Doc had promised me that in two weeks he would remove the cast and the staples (glad he warned me of the staples. I thought I was going to have stitches. But at least I was prepared to be the bride of Frankenstein look I'd be sporting). He also promised that I would get a walking boot.
I’ll admit, I expected the staple removal ‘procedure’ to be a little more medical in it’s essence, but no. He pulled them out of my leg as if I were a sheet of paper… that oozed blood. He was quick, and it was relatively painless, and the staple remover was a streamlined version of the ones you get in office depot (in my opinion). Sort of left me wondering if the screw and plate in my leg were from home depot and put in with the aid of a Black & Decker drill… perhaps the blood and gore resistant version. I’m sure my doc would scowl at the thought, but still, it crossed my mind.
As he removed the staples while teasing me relentlessly, I realized that the incisions were a lot smaller than I thought they would be. I had given him a few hard times by being my ‘difficult’ self, but in truth, he’s a good doc. Not big on compassion or sympathy. But he knows his stuff, and he’s very precise and equally competent as well as confidant. Plus, a bit of a smart ass. All in all, a good mix for a patient with a broken leg, though I will always maintain that few OS’ take the time to comprehend what life is like for their patients. Perhaps being a surgeon leaves no room for compassion. I suppose it would be very bad if a surgeon got sympathetic during a procedure and thought about how painful the incision or adding of hardware will be when the patient awakens.
The walking boot looked like something Neil Armstrong wore for his trip to the moon… hence its nickname… the moon boot. It’s huge, grey and black with Velcro straps from the toe to just below the knee. I scowled when I saw it. Doc thought maybe I’d like it better in red. Wiseass. I didn’t refer to it as the moon boot though. After two steps with in on, it became very apparent to me that I was wearing a modified version of the moon boot… it’s sister… the gravity boot. Why ‘the gravity boot?’ Well, if good old Mr. Armstrong had stepped out of Apollo wearing these suckers, he would have hit the moon with a thud, gravity or no gravity. Our images of him would have been quite different that the bouncing, airy stepped ones we have all come to know and cherish.
For days, I was convinced that this ‘boot’ was going to snap my leg like a twig since all the weight of it is focused on the foot. All I could envision was my foot hanging like it once did on that ill-fated day of the fractures. But alas, my imagination got the best of me. Once I adjusted to the weight of the boot, I quickly became friends with her. She had a flat bottom, which meant I could use my BL to balance. Ah, life just got a little easier. Balancing on two feet is a wonderful thing when you have had to hop on one for a month. And a month is very little time compared to what some people on this site have had to endure. I still wasn’t weight bearing, but I could put my foot down. AMEN. The second perk of the boot... it was removable, which meant that once I got enough courage, I started leaving it off. At first, I would take it off to shower. Then I would begin leaving it off during the day when I wasn't walking. Later I would begin to sleep without it. This meant I could sleep on my sides again. How liberating! Yep, I came to love that dorky, clumsy looking thing.
A half hour later, my incisions were sealed with steri-strips (medical band aids that are essentially pieces of ‘special’ tape). And I was hobbling out of his office on crutches with a prescription for PT.