Well, the deed has been done!

I went in for another round of ankle surgery yesterday.  It was one of those things that needed to get done.  I had known ever since my last surgery that I was goin' to need another one.  I can remember the conversations with my physical therapist goin' like this...

"I feel the exact same as I did before surgery."

"Nah, we'll fix you up."

"Well, I'll keep on comin', but..."

(six weeks later)

"I feel the exact same as I did before surgery."

"Yeah, your ankle hasn't changed a bit."

"hmm."

That was several months ago.  But I had dreams of goin' to Europe (consider that done, my friends!), and so I put off the surgery.  I spend 3 months rompin' around in Europe, and I would often have reminders of my pain.  I especially remember one time in Portugal...two guys and me were traipsin' through fields lookin' for a cave.  And walkin' on the uneven ground was wreaking havoc on my ankle.  It was one of those days where I just became really frustated with my ankle again.  Oddly enough, I've had several of those days in the past two years.  They just aren't fun.  I try to avoid them, but it's often impossible.  You try to ignore it or rise above it or whatever, but it keeps rearin' its head in subtle and often unexpected (though constant) reminders.

So I head to the doctor a couple weeks after gettin' back from Europe, and he does the ol' x-rays again.

Here is what I see as he comes back into the office (oh, and interesting side-note...this is the same doctor that I had passed out on last year [for the entire story, check out http://www.becauseihavenowife.com/doctoraccident.html]!  His first words to me were "How's your face"? when I walked in.  Frankly, I didn't want to talk about it, so I kind of ignored him!  But he told me he had written notes on my file...haha...I'm sure you did...)

Well, anyway, Doc comes in and throws the x-rays up on the bright screen.  "Oh, that's not right.  Hmm, that's not right...that is just not right."  And he keeps starin' at the x-rays!

I have no idea what is goin' on!  I just know that it is not right!

He just kept on sayin' that to himself, with me listening in the background!  Finally, he points to some bright white spot on the x-ray, looks back at me, and says that I have a bone just "chillin'" in my foot.  He's not supposed to be there.  So I ask 'em what needs to be done, and he says that that bone has to come out.  Surgery.  Granted, I had no doubt that the comment was coming, but I can still remember just having a weight thrown on me again.  Even though I expected it, I guess I didn't expect it, too.  I don't know if that even makes sense.  But I had to get that bone out of there.

Well, that was a few weeks ago, and I finally went under the knife yesterday.

I went in, and after two hours of pullin', Doc was finally able to get the bone out.  Ok, so I cannot be positive that is how it went, as I was down for the count, but that's what it sounded like when he called me this morning (yes, this doctor actually told me what he did after he was done!  woo hoo!).  He said I had a fractured bone that spread from the left side of my ankle all the way to the right side.  And he said it was a bear to get out of there.  But after workin' at it for a long while, they were able to get it.  Sounds good.

He's optimistic, and so am I.  yay!

And I was pleasantly surprised to wake up and find out that I had a walking boot on...and not a big cast!  The nurses told me that I could walk on my foot, and even through the deliriousness and drugs, I obviously considered them crazy.  But to keep 'em happy, I did use (meaning I put ALL of my weight on my other good foot) my surgerized ankle as I went from the bed to the wheelchair.

I felt incredibly dizzy and like throwing up on the way out to the car, but after askin' the nurse to stop, we retreated back through the double doors, and after some cold rags on the face, we were off again.

I went home, ate for the first time in 19 hours, slept for 1 1/2 hours, then woke up to gobble down 20 bacon-wrapped wienies.  Not a bad night if ya ask me!!!  Thanks, Mom.

So I've got 48 hours of ice and elevation, and then we'll see what the doctor recommends in 9 more days.  But I am walkin' around the house, and that's just a good feeling a day after surgery.

So...that's me.  Thanks for the phone calls, prayers, and thoughts!  I really do appreciate 'em all!

Who knows...Maybe I'll be flyin' sooner than I expected!!!