Tues. 6/23 - The Day After and The Day Before...

It's the day after my MRI results, and the day before my consult with an orthopedic surgeon. To say my journey to this day has been unexpected is an understatement, mostly because I connote the word "journey" with exciting adventures like hiking the Inca trail to Macchu Picchu, bungee jumping off bridges in New Zealand, sipping wines on cobblestone streets in Italy, or, at a minimum, hearing the lyrics to "Don't Stop Believin'" replaying in my head.

But "journey" is a lot easier to say and shorter to write than "a runner/mom-living-in-a-house-of-testosterone-and-ADHD/woman-living-with-anxiety-in-the-time-of-Covid's nightmarish reality," so let's go with "journey" for now.

So, a brief recap of my journey:

Sunday, 05/24 (Memorial Day weekend) - sliced the back of my ankle on the door of my shower; drop the kids off at friend/neighbor's house (their first "outing" to anywhere indoors other than our house after 3 months of quarantine!), I don my Covid mask and the hubs drops me off at the ER. I'm told I didn't cut the tendon and am stitched up with 5 vertical stitches with the instruction to schedule their removal in a week with my primary care doctor. When I tell the NP who stitched me that I'm having trouble putting weight on my foot without pain, she gives me a pair of crutches to "use for a few days," until the pain goes away.

Tuesday, 06/02 - Primary Care doctor removes stitches, is concerned the wound hasn't fully healed, refers me to podiatrist. Podiatrist reviews history thus far and indicates stitches for this kind of cut should never come out only a week later, but rather 2-3 weeks. He also says horizontal stitches would hold the wound together much more effectively, and is surprised I wasn't given a boot to wear and displace the weight/keep my ankle safe. I am re-stitched and told to wear the boot at all times except when sleeping or driving.

Tuesday, 06/09 - Check-in with Podiatrist, says stitches are holding up well and I should be able to get them removed next week.

Friday, 06/12 - I drive to pick up my kid from his "Modified for Covid Regulations Summer Camp" and since I have to drive, I don't wear the boot. Besides, it's only a short, 12 foot walk from door to child, so what can go wrong, right? Oh...that uneven sidewalk that I didn't notice. That's what. BAM! I fall in what I'd like to believe is a graceful rendition of a Swan Lake jeté from my ballerina days but definitely looked more like Bridget Jones falling off her stationary bike. I know immediately something is wrong. I DON'T hear or feel a pop so much as incredible strain, almost like a charley horse but not isolated to my calf and instead, running down from the calf to the ankle. A colleague of mine who runs the camp runs over and sits with me until I'm able to calm down through the pain, but I need her help to stand up and find I'm completely unable to bear weight on it. Luckily, her daughter, who's also our regular babysitter, is there, too, and hops in my car and drives me and my son home, where I ice it while I wait for my husband to return from baseball practice with my other son. I'm in pretty bad pain and take Advil before bed and elevate it, but it's clear I'll need to go to the walk-ins tomorrow to be seen by a doctor.

Saturday, 06/13 - I'm seen by Dr. P who confirms via X-ray that I haven't broken or sprained any bones in my ankle. He does the Thompson test on my leg to see if I have plantar flexion of the foot. I do... minimally. He says this is good news because it could indicate that I haven't torn my achilles, but also that it's possible I have a partial tear given the reduced plantar flexion I'm having during the test. He requests an MRI, the earliest of which I am able to schedule for Monday, 06/22.

Sat, 06/13 - Fri, 06/19 - Lots of swelling and bruising. It's like the United Colors of Bennetton on my leg over here. 

Wednesday, 06/17 - Podiatrist appointment. He says the stitches have healed nicely and removes them. He feels along the tendon and says that he's surprised to find it still in tact, but he, too, can't tell if there's a partial tear and agrees I should move forward with the MRI.

Sunday, 06/21 - I've continued icing regularly, but my anxiety about things I can't control kicks in and I start to panic that the jolts of pain I'm getting in my calf could be a blood clot. When I kiss my kids goodnight I give them each an extra tight hug just in case this is the last time they see me alive. You know. I case I die of a blood clot in my sleep. Then I send my husband out to Walgreens just before it closes to get me some Aspirin because it's a stronger blood thinner and it will help loosen up the blood. I'm so worried about a blood clot that I almost forget that I have an MRI the next day. Yes, living with anxiety sucks. 

Monday, 06/22 - MRI time. You'd think someone with anxiety would have extra trouble laying down in what is essentially a casket that shouts at you, but a half hour of shut-eye, calm music, a "massage" every time the machine shakes, all without the chance of a kid whining for more iPad time or asking me to wipe his butt, and we are in spa-central, baby. There's some schadenfreude going on as I take pleasure in knowing that, thanks to Covid closures, no one else can get the spa experience I'm getting right now, and for a half hour, I'm happy.

Happiness is short lived. The call from Dr. P arrives a few hours later. "It's a complete rupture of the achilles." He refers me to an orthopedic surgeon, and I get an appointment for Wednesday.

So that's where we're at. I haven't begun to fully process everything. I'm in between the place of "pity party" and "suck it up" and I know that I'll need to get to "own my new reality and make the most of it," but for now, I'm still just waiting. Waiting for tomorrow. Waiting for the answers that come with tomorrow's appointment. And by "waiting" of course, I mean "checking Google for other people's experiences with achilles tears, surgeries, recoveries, complications, side-effects, etc. for all of the waking hours until my appointment commences." Because going down the Google rabbit-hole is always a smart thing to do. 

I miss the "spa."

05/24 - Original injury, 5 stitches in the ER 

6/12 - Swelling/Bruising post-fall