CrutchWatch '07: They tried to make me go to rehab but I said...okay.

Saturday was my first day without crutches, a relief indeed. The doc wanted me to start putting weight on my ankle, and he even gave me this gel brace thing, but all it did was irritate a nerve in my lower outside calf. So, Saturday was spent on my ankle wrapped tightly in an ace bandage, and it held up pretty well. I'm still taking elevators everywhere I go, and I'm still limping due to a loss of flexibility in the ankle, but it's all good, overall.

Yesterday I managed to get in to see a physical therapist in the rehab/PT department at my particular HMO. A nice enough fellow, he seemed rather impressed that I was "walking;" evidently, most people who do what I did are still on crutches three weeks later. He gave me some rubber bands to use to help strengthen my ankle and improve range of motion, then gave me the first of two wonderful pronouncements: "You've got fluid in your ankle still, and it needs to get out. Keep your ankle elevated anytime you can and as much as you can, and here are some massages that your husband needs to do to help get the fluid out."

Um, wait. Guy has to rub my foot once a day? To help me get better? Now this should be interesting.

And it was. I made the mistake of asking Guy to rub my foot while he was in the final rounds of an internet poker game and watching the Nuggets stomp the Cavaliers on ESPN. My at-home rehab went like this:

Guy: [pawing distractedly at my injured foot while clicking with the mouse] Okay, here you go.
Me: OUCH! Not so hard! It's an easy motion, like a squeegee from my toes down... [making hand motion]
Guy: Uh-huh. [watching Carmelo Anthony at the free throw line]
Me: You're not even looking. Look, it's like--
Guy: [clicking mouse, looking at computer screen] I'm doing it! Look, I'm rubbing your foot!
Me: No you're not! [throwing hands in air] This is hopeless! Maddy, come rub Mama's feetie!
Maddy: [in floor] Mrroow!

And so it went. Now Guy's out of town for his last trip on his present project, which means I'm having to self-squeegee my foot. Good thing I do yoga--I'm actually flexible enough to reach past my foot when sitting and leaning forward. However, Maddy still refuses to rub my foot. She just sort of bonks it with her head.

The other wonderful pronouncement from the physical therapist was that, in a couple of months with steady work, I will most likely run again. Were the ankle not injured this would make me leap with joy. I cannot adequately express how happy this makes me. Running, moving quickly under my own power, is an antidepressant and stimulant for me. It makes me feel strong, competent, powerful. Knowing that I will/can eventually return to my favorite activity, I can be patient through the winter.

Meanwhile, MHRC slogs on. I haven't felt like posting about it because it's so mundane, or at least it's mundane to me. The procedure suite is getting built, we should have a permit any day now for the radiology department, and multiple other little projects ebb and flow. I have some funny/interesting things to post this week, just need to get the energy. I never realize how tiring my days are, limping and hopping around, until I get home at 5:45 and nearly fall into a chair, just worn out.