An update on my ankle is due. Last week I had another checkup with the orthopaedic surgeon who stitched my bones back together. He’s always fun. He audibly winces every single time he sees the x-rays.

Good news though is that he says the tibia and fibula looked healed and it’s time to move into rehab! I have been free of the plaster cast for almost a week and am the proud owner of an aircast boot now. It was so nice to bathe and scrub off several months of dried skin. Yuck!

Another plus is that when I’m sleeping, stationary on the couch or at the computer for long periods, I can completely take off the cast and let my foot be open to air. Although, the first night I slept without it was quite a trial. I awoke several times during the night in a panic, terrified that my exposed foot was in imminent peril, almost like it was a being all its own and not attached to my body. Each time, it really was a surprise to find it still attached and not being crushed or maimed further.

Partial weight on that foot is all that I’m able to attempt at the moment, and so I’m fairly dependent on a crutch under my left arm still. Depending on my strength, length of distance needed to walk, how much I’ve been mobile that day and consequently how swollen and achy my foot is, I can support myself with whatever assistance necessary from the crutch. Occasionally I try to move around with the aircast cast off. That’s when the crutch becomes a literal lifeline!

The doc advised to walk on it and push myself as I am comfortable doing so. And when it swells, to put it up and treat it likes it’s still injured. I’ll be going to physical therapy soon – please pray that they get me in sooner rather than later as I have to be on a waiting list for the physio that will be covered by the province’s health insurance. Until then, I’ve started cooking a good bit more – albeit I was pooped out on Sunday, slept late *and* had a nap because of it. Ha! – and have tried not to feel like an invalid though I very much do.

There is some lesson in child-likeness here that I hope to find soon. Because as I walk down our halls balancing myself between the wall, a crutch, a hand, something, I recall the photograph of me as an infant first learning to walk off of the wall in my grandmother’s home. Sentimentality wells up to mix with my frustration, but into the mix I keep kneading in positive thoughts. Some certainly defiant and angry, while others hopeful and healing.

“… now for a little while
you may have to suffer through various trials,
so that the genuineness of your faith,
more precious than gold that is perishable even though tested by fire,
may prove to be for praise, glory, and honor
at the revelation of Jesus Christ.
Although you have not seen him you love him;
even though you do not see him now yet you believe in him,
you rejoice with an indescribable and glorious joy,
as you attain the goal of faith, the salvation of your souls.”
~ 1 Peter, Chapter 1

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