I am sitting alone in my room, eating chocolate and feeling sorry for myself. It is 7:11pm and I am trying to figure out what to do with my evening. I have been trying to figure it out for over an hour. This makes me feel even sorrier for myself and then I feel pathetic. Feeling pathetic about myself makes me feel, pathetic.
I had my 3rd X-ray on my ankle yesterday. It has been 4 weeks since the doctor's appointment where we discussed my MRI and I was told they had messed up, I have a fractured talus bone and should never have been walking. I should have stayed off it for 3 months they said...so, here we are 4 weeks later and doctor enters the room and tells me my x-rays look good. I stopped in the middle of taking off the huge walking boot and looked at him stunned. "They do?!" Yeah, he replies and then realizes I think he means like, Really good and quickly tells me that though I am healing, the fracture line is still present. There appears to be less of a gap in the fracture than before, everything is going very well and I am making progress. However, the fracture line is still there and he recommends 4-6 more weeks on crutches.
WHAT?!
He can see me tear-up. When I ask what else I can do to speed things up he asks me if I am taking calcium and magnesium supplements and I tell him I am and spinach shakes...I trail off and he lightly puts his hand on my knee and this is where I know I look quiet visibly upset and he tells me I am doing all I can do and to just rest and stay off the ankle. He'll see me in 4 weeks. I ask him for a prescription for the knee scooter/big tricycle I rented and he said I could pick it up at check-out. I go schedule my appointment for 4 weeks from now, December 9th...and we head home. I cry.
The rest of the day yesterday was actually quiet pleasant, I got a lot of sleep, then made quinoa and a pumpkin cranberry bundt cake. I got to spend the afternoon with my honey. I felt energetic, and positive. I wasn't going to let it get me down...I was bummed out, but I have mostly gotten used to the crutches, walker, wheel chair and the new rented tricycle.
I had actually totally prepared myself for this outcome since he said I should have been on crutches for at least 3 months to begin with and I had in fact only been on them for 4-ish weeks. So, though through meditation and positive self-talk for the last 4 weeks I had convinced myself I was in fact healed, I needed to make sure I was ready for the bad news too. And, here's the part where I ALWAYS drive myself crazy...Was I prepping myself for this bad news because I knew in my heart of hearts I was not quite so healed, or was I not quite so healed because I let myself doubt?
So, I now await December 9th...and try to figure out how I am gonna pull through it...I am gonna need to figure out how to car shop because that is dangerously close to my partner switching jobs to one further away. Close to me annoying the crap out of the lady who has been generous enough to take me to and from work. Close to Christmas and shopping and me just plain ol' needing my freedom and alone time in the car before work. So, today I just kinda accepted it...It didn't affect my mood as much as I thought, or feared...I did cry some yesterday morning, but I expected this to really piss me off. It hasn't. It wore me back out for a bit...
So, why feel sorry for myself now? What's the point? Where's my hobby...?
I had my 3rd X-ray on my ankle yesterday. It has been 4 weeks since the doctor's appointment where we discussed my MRI and I was told they had messed up, I have a fractured talus bone and should never have been walking. I should have stayed off it for 3 months they said...so, here we are 4 weeks later and doctor enters the room and tells me my x-rays look good. I stopped in the middle of taking off the huge walking boot and looked at him stunned. "They do?!" Yeah, he replies and then realizes I think he means like, Really good and quickly tells me that though I am healing, the fracture line is still present. There appears to be less of a gap in the fracture than before, everything is going very well and I am making progress. However, the fracture line is still there and he recommends 4-6 more weeks on crutches.
WHAT?!
He can see me tear-up. When I ask what else I can do to speed things up he asks me if I am taking calcium and magnesium supplements and I tell him I am and spinach shakes...I trail off and he lightly puts his hand on my knee and this is where I know I look quiet visibly upset and he tells me I am doing all I can do and to just rest and stay off the ankle. He'll see me in 4 weeks. I ask him for a prescription for the knee scooter/big tricycle I rented and he said I could pick it up at check-out. I go schedule my appointment for 4 weeks from now, December 9th...and we head home. I cry.
The rest of the day yesterday was actually quiet pleasant, I got a lot of sleep, then made quinoa and a pumpkin cranberry bundt cake. I got to spend the afternoon with my honey. I felt energetic, and positive. I wasn't going to let it get me down...I was bummed out, but I have mostly gotten used to the crutches, walker, wheel chair and the new rented tricycle.
I had actually totally prepared myself for this outcome since he said I should have been on crutches for at least 3 months to begin with and I had in fact only been on them for 4-ish weeks. So, though through meditation and positive self-talk for the last 4 weeks I had convinced myself I was in fact healed, I needed to make sure I was ready for the bad news too. And, here's the part where I ALWAYS drive myself crazy...Was I prepping myself for this bad news because I knew in my heart of hearts I was not quite so healed, or was I not quite so healed because I let myself doubt?
So, I now await December 9th...and try to figure out how I am gonna pull through it...I am gonna need to figure out how to car shop because that is dangerously close to my partner switching jobs to one further away. Close to me annoying the crap out of the lady who has been generous enough to take me to and from work. Close to Christmas and shopping and me just plain ol' needing my freedom and alone time in the car before work. So, today I just kinda accepted it...It didn't affect my mood as much as I thought, or feared...I did cry some yesterday morning, but I expected this to really piss me off. It hasn't. It wore me back out for a bit...
So, why feel sorry for myself now? What's the point? Where's my hobby...?
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