These emails make me sad

It's only going to get harder

My follow up appointment with the orthopedist was just over two weeks ago. As I expected, he had another x-ray taken to see how the break is healing and then basically told me no, I still can’t do much of anything. No walking for exercise, no strength work, no yoga, definitely no running, nothing. Oh OK, he said, I could do some light swimming. He was very clear that I wasn’t to spend hours in the pool, and then had me schedule another follow up appointment six weeks later. He did show me what he called the "fluffy bone callus" where the break is healing. I don't know that I'd have described bone as fluffy but I did see it on the x-ray.

The day after that appointment, I ditched the crutches at work and in typical Elizabeth fashion, promptly overdid it by including some stairs as I walked from meeting to meeting. While the pain never rose to the same level as when the break was diagnosed, I was pretty uncomfortable even while just sitting still. I called the orthopedist that day and asked for guidance (because yes, apparently I am that woman who needs to be told to stop doing something) and was told to stop weight bearing until I could do it with no pain. Well, OK, I went back on the crutches until this last weekend. I’ve been able to go without them at work this week, although I still have weird, random times when that fracture site just gets seriously annoyed. I wish I could figure out what the common denominator was, but honestly there doesn’t seem to be one.

Plastic Birks so I don't slip
and fall at the pool

I’ve also started light swimming. I took swim lessons for years as a kid—I’ve got fond memories of the YMCA in Bryn Mawr and I’ve always loved the water. It’s good for me right now because it’s non-weight bearing, I can get my heart rate up and get a bit of a cardio workout.

But at the same time, it doesn’t have the same positive mental impact on me that running does. With running, I think differently and I’m outside seeing things, noticing the neighborhood, it’s quiet and lovely and my own private time. I worked for years on my running form and had reached the point where I didn’t need to focus on my form every minute of my run. I could get in a zone and just go with it. Swimming though, isn’t nearly so automatic. There’s so much to think about and focus on, it’s noisy what with all the exhaling under water and I’m not especially good at it. I miss having something I excel in.

I hope I’m cleared for some more activity in early September, although I fear I won’t be. I mean, at this point he hasn’t even brought up physical therapy, which is discouraging. And I think I’m moving into the really tough part of recovery, where I’m going to be pain-free or mostly pain-free but still not cleared to do anything.

About the photo on the left: I use two different types of goggles because they both leave serious marks on my face and this way, I'm distributing those marks. And that swim cap works pretty well. While some of my hair does get wet, the cap keeps water out of my ears which I think is pretty amazing.

Thoughts while temporarily less than fully abled

I’ve been on crutches just over a month now. Good thing I already had strong arms, shoulders and back! I haven’t had any muscle soreness there. What I’ve had instead is pain in the heels of my hands, especially the left hand, I’ve developed a weird discrete lump on the top knuckle of my left thumb on the outside (not the palm side). It’s not in the joint, it’s clearly separate and I’ve noticed that it gets bigger (and more painful) if I’ve been using the crutches a lot and goes down when I’m on them less. Oh and my left pinky finger is on fire (guessing tendons or ligaments or something).

Basement stairs are on the right

When Kent and I bought our home just over five years ago, we thought this house would be suitable for aging in place. After being on crutches this long, I think we were mostly right. It’s a ranch house, so the only stairs are the couple of stairs to get into the house (front door or through the garage), and the stairs to get to the basement. However, while I can manage the stairs to the garage, if I were truly disabled, say needed a walker, I’m not sure I could get into the garage directly from the house. If you look at the picture, you can see the problem. The stair at the door to the house is narrow front to back, and we can’t add another stair because the stairs to the garage are right there. We can’t move the stairs to the garage, or at least we couldn’t move them without a lot of money and somehow rebuilding the entire garage because the stairwell is concrete.

The shower in the master bathroom might be problematic if either of us were truly disabled—it’s got a lip about four inches tall and three inches wide, but that could be fixed. The other bathroom has a tub/shower combo so that one would just go unused.

It’s also been interesting to see how people react or don’t react when I’m out and about. People at work have been great, offering to hold doors, help me set up for meetings, things like that. When I’ve been out with Kent running errands, some people notice and are careful to give me extra room but a lot are just flat out oblivious. Since I’m the one who’d pay if I got knocked over, I stay extra vigilant. Children are, ironically, mostly the best about paying attention. I suspect it’s because they see the crutches more because of their eye height. When they notice, I can tell they’re really curious and they often stare almost rudely (I take zero offense). However, if children are roughhousing in a store or chasing each other, then I really have to pay attention. They are so focused on their fun that they often don’t see me until it would be too late.

I can tell the fracture is healing, although not fully healed. When I am at home, I can lurch around a bit with either one crutch or sometimes no crutches. But based on everything I've read (thank you, Dr. Google), I need to give this fracture plenty of time to heal. Others who've had the same injury have reported it taking months (like four, five, or more). My long term goal remains to return to running so I will (or not do) what it takes to get there.