Then two years ago, doc cut the left one open and fixed it. It. Was. Slightly. Traumatizing.
Doc said I'd have to have the other one done eventually, but I quickly put that out of my mind. No way was I letting him get near my other foot...
...the nerve started acting up. I knew if I didn't have it done, I'd eventually have irreparable nerve damage and lose function of my foot. We just didn't know when eventually would come.
Well, a week or so before our East Coast Adventure, eventually knocked on my door (or my foot).
It was time. Doc said it was now or never. I cried, but I knew it had to be done.
So, I put on my brave face. I went to the vampire place all by myself and let them take my blood (and I didn't even shed a tear thankyouverymuch).
I picked up my Rx at the pharmacy. I cleaned out my bathroom, bedroom, and spare bedroom. I arranged anything I might need or want so that it was easily accessible. I got my classroom (physically) ready.
I was ready-ish. D-day was last Thursday. My grandparents came down to help take care of me because my mom has to be in and out of work, so they and my madre drove me to the surgery center.
I was quite nervous about the IV--with good reason apparently! The lady did not rip the tape before sticking the needle in my hand. Seriously? So she bounced it around up and down in my hand while she tried to rip tape one and a half handed. Ouch.
But then doc came out and put me at ease. I asked him to make sure that my scars matched up. He said he'd do his best. Deep sigh of relief...
This foot please.
Eventually I sauntered on back to the OR, climbed my little self onto the table, got some burning stuff shoved into my arm, and fell faaaaaast asleep.
The next thing I knew I was waking up to two ladies (or maybe there was one and I was seeing double) putting the cast on my leg--yippy! NOT!
I couldn't feel anything in my foot, but I knew I was thirsty and my throat was burning.
I drank and drank and drank--eventually got dressed, and was wheeled out to the car and driven home.
Thursday was actually easy-ish. The foot was still numb--only the throat hurt--but the anesthesia hadn't completely worn off. I assumed my position and set out on the road to recovery.
It helps that I have the Olympics to keep me company.
Thursday night I slept pretty well, only waking up a few times to adjust or take more meds.
Friday, however, was not so great. I woke up with a burning throat and a foot that felt like it had been smashed into a million pieces. Mom called the surgery center to ask about my throat. They said a lot of people from Thursday had complained--perhaps it was the tubes they used that day--awesome. So, I drank a ton and pretty much kept the Halls going all day long.
We kept icing the foot, but it's tough to get any relief through that much of a cast. (Like the decor in the background, Nicole)?
I spent a bit of Friday evening just crying it out and praying for some relief. My brother surprised me and came home, which was a great distraction, and I hoped that sleeping would help even more.
Guess what? It didn't! I believe I spent about two hours actually asleep on Friday night, with the remainder of the time shaking, crying, and rolling around in bed. I eventually called Mom in the next room and she brought some ice in (at least it would distract from the pain for a while). I was eventually able to calm down enough to relax (although I still didn't really sleep much).
Saturday morning Mom emailed the doc straightaway--things were getting a bit ridiculous. His advice was the same as last time (yes, I have been through all of this before): cut the cast open (it's a hard cast expect for a semi-soft strip down the middle to allow cutting if necessary) to relieve some pressure and get ice in closer to the incision, and double up on the pain med. Sure thing, doc!
Sweet relief. We didn't cut it all the way open as we could have (it makes me too nervous), but it helped to get ice down that far.
I spent most of Saturday in and out of consciousness-ish (the mix of almost no sleep and an added dose of pain meds really does a number on you). But, the moments that I was awake, I really enjoyed hanging out with the family. We looked at pictures from our various trips this summer, watched the Olympics, and ate (and ate and ate).
Needless to say, I slept much better Saturday night. :)
Now, here we are on Monday. I'm still in my usual spot on the couch watching the Olympics (and reading and coloring and going on Pinterest and trying not to be too super bored). I haven't made it out of the house yet, but that'll come soon enough. My hair is grateful for the break from the hair dryer and straightener (it sits in a messy bun on the top of my head because it's the most out of the way there), and I'm sure my face is grateful for a break from makeup (no need sitting here all day!).
I'm pretty sure that the worst of this part is over (hopefully). I'm not out of the woods yet, but I'm able to better manage the pain and the swelling (and the nausea and the showering and the boredom).
This Thursday I'll get a real cast--color suggestions anyone?--and I should have that on for another two weeks. Then the challenge of starting school and trying to walk again arises, but let's not borrow trouble, ok? Scary!
I'd like to extend a thank-you-shout-out to everyone who has come to visit me, made us food, brought me treats, called, texted, facebooked, etc. It really means SO much!
I hope you enjoyed reading about the first part of my journey. There's much more story to come--stay tuned--and thanks for all of your prayers and encouragement along the way! I truly am a blessed girl!