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I've been given the boot
Feb. 14th, 2011 11:18 pmWhich is a good thing, all in all.
It's heavier than the cast, and bulkier, but I can remove it. So I did. I sat in the hot tub and sang paeans. I rubbed off a lot of dead skin. I felt the ankle (still swollen) and wondered at the knobby bit. I don't know if it an ossian-callosity (a lump healing on the bone) which will fade in time, or some other bit of the healing process.
I can adjust the bladders in the cast, so it's more closely fitted. I can also tuck my pants into it, so I have more sartorial options. I can wear socks directly on my foot, so I am warmer. The boot is also warmer than the cast was. I also have more ability to wiggle my foot in it, because it's a bit less rigid.
Those are the good bits. On the down side, I'm going to be in it for another month. I can put light/moderate weight on it. I actually stood, all on my own, for the first time in a month. That was strange. I have not taken a step, though I have let my foot roll across the floor, with no weight, as I crutched.
Cooking is easier.
There is some wasting, and some atrophy. It's not going to get better in another four weeks.
But I took a shower, standing under the water, with both legs bare.
My sense of balance is different. Standing on one foot, and turning on the ball of it, is normal. Standing in the shower I was only putting the other foot down for balance. I had to think to put any weight on it, and if I stopped paying attention to it, I took the weight off of it. I also used the shower-stool if I wanted to do anything which required moving to a not completely balanced state (e.g washing my hair).
It's so much nicer than the blue sock. I don't know how I'd have kept all my sanity without the sock but I am, glad to be able to put it into storage. I am loathe to pass it on to someone else; as with the percocet, I may not need it, but the thought of not having it is sort of scary.
I remember the same sort of hoarding/scarcity behavior after I got back from Iraq. I think it was more than 18 months before I was able to go someplace without a stash of toilet paper (what the British, in WW1 called , bum-fodder, which was shortened to bumf). I didn't need it, and anywhere I went it was available, but I didn't feel emotionally secure without knowing it was in my control to have it.
Off to bed now, and a mid-term tomorrow.
It's heavier than the cast, and bulkier, but I can remove it. So I did. I sat in the hot tub and sang paeans. I rubbed off a lot of dead skin. I felt the ankle (still swollen) and wondered at the knobby bit. I don't know if it an ossian-callosity (a lump healing on the bone) which will fade in time, or some other bit of the healing process.
I can adjust the bladders in the cast, so it's more closely fitted. I can also tuck my pants into it, so I have more sartorial options. I can wear socks directly on my foot, so I am warmer. The boot is also warmer than the cast was. I also have more ability to wiggle my foot in it, because it's a bit less rigid.
Those are the good bits. On the down side, I'm going to be in it for another month. I can put light/moderate weight on it. I actually stood, all on my own, for the first time in a month. That was strange. I have not taken a step, though I have let my foot roll across the floor, with no weight, as I crutched.
Cooking is easier.
There is some wasting, and some atrophy. It's not going to get better in another four weeks.
But I took a shower, standing under the water, with both legs bare.
My sense of balance is different. Standing on one foot, and turning on the ball of it, is normal. Standing in the shower I was only putting the other foot down for balance. I had to think to put any weight on it, and if I stopped paying attention to it, I took the weight off of it. I also used the shower-stool if I wanted to do anything which required moving to a not completely balanced state (e.g washing my hair).
It's so much nicer than the blue sock. I don't know how I'd have kept all my sanity without the sock but I am, glad to be able to put it into storage. I am loathe to pass it on to someone else; as with the percocet, I may not need it, but the thought of not having it is sort of scary.
I remember the same sort of hoarding/scarcity behavior after I got back from Iraq. I think it was more than 18 months before I was able to go someplace without a stash of toilet paper (what the British, in WW1 called , bum-fodder, which was shortened to bumf). I didn't need it, and anywhere I went it was available, but I didn't feel emotionally secure without knowing it was in my control to have it.
Off to bed now, and a mid-term tomorrow.
