeks now. It's starting to get flatter than the others. I should move. I should change things up after nine weeks. But I'm comfortable here. And the cushions are starting to mold to my shape. I'm claiming this side as mine always. Jeff can keep the loveseat. :-)

Eight Weeks or a Rambling Post about Recovery

I know it hasn't been that long since I gave you guys an update on my leg but today is eight weeks and I figured I would celebrate the small victories. Eight weeks is significant when it comes to healing because of the general belief that a bone will be healed enough to walk on by six to eight weeks. Obviously this depends somewhat on the person but that is the general rule. Children heal much faster and older people and smokers of any age heal far slower. But since I'm not fitting into any of those categories I figure I'm probably following the normal course.

I've noticed that my attitude towards my foot has certainly changed in the last couple of weeks. Right after the break I was practically panicked if my foot hit the floor incorrectly or went for any time without the boot. I hated to touch it down for any length of time and was worried sick if it wasn't up for a while. In short, I was a basket case.

The last four weeks or so have seen me really calm down about it. For starters the break feels more like a part of my life and less like something that is temporary. I've gotten used to my injured foot, the boot, and the crutches. I can no longer remember what it was like when I was walking. You would think that this would depress me but instead I've found some peace in it. Secondly I've stopped worrying about injuring it further. I now walk with it down all the time and am putting more and more weight on it. I'm no longer even phased if I run it into a door or someone kicks it. I'm very stable on the crutches now and find them a comfort rather than a nuisance. All and all, I've grown used to things and am starting to feel like my foot is pretty much healed.

That said I go to the doctor next Monday. And I have a feeling things will change again. I'll either end up being able to put more weight on the foot or losing either my boot or crutches. And this of course will throw me back into chaos. I'll have to learn a whole new skill. But I figure I've learned each task without too much trouble. I've adapted to each step and have grown comfortable. The next appointment is just another step in the road to recovery. My ankle feels stronger. I feel stronger. I just have to make sure I don't get my hopes up. I may be cursing the boot or crutches next week. It's all about change.

Health Update

I promise not to do this every time I have a doctor's appointment. I'm sure that hearing about my recovery is about as exciting as watching a test cricket match for most of you (of course, for me that would be heaven). But this particular appointment was both exciting and depressing for me. And it's the news of the day for me, so I'm sharing.

So far everything seems to be healing well. My surgery wounds have healed enough that I can now start wearing a sock instead of the gauze and Ace wrap. That is huge because finally my toes are covered. As most of you know, I'm not a huge fan of cold. My toes go numb when they get too cold. They go white. It's not pretty or enjoyable. So being able to cover them with a stretchy sock (I can't fit a regular one yet) is a huge bonus for me. Secondly for the good news, I can start driving again. Since it's my left ankle, the doctor felt it was safe enough for me to start driving. Jeff has offered to continue to drive me on bad days but this finally gives me a bit of independence.

Now the bad news, or perhaps neutral news. He doesn't want to see me back for a month. That is both good news and bad news. It indicates that I'm healing steadily enough that he doesn't have to keep tabs on me. And I'll admit that the x-rays look pretty good. I do have one huge spike of a bone fragment that is shooting into the back of my leg but he says that won't be a problem. The bad part about this was that I was hoping to wean myself off the crutches in 8 weeks. I was kind of hoping that after six weeks he would say that I was doing so well I could start walking without the boot. Instead I won't even see him until it's been 9 weeks. That means at least five more weeks of boot and crutches. And then I would guess at least three more weeks of boot and crutch walking. Or maybe a cane. I hope to be start relearning to walk by April.

I shouldn't be frustrated. I'm healing well enough. I'll always have a scar and possibly a red stain on that ankle. But everything seems to be staying in line. I haven't had any real pain in that leg in a long time. I'm finally sleeping through the night again. All of these are things that only three weeks ago seemed impossible. I can also put 1/3 to 1/2 of my weight on my foot now. I'm more stable on the crutches. I'm also gaining some serious muscle in my arms. All in all I'm doing well. As I said before, I'm happy and sad about this doctor's appointment. Happy that I've been healing as well as I have, sad that it's been slower than I expected. But as I've learned over the last couple weeks, focus on the positive. It gets better every day.

Good Health News

This break has been one of the most difficult and frustrating things in my life. I don't even want to admit the number of times that I've thought about just staying in and not leave the house for the next couple months. I've thought about never leaving the couch unless I had to. I've been in pain, afraid, and frustrated by hauling myself around on my hands. I've nearly fallen from the crutches hundreds of times. Anyone who tells you that crutches are no big deal is lying...or selling you something.

But with all this frustrating something else has happened. I'm amazed at how easily I can be made happy. The first time I dressed myself with the boot on was a moment of joy. The first time I opened a door on my own I was texting Jeff to share my excitement. When I first learned the step to get into the house, I was practically in tears with joy. I've become easy to please.

And today was a great day. I went to the doctor and finally got my staples out. The wounds are healing well and soon I won't be needing gauze or the ace bandage. But even better news was that I can start bending my ankle. In fact I should be working nightly to bend and flex the foot to improve mobility. The first time the doctor helped me bend my foot back felt bizarre. Apparently my ankle has forgotten how to move.

And that wasn't even the best news. The big thing is that I can finally start putting weight on the foot. I'm shocked!!! Two weeks after surgery and I can start putting 10-20 pounds on the foot. That's enough to use my leg to steady myself. I'm four legged now. And I'm so thankful. It took Jeff months before he could step on his foot again (he didn't have surgery) and I'm starting to walk after just two weeks. I could have kissed my doctor when he said it. And I'm on a perpetual high today. Yesterday I hardly left the couch if I didn't have to (I've been having a lot of pain in my hands) and today I'm up and moving as often as possible. I would say that I'm easy to please but this was just way too good of information. I feel like I'm really on the road to recovery now.

I Have Clearance

It's not everyday that I say words like this but...Yay, I get to go back to work!!! After a long week of being cramped up at home, I'm finally heading back to work tomorrow. I saw the doctor this morning and he cleared me. Actually what he wrote was "return to work as tolerated". Which may well be the greatest words ever written. What this means is that, not only do I get to go out into the world again, but I get to set the schedule for it as well.

I can tell you right now that there is no way that I would be able to work 9 hour days in the condition that I am in. I simply could not sit with my leg down for that long a period of time. Plus I've gotten used to mid-afternoon naps (if that sounds like bragging, it is :-) ) and the occasional pain pill. I've also gotten used to having my own schedule. This work release, along with the wonderfulness of my boss, is allowing me to go back to work for 5 hour days to see how it goes. The rest of my hours will be made up with sick leave. I'm incredibly excited about this.

You would think that getting to stay home for almost a week and a half without any pressures would be wonderful. You would think that getting to read, sleep, eat, and watch TV whenever you want would be nice. But it gets old. Quick. And more than anything it is a tad isolating. I've had a number of people stop by to check on me. I've run my phone battery out a couple of times with long conversations with friends. I've had my brief forays to the doctor's office. But other than that, my only contacts have been Jeff and friends through Facebook. I love Jeff and this week he has proved to me that I truly married the right man. But there is only so much together time we can take. As for Facebook, I've had a ton of wonderful well-wishes from friends. I was touched by how many people were worried about me. But typing on a website is just the not the same as face to face conversation. And even that, after a while has left me feeling restless. An entire week straight with little interruption and no where to go has made me a bit antsy.

So as odd as it sounds, I'm ready to go back to work tomorrow. I'm excited about having some work challenges rather than just getting around challenges. The crutches are providing their own issues but I'm ready to be with people again. I'm ready to be social. But more than anything else, I'm ready for a little normalcy.

Should Have

I should be posting more. I have a ton of time. I have really nothing to do but lie here on the couch with my feet up, spend time on Facebook, and watch TV. And that's exactly what I've been doing. I haven't been terribly ambitious for anything that requires too much thought. I've watched a ton of movies, some that I want to talk about, others that I've seen over and over. Jeff and I are doing a very slow Lord of the Rings marathon this weekend. We watched Fellowship Friday night, Two Towers last night, and will finish with Return of the King tonight. As a friend of mine on Facebook said, "if those movies can't heal broken bones, nothing will".

But I should be taking this time to blog, to write, to paint, and even to read. Instead I watch hours of old NCIS episodes, Family Guy, football, and an endless number of commercials. I read countless comics, find new photo sites, and spend literally hours checking in with friends. I traditionally only spend an hour or two a week on Facebook. This week I've probably spent 12 hours on it. I have spent a good chunk of time on the phone and I've had a number of friends and family who have stopped in to see me. The time is actually passing quickly but none of it is really productive. I haven't even had my journal out once. I should have posted every day. But being laid up has left me without an sort of ambition. Even climbing the stairs, something that I've gotten better at, made me feel tired.

My hope is to be better this week. I'm hopefully going back to work on Tuesday but even then I'll probably only be able to do half days to begin with. I get tired easily and still have some trouble concentrating. I'm not taking the pain pills as frequently which is helpful. I guess all of this is to make excuses for the fact that this has been one of the more exciting weeks of my life and I've hardly written anything about it. And it's my hope that getting this little bit of fluff post out there will spur me on to do some more writing. I have to remember that this boot will probably be my constant companion for many many weeks. It's time to settle into a normal life, just with a couple new accessories.

Starting my New Year with a snap, crackle, and pop

I wish I could say that I made Rice Crispy treats and that is the reference. Instead I stepped on some ice badly and my feet went out from under me. I caught myself with my ankle and landed in the middle of the street. Jeff was with me and immediately came to my aid. The pain was intense but I was aware enough that I knew I needed to take my shoe off. The sound I had made just told me that I'd broken something.

Jeff and my dad (I was in front of my parents' house) loaded me into the car and we had a bit of bumpy ride to the Emergency Room. After x-rays and a couple hours of waiting the doctor informed me that I'd broken both my fibula and my tibia (the leg bones connected to the ankle bone, the ankle bones connected to the.... :-) ). In fact, I was broken in three different places. He sedated me and reset the bone right there in the ER. They casted the foot and sent me home with the promise to see the orthopedic doctor on Monday morning. I didn't sleep that night because of the pain and all through Sunday I lay on the couch. I've gotten pretty good with the crutches and the pain has gone down quite a bit. I'm almost comfortable.

I went in for my appointment with the ortho doctor early this morning. He walked in, showed me the x-rays and instantly started talking surgery. I guess the break was so bad that there would have been little stability with a conventional treatment. Instead a surgery would make it stable and possibly speed recovery. Considering I've never broken anything or really even been in the hospital for myself, this was nerve wracking. I went from fine three days ago, to broken, to my first surgery in less than 72 hours. I remember being taken into the Operating Room. The anesthesialogist said that he would be giving me some oxygen and starting the anesthetic. I remember saying that I was a bit dizzy and then I was out. I woke up an hour and a half later in recovery. The doctor came in to say that the break had actually been a lot worse than he had thought. I spent an hour or so in recovery and then went home to pizza, a comfy couch, and the occasional nap. Although it's not something I recommend I realize that this could have been a much worse accident. And I've been lucky with the number of friends and family offering assistance. I may be broken, but I'm still pretty blessed.