Going Under

A metal plate along with some screws and pins sounds more like a shopping list at the local hardware store than supplies for surgery, but that combo is what I’ve been told is necessary if I ever “want to have a functional ankle.”

My fibula has a complete break which changes into a spiral fracture, the whole thing running several inches long. My tibia also has a small break, which the surgeon says will heal on its own. The broken fibula has compromised the spacing of bones in my ankle. At least this is my layman’s take on many x-rays and explanations by doctors.

One concern of mine was whether or not I’d caused further injury by not seeking medical help sooner and hobbling on my bad leg lightly for two weeks. The surgeon assured me I hadn’t caused any more damage than was inflicted in the fall. That’s plenty.

The surgery scheduler asked me if I’d been prescribed any pain medication. She is the first person who has asked me about pain or analgesics since this whole freaking course of events began. I explained I’d been taking ibuprofen and she said to stop it. All I have now is acetominophen. I did discuss with the doctor the use of opiods post surgery and my concern about using them. He’s promised to prescribe the dosage in a way that weans me off instead of abruptly quitting. (See “Through the Wringer” published November 12, 2021.)

The best news of all (sarcasm alert) is that after the surgery I must not bear weight on my left ankle for TWO MONTHS! I purchased some crutches and I’m employing them at home but the learning curve is steep for me. My 57-year-old body, debilitated for years by fibromyalgia and major depression, isn’t naturally strong enough to handle this new activity. I bump and bounce off walls, and I occasionally touch down lightly on my boot. This won’t work after surgery.

My major concern, and one not addressed by any of the medical providers I’ve seen so far, is that I incurred all this trauma without tripping, slipping, or clipping anything. All I was doing was walking across my bedroom floor. How do I prevent this in the future? What the hell? One step at a time, I guess, if all goes well.