It was such a bittersweet day. I got on the public transportation train to ride my few stops to the clinic, since I still can't drive. While I was riding, I kept thinking how it was my last trip to PT. I had 26 PT sessions with my first surgery, spread across 3.5 months, and another 8 sessions over 3 weeks with this surgery. With my total time at the clinic being around 2 hours a session, between working directly with my therapist, doing extra exercises and cardio, and icing, that makes 68 hours of my life spent at that clinic this year. When I started, I only had the first surgery, and by the end of these 7 months, I have been through 2 reconstructive surgeries containing 9 procedures in total, with 2 calcaneal bone wedges, 4 titanium screws, and one pin added to my feet. That is the bitter part, in addition to leaving my therapist and the clinic that has become my recovery "home." It has been the mission control center. The hub at the center of my recovery life.
While my work is not done, the sweet part is that I did feel a sense of accomplishment walking into the clinic today. As soon as my therapist called me back, he said, "This is graduation day." The rest of the appointment felt like that. It was a reflection on how far I have come and what I have accomplished up to this point. When this year started, I obviously did not expect to have to go through a second surgery, and when that was confirmed, I didn't think that I would already be up walking in tennis shoes and an ankle brace without needing any assistive devices. It was Day 77 with the first surgery, which puts me 25 days ahead of my old timeline.
After riding the bike for 10 mins and walking a couple of laps around the indoor track, the appointment started with an "eval." My therapist measured the ROM angles and strength of my feet to compare them to my baseline measurements. He created a progress report that I can give to my new therapist so that he will have this information. It has only been a few weeks of therapy with my second foot, but my ROM is already almost equal to my left foot values. While he was doing my measurements, he gave me this detailed running program that they rarely get to use in therapy. It further describes what he was telling me on Wednesday about starting as an aggressive power walker and then progressing from there. Based on my estimation from looking at the plan, it will probably take a year before I am really running again. I can't start following this plan until my tolerance for walking increases and my overall ankle strength and stability improves.
When we were on the fitness floor doing exercises, my therapist wanted me to try heel raises while standing on an elevated step. I was supposed to drop my heels below the 0 degree point (ground) and raise them as far as I could. I could drop my heels, but I couldn't raise them to any extent. Then we tried it on flat ground. This time, I was just supposed to try to raise my heels. Nothing happened. Next, he had me stand on the angled calf stretching block (toes angled up while heel is on the ground) and try to do heel raises from there. I could just barely get my heels off the ground this way. This was a huge wake up call. This is really the first time that I realized how much my neural connections to my feet have suffered. My brain was telling my heels to rise and absolutely nothing was happening, the same as before both surgeries. With my left, I feel that I have the strength, but not the neural connection. With my right, I have the neural connection, since I didn't have the tendon transfer, but I don't have the strength yet. I absolutely will not be able to run again until I can do heel raises. You need that in the toe off motion of the running form. The feeling of my left foot scares me the most, because I have always been worried about how the tendon transfer would affect the function of that foot. I am almost 7 months post-op with that foot. With the full recovery being around a year, I am starting to run out of time for getting function back in that foot. My therapist told me not to worry, so I just have to keep sticking to my therapy, and hope for the best.
After icing, I said bye to all the therapists that have worked with me and to the support staff at the clinic. It was difficult to leave but I know that I have a bright future ahead of me, that I am WALKING towards, and will eventually be RUNNING towards. I felt a sense of freedom, an air of relief, as I walked out of the sliding glass doors that one last time. I have accomplished an incredible amount to be walking out after everything I have been through. The most difficult parts are behind me. No more surgeries, no more incisions and their beautiful scars on my feet, no more casts or boots, no more learning how to walk again, no more relying on assistive devices (FINGERS CROSSED for all of these). In my new city, I will be focusing on progressing my right to the level of my left, and then progressing them both to high impact activities.
To my entire medical team that has worked with me up to this point, I have to say THANK YOU. Words can not describe how appreciative I am of the AMAZING group of people that have supported me from day 1 of this journey. And of course, a special shout out to my therapist, who taught me how to walk from scratch 2 times this year.
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The MOVE
When I returned home, the move was in full affect. A few of my friends were already there helping my parents get started. We all had to move everything as fast as we could, because the real issue was that we only had 4 hours to use the service elevator in my building. Crazy policy. Anyways, I put my lace up brace on my left and remained in my stirrup brace on my right and got to working. I was literally on my feet for the next 6 hours. I stayed in my apartment packing and staging stuff for everyone else to take to the elevators and to the moving truck. This was an attempt to minimize my walking as much as possible. We needed more time than the 4 hours they gave us, so we managed to use the elevator for about one extra hour. I also had to push back the key exchange meeting with the realtor. We literally were still moving stuff out of the apartment and down the regular elevator 10 mins before the realtor came. We were so rushed, that I ended up vacuuming my whole apartment, as my family and friends were moving my final stuff out. I have only vacuumed once or twice since my first surgery and normally just a room. I vacuumed the ENTIRE apartment. Needless to say, my feet were so painful by the end of the move that they just went numb. I literally couldn't feel them anymore. When we were finally done, my parents started driving the moving truck towards my new home. There are only 2 seats in the truck, so I am catching a flight in the morning.
We finished the move just in time for me to go to one last happy hour with my friends. I had to heavily rely on my walker to get around because my feet were so tired from PT and the move. That night, I tried to go to sleep, but of course my feet were throbbing the entire night, even after taking a Percocet.
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Reflection
I am leaving my current city with some things unresolved, but I have to move on. Everything doesn't get to end with a shiny bow tying your life together. I know better than most that life doesn't happen on your terms, it just happens. I have quite a lot to look forward to and a lot to look away from. I am hopeful for the adventures that are waiting for me in my new city.
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