How depressing -_-

Fellow Bloggers,
Its been quite a while since my last post and I'm genuinely sorry for that. I have been 100% dedicating my time to taking care of my 8 month old son with only one leg! But now that I've got the hang of it I feel it's time to jump back on the ol' bloggin' wagon. So as I said before, this is going to be a pretty serious post so don't expect any giggles this time around, sorry. To pick up where I left off, it was the day after I got my boot. I felt like maybe I had transitioned from the splint a little to quickly, but then again i'm not a doctor. The first night was pretty rough. I had been tossing and turning trying to find a comfortable position to place the damn boot. This thing was hard to adjust to because it weighed so much, my poor calf muscle was already under conditioned and now it had to adjust to added weight thrown on after only two weeks since the surgery. I woke up groggy and disoriented mainly from the  lack of sleep, or was it the pain meds, and really had to use the bathroom. If you guys have ever been in this situation you feel my pain, but to those who don't, try and imagine for a second what it might be like to attempt to go number two when your body is loaded up with narcotics and your aren't as ambulatory as you once were. Its almost near impossible. It was so depressing sitting for a good 20 minutes trying to get your bowels moving, sorry if TMI but I'm just being honest, and nothing is coming out. Worst moments of my life right there. As you guys can imagine your going to need a care taker pretty much 24/7 for at least the first 4 weeks after your break, and even then it would be nice to have help a little longer. So the only person available at the time was my boyfriends mom, bless her heart, she came everyday at 8 in the morning after my boyfriend left to work to care for my son and I. Let me just say it was the most undignifying moments of my life. Here I am, her daughter-in-law, the women who is supposed to care for her son and grandson, the motherly figure of the house hold and she is witnessing me at my weakest moments. I felt so vulnerable. I couldn't fetch myself a glass of water, or grab a bite to eat, or change my own sons diaper without help. Needless to say, I was incredibly embarrassed. What really broke my heart was the fact that I couldn't care for my own child. I was his sun and moon before I broke my ankle, and then after, its like I was this person in the background that used to play a part in his daily routine. Most of the time I was so knocked out from my pain meds that i didn't even know what he was up too. I was missing out on moments. Everything I had worked so hard to establish with my son was ruined. He wasn't going to bed at the same time I had always done, or eating the same foods because his grandma was caring for him. I felt so worthless and so much like a burden. There were moments when I would just lie down and cry for hours. I was so depressed. I felt like I had no dignity. I also felt so angry and frustrated when any one left the house. Even on little trips to the grocery store, or to put gas in the car. Those moments became so important to me because I hadn't left the house in what felt like ages. I was so upset. The days blended into each other and before I know it I can manage my pain. At that point, right around the 4 week marker, I knew I wanted to start trying to be independent again. So I ask my boyfriends mom to take a day off so I can try doings things on my own. Thank the lord I took a chance because it helped me establish the system that I now do everyday. I didn't need her anymore after that and it was then that I realized I'm stronger than I think I am. Don't get me wrong I was incredibly scared to be on my own. How was I supposed to make a bottle when my boy was hungry, or carry him to the living room with me, or chase after him as he crawls into the kitchen?  But the desire to be independent, and normal, and self-sustaining again over powered the feeling of doubt and fear I had inside me. Eventually all the problems I thought I would encounter while caring for myself I ended up finding solutions for. I kept at it and now I' m doing much better. (More on that in the next post...)

What Was I Thinking?...Seriously?

Hey Guys! Okay so where to start? Hmm, I guess I'll start from the terrible mistake. So as you guys know, when you break your ankle and have surgery it's very hard to bathe. I mean unless you have a shower chair already, or unless you own like a plastic chair of some sort, your pretty much screwed. I had neither of those, so what I did was I wrapped my cast in a trash bag and tapped it to my leg with the only tape we own, (packing tape.) Here I am, wrapping my brand new cast in a trash bag while I can't feel the damn leg because my stupid ON Q pump medicine was still in my system. It was going alright besides the fact that my leg was virtually dead up to my butt cheek. So now my water is ready and I'm ready to get in. I figured since I had the bag over my cast in would be okay to put the leg in the water. WRONG. I was about 5 minutes into my bath when I realized I could feel a bit of warmth on my skin under the cast. So not good... I told my boyfriend to help me out quick. I was forcing myself out of the tub when my leg felt extra heavy. I crutched to the bed and ripped the trash bag off; it was full of water. My brand new cast was almost completely soaked on the back side. I rushed to the internet, and it said that I should try to blow dry it with cold air. Well that didn't work. Here I am all oily and now covered in dirty water while my foot is freezing off cause I'm drying my wet cast with cold air. It was not a good day for me. So I eventually give up and ask my boyfriend to take me to the emergency room to get this re-wrapped. Now the splint they gave me sucked. It was nothing like the beautiful cast my surgeon had put on me, not to mention it really hurt moving my freshly cut into foot around that much, but at least it was dry now. Lets just say the comfort didn't last long. The next day I couldn't take it anymore. The splint they gave me at the emergency room was wayyyyy to uncomfortable. My heel was being rubbed raw because there wasn't enough cushion and gauze, and it was put on crooked so my ankle was bent a weird way. My boyfriend didn't like it too much, but he took me back yet again to get it replaced. My poor foot :( It was being man handled so much. Finally this splint was actually comfortable. But just when I was getting used to it, I had my follow up appointment with my surgeon. So I go to this appointment thinking that he's going to redo the splint yet again, and I get all sad because I'm tired of taking my foot out and having it moved around. Instead of giving me a splint though, my awesome surgeon gives me a boot! Yay, this one is so much more comfortable, and adjustable, AND removable! It was great! I left there feeling so much better. No more splints, thank the heavens!



Now you guys see how ridiculous I am. I mean who puts a cast in the water, wrapped in a trash bag or not?! Well anyways, I wanna know if this have ever happened to you? Do you enjoy your boot or prefer a cast? Alright I'm off to bed, but next time I'll write about my experience with the boot and getting used to being dependent on people. It's gonna be a pretty serious post so don't miss out!