Rainy Days and Mondays

Actually, it's semi-sunny (though clouds are moving in) and almost 50 degrees F here, so the title of this post is a tad misleading. It IS Monday, however, so it's not all a total lie. And since it's Monday 3/3, we all know what that means: T-minus one week until my next appointment when Dr. G hopefully tells me that I can (A) start putting pressure on MBLF, and (B) start rehabbing ASAP. Keep your fingers crossed.

I'm actually pretty excited about next week's appointment. I'm also incredibly nervous. I'm having some "what-ifs" -- What if he tells me I have to stay off the foot for four more weeks? What if he tells me it didn't heal correctly? What if he tells me this is as good as it will ever get? What if I stand and put pressure and then reinjure? What if I have to start all over again?

In addition (and I'll be really honest here) I'm not looking forward to having pain again. Though MBLF doesn't feel *good* or even normal most of the time, the acute pain has faded since surgery to the point where it's really not painful, just uncomfortable. And the thing is, I know pain is coming: rehab/PT is actually more painful than dealing with the majority of post-injury recovery, if memory serves. I have to teach my leg how to function again, make muscles and bones and everything else bear weight (and let's face it, it's a LOT of weight) after being on vacation for months and months.

I have to learn to walk again.

It's not easy work, and it takes a loooooong time. It's frustrating when suddenly you can't even stand up long enough to do stupid exercises with a bouncy ball. Your arms and hands hurt from the crutches you have to use. Body parts of which you were never aware suddenly ache at all hours of the day and night. Your "good" leg screams from all of the weight and pressure it's constantly under. Muscle spasms lay you out as your leg just jerks and moves outside of your control. And I don't really take pain meds, to be honest: I generally prefer the sharpness of pain to the numbness of drugs.

So that's the immediate future, but I'm ok with it even if I'm more-than-a-little scared. At the end of this very long road, no more wheelchair. No more walker. No more hopping to the bathroom, and no more lugging around Das Boot. It will be worth it. I know it. Besides, it's not as thought I really have a choice.