#frightrollson

Day 24: Sweak a Breat and Shake a Tower

Or rather, break a sweat and then take a shower. A shower without having to wear the boot, that is! 

This was the most active I’ve been since, well, June 11. Not too crazy exercises but it definitely helped work up my heart-rate. 

15 push-ups

15 crunches

15 front lat raises with 7lb kettle-bell

15 side lat raises  with 7lb kettle-bell

15 shoulder presses with 7lb kettle-bell 

15 tuck crunches

15 oblique crunches

15 shoulder push-ups

15 triceps push-ups

15 crunches

15 lateral arm lifts  with 7lb kettle-bell

Repeat with reps of 10. 

6 pull-ups 

Moving from the chair to the floor was a workout in itself. . .

Day 31: FLEX IT!

3 weeks and 6 days after surgery I started daily (doctor approved) ankle flexing. Only permitted to do very minimal movement without any assistance. Well. Definitely have lots of work to do, but check out that toe movement!

Days 32 - 34: Not Something Else to Worry About 

Pain which seems localized to just under my left rib cage started three days ago. Initially, I thought it was trapped gas or some type of muscle spasm. Then the burping started and I realized ho much it hurts when I inhale deeply. Additionally, my burps are labored and more often than not leave an acidic/bile after taste in my mouth. My throat is also getting sore. I am fatigued and have a major loss of appetite. There are a myriad of things it could be. . .  Causes of Pain Under Left Rib Cage lists just a few of the possible diagnoses. You know, using Doctor Google can quickly lead down a rabbit hole of patient comments or rather horror stories about diagnosed mystery illnesses. Bearing that in mind, I tried to be as rational as possible while looking for home remedies if available. . .

There are certain positions which help alleviate the pain slightly, but nothing really helped and as time went by, my pain just worsened.

 And today? I totally lost it. Tears, so many tears unleashed due to building frustration and pain. Probably the most tears I’ve had during this entire ankle recovery, actually. I cried in the car with my mom as we drove up to the doctor’s office, I cried in the doctor’s office, then I cried again in the radiology office as we failed to secure an x-ray appointment for me due to the inability of my doctor’s office to complete a referral form properly. (Oh yes, then I cried once more as we drove home, but who’s counting moments of emotionally charged vulnerability?)

I am terrified this is going to be a bigger problem and really hope that my body is just super sensitive right now. It might just be a gnarly case of trapped gas, right? It really puts a dent in my recovery process as I’ve been diligently eating well and taking various supplements to help the bone, ligament, and joint healing. But I haven’t been able to take my supplements since most of them I have to take with food . . . and I haven’t been eating regularly. My body is now spending energy on two traumas.

I really want to get to the bottom of this sooner rather than later. Unfortunately, the nurse practitioner I saw at my primary care office didn’t even want to acknowledge that it might be a hiatal hernia and kept asserting it was unlikely a digestive issue. Then, she went on listing a bunch of other possible causes (H. Pylori, ulcers which I have had in the past, rib intermittent hyper-mobility syndrome, small intestine issue. . . ). I don’t understand why she was so adamant about rejecting the hernia. I get that she’s the medical professional, but I know my symptoms. On top of it all, because I started crying in the office, she started telling me things I need to take to help my mood. WTF? Lady, I had surgery for a broken ankle and torn ligament a month ago now -- I’m allowed to be upset and spontaneously burst into tears because you don’t know what is wrong with me and my priority for the past month has been recovering from the damned ankle injury. And if it’s a hiatal hernia, fuck, can someone please just put it back down through my esophagus and away from my rib cage?! 

Day 13: I Get Knocked Down . . . but I Get Up Again

What I had been fearing most since I started relying on crutches happened today.

A crutch slipped out as I was trying to stand up and I fell, landing on my right (injured) leg.

After about 30 minutes of tears, I resolved to modify my current living arrangement. We shifted around the couch to create a better up-down access point for me in the living room.

This is how I live now.

Day 14: Let’s Get Physical

I had grand plans of doing some exercise today but turns out only 5 pull-ups were what I could muster before my stomach started getting upset. And since my big goal was to attend my league’s doubleheader games the next day, I didn’t want to over do it.

Still! 5 PULL-UPS!

Day 15: A Day at the Derby

A test day of sorts. This was a mentally and emotionally trying day. My home team was playing first and I sat in this lovely reserved area, complete with padding for my foot, which my teammates sectioned off for me with tape on the chair that said “Fright.” 

Not a bad view at all!

My team even came over to include me in our cheer right before the first whistle. Not gonna lie, I got a bit choked up.

Well, it was a hard-fought game. But it wasn’t easy to watch. Not because we had 11 skaters (they killed it). Not because we lost (we did, but it wasn’t a blowout). Not because it was a bad game (it wasn’t). But it was hard for me personally because I wasn’t able to play with them or even coach on the sidelines. Because I’m just not physically capable of it right now. Shit, I can’t even bend my toes let alone walk!

So I made the (probably poor) decision to consume a few beers and most of a small pizza. Call it an epic cheat day which I was bound to regret the following day . . .

Despite the emotional roller-coaster, it was great to be out and about. To see everyone basking in the BAD Pride, PRIDE-Pride, and roller derby. I even stayed for a bit of the second game!

For the second game, a co-worker’s raffle ticket was called as the winner for the VIP couches (which were right next to the section I had been sitting in). So naturally, we shifted to those because lush. Unfortunately, I was starting to fade halfway into the second game and had to leave these lovely Pirate City Rollers to enjoy the view alone.

Day 17: From Surgical Splint to Boot

For some reason unbeknownst to me, I thought going from the splint to the boot would bee a magical step in this recovery process that promised more relief and comfort. Hot damn, was I wrong!

But before the boot was put on and after the splint came off, I felt so much freedom and relief as my foot was greeted by fresh (questionable?) orthopedist’s office air.  Then I took a look at the 12 day-old incisions. . .

Not too much disruption to my Hyrulian Crest! Plus, chicks dig scars, right? ;P

And then we did X-rays. I had been looking forward to this part of the appointment because I wanted to check out what my hardware looked like. Well, it’s pretty clear I had some work done!

That long screw is quite menacing, however. I may need to find out why it had to be so big.

Alas, doc updated my timeline: 3 weeks more. Non-weight bearing still. But now I’m in a removable boot which I am not supposed to remove. 

I can take it off to shower - but can’t do that for another week.

After a couple more weeks, I’m allowed to take it off to start some gentle ankle flexing and exercises but only on my own.

I asked if I was allowed to take it off to sleep and he told me no. Which is definitely a bummer.

--

Dual and I took a side trip to Target on the way home to get an rolling office chair which is intended to facilitate my kitchen activities. Excitement and more goals to achieve! This motor-cart was actually a bit of a pain to operate.

But trying to sleep and just get generally comfortable in the boot has been rough. 

I am constantly reminding myself this is not the hardest thing in the world, and it could be so much worse. But it really freakin’ sucks! I can’t recall a time when I’ve felt more helpless and useless than I have these past 18 days. On top of it all, my stomach and GI tract are in rebellion and haven’t been cooperating with me or each other. It’s really hard to eat all of the food I should be eating. At least I’ve been taking extra supplements to ensure I’m getting target nutrients and vitamins in addition to bone broth and green juice. 

There have been quite a few downs. But I’m in a “fake-it-til-I-make-it” mindset. I consider achieving my small goals as victorious ups. For example: Getting up to brush my teeth without someone bringing a bowl and my toothbrush to me. Achievement unlocked. Though my energy is substantially low by the end of the day/right before bed, I know I have the strength to push it just a little more to do these small things by myself.

Tomorrow is the first day I’ll be truly alone in the morning, so a new achievement will have to be unlocked:

Night Before Surgery

Tomorrow I have surgery for my first “broken” bone and a torn ligament in my ankle. My second surgery ever. First surgery was twelve years ago, also on my right foot, but for a complex dislocation of my second toe. Again, I was injured doing something I love, dancing, and planned to get right back into it as soon as surgery, healing, and physical therapy permitted. (Which I did.)

Back to the present. Tomorrow marks five days after breaking my ankle playing roller derby - mid-game in LA at Angel City’s Warehouse during BAD’s first game of PAC Destruction 2016 v. Terminal City. At least I called off the jam.

I felt something POP, my foot hyper-extended, and then collapsed underneath me. I had just cleared the pack with a juke and was exploding forward to sprint out of the engagement zone, ready to skate more laps to get my team more points. However, as soon as I felt that POP I knew I had to call off the jam. 

As I fell to the ground, I thought I was going to get right back up, skate it off, and go back to my bench to hop back into the jammer rotation. I was wrong. I couldn't get up. My right foot was dead weight and felt like it was dangling.

I was angry with my ankle and myself. I was upset I had to call off the jam because my ankle hurt. I was devastated I couldn't finish the rest of the game or the weekend. I was angry that the pain wasn’t subsiding and that my foot felt unbearably heavy in my skate. I was distraught that my skate no longer felt like a lightweight extension of myself but instead it was something trapping my foot and causing more pain to my ankle.

Confused, upset, angry, sad, frustrated, annoyed, aggravated, in pain, wanting to be left alone, devastated...this picture captured all of those feelings at once.

My captains and teammates were immediately by my side, the EMTs responded rapidly, volunteers were ready to assist if needed, and my friends (in the crowd or on other teams) were at the ready to help in any way they could.

The community came together to assist a fallen skater. I felt so much love,  support, and encouragement from each and every individual who helped. 

To those who carried me off the track, wrapped my leg, held my hand and told me to squeeze, reminded me to breathe, gave me a hug or high five, carried me to the car, drove me to the ER, stayed with me in the ER, brought me snacks and pain remedies, sent messages, posted cat media and other funny things to my Facebook, shared articles and support groups, provided knowledge, insight, and compassion, you have filled me with so much positive energy and hope. I thank you for everything you have done to help me through this injury. Please know that I will be there for you, too.

With all of the crazy bullshit going on in the world, I know first-hand there are amazing and beautiful people, near and far, just doing their thing and making the world a better place through their regular acts of kindness and compassion.

But there was still a game to finish and I know it wasn’t easy for either team. There’s a distinct sinking feeling that often comes with watching an injured teammate get carried out of the venue. . .  but the quad skates hit the track and roller derby resumed after I was taken to the ER. And I’m proud of my BAD All-Stars for coming together as a team and pushing on to victory. Know I’ll be back. Strong. Determined. Focused. Fearless.

To be fair, the realization of how long I'll be out hasn't truly hit me quite yet. But as another friend reminded me, though it sounds cliché, I need to take the early trauma and healing stage one day at a time, rest, relax, and look after myself right now.