I had a perfectly awful weekend, feeling helpless like a baby, unable to do anything for myself. You know you've pretty much screwed your world up when your eleven year old daughter has to "guard" you while you take a sitz bath on the edge of the tub for fear that you will injure yourself even further.
On Friday evening, the orthopedist's office had put me in a sort of half-cast. The nice nurse who triaged me cut off a length of big fluffy bandage, and what looked like a length of white support hose. Nice Nurse then stuffed the fluffy bandage inside of the support hose, making sure to have both ends covered well. She then put the fluffy bandage/hose combo package into a bucket of water and then rolled it up, squeezing excess water out of it as she rolled. Next, she fitted the wet bandage to the back of my leg, shaping it around my heel and the bottom of my foot. She then took gauze and began to wrap this around my leg, starting from the toes and working her way up. When she'd gotten a good layer of gauze, she then took two Ace bandages, and did the same, adding another layer. As the support hose/bandage contraption hardened, it took on all the qualities of an actual cast. Never having had one before, I had always wondered how they accomplished that. Now I know.
So, anyway, I headed back to the ortho office this morning for another evaluation. The "foot specialist" I saw there was a nice young guy who tells me that he *does not* see a fracture, but that sometimes the fractures can be obscured. The x-rays we took on Friday were non-weight bearing ones, since it hurt to even brush my foot on the floor at the time. Doc explains that he'd like to see me back in a week, and we'll try to do some weight-bearing x-rays, which will reveal if there are any fractures that show up with added strain on the foot. Sounds painful, but I can see his point.
Doc pokes and prods at the multi-hued ankle and hums under his breath. I ask him when I can go back to work -- he's not really all that thrilled with me stomping on the foot and getting climbed on like a jungle gym. So, I am to stay at home until NEXT Monday, when I go back in to be re-re-evaluated. He tops this off by having a nice young gentleman named Tim fit me with one of those ultra-classy boot devices. Man, this thing is high-fashion. It's even got four seperate little pumps in various places for extra support. Sort of like your prehistoric pump tennis shoe.
The best thing about the boot, however, is that I can take it off to bathe, or sleep, should I wish. Thank goodness, because the other one itched like crazy, and I just KNEW I was going to be stuck with one for the next six to eight weeks or so, and I had already armed myself with chopsticks to scratch all the way down inside that sucker. So, instead of itchy, I'm just saddled with clonky. At least it helps keep me in the running with those dork points, huh?
Pspsecretary
1 hour ago
7 comments:
((KLEE))
Oh, KLee. I hope you're feeling better. Many hugs.
Klee! What an ordeal! And I really want to go to that emergency "care" center and kick those people in the shins!
Hope your ankle is on the mend soon.
{{{ Klee }}} and lots of 'em.
Yeah for a cast that can be removed! That sounds so much better than having to baggie yourself or prop up your leg for a bath.
Enjoy your time off!
I hope the pain and annoyance factor subside enough that you can grab some pleasure out of being at home!
Healing thoughts and *hugs*
I continue to be soooo sorry, KLee. But! Good news! I want to tell you that you're scratching instincts are working. Chopsticks are probably a good choice for scratching inside a cast.
In fifth grade, a girl I knew broke her wrist and had to have a cast. It itched, of course, so one day she broke down and scratched inside it with a ball point pen - the cap side of a ball point pen. Her reasoning was that the edges of the cap would scratch better.
Well, she was right, except that when she pulled the pen out, the cap stayed stuck inside the cast, wedged in pretty good. When the cast came off, she had a wound from the pen cap. And when I saw her at our 10-year high school reunion, she still had a scar there.
So, yeah. Chopsticks would have been a better choice, but I'm glad you won't need them.
Hugs,
amy.
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