2 Weeks Post Surgery + CAM Boot

After my surgery, I spent 2 weeks in a soft splint/cast that came up right below my knee. I can't tell you how good it felt to be able to finally bend my leg after having that monster, thigh-high plaster cast on for almost a month.
The pain was relatively manageable. The doctor prescribed me Oxycodone, and I took it as prescribed for the first week, and decided to stop cold-turkey. I immediately started feeling like I was coming down with the flu, my whole body was aching, I was having cold sweats- it was the worst. After a month+ of being on painkillers, my body was NOT happy.

During these two weeks I celebrated my birthday, and actually left the house a couple of times, which really helped my state of mind a little bit.

On October 22nd, I had my two week follow up appointment at 830AM.

Now,I have discovered something invaluable. When you have free healthcare, take the earliest appointment they can get you. For some reason, this time around I was in and out in only 2.5 hours time. That's a record.

My actual appointment started with me getting my cast cut off. Now, the last time my cast had been cut off, my ankle just sort of hung there and felt completely disjointed. This time, it still felt weird, but I could feel the hardware holding everything in place. Nothing was drooping, which felt pretty nice actually. My foot/leg did look super disgusting though. I hadn't shaved in over a month, there was dry skin, blood….it was basically the Frankenstein of leg/ankles.

Next they had me get some x-rays. This was the first time I actually got to see what my ankle looked like. One plate 7 small screws and two big screws. For some reason I had expected there to be a lot more metal- at one point there had been talk of two plates, so I was pretty excited that it was only one.

My hardware

After the x-rays, this lovely young lady (I'm not sure if she was just a med student or a resident or what), cut off my stitches. She was really sweet. Stitch removal was not as horrible as I thought it would be, except for couple where my skin had already begun to grow over. She told me that this meant that my body was great at healing.

Once the stitches were removed, a young male doctor came in to talk to look at the x-rays and to discuss how to move forward.

He said that my x-rays looked great, but that they were going to put me in a cast for about a month to let the bones finish healing.

I asked the doctor if I could have the boot instead. You see, I had read a lot of different trimalleolar stories, and the couple that seemed to heal the fastest were the ones that went directly to boot post surgery.
My doctor hesitated.
"I won't put any weight on it, I'm super responsible, I'd just like to start working on the flexibility and foot strength and not be in a cast or another month", I promised.

The doctor considered this, and then asked me to wait while he consulted his supervisor. The med-student/maybe doctor girl said that I had a good chance, but that it was usually protocol to put people into a cast, because most people who got the boot tried to walk on it, and often had to come in the get another surgery.

I reassured her that I had NO intention of doing anything that would make me have to go into surgery again.

Then the supervisor doctor came in, and I must say he looked really dapper in a bow tie and suit. He looked at my foot, and told me I looked trust-worthy and that I could have the boot.

I was elated. They fitted me for a black cam-boot, and then had me meet with a Physical Therapist who showed me different stretches, and strength building exercises.

It's actually pretty scary, trying to move and stretch your ankle to get range of motion back into it. I kept feeling like if I pushed too hard something was going to break. The PT said that feeling was super normal, and that if just did the exercises a couple of times a day, I would start seeing a noticeable difference.

And with that my new cam boot and I were discharged and sent home.

My foot at home, post-visit. I know my other foot looks super skinny and zombie like- it's not really THAT bad,but since the surgery, I have lost a little weight. I blame the fact that its A LOT harder for me to go eat diner food at 2AM now that I have a broken ankle.

Five Hour ORIF Surgery

Finally, I got the call. My doctor told me that barring any sort of catastrophe, I was scheduled for surgery on October 7th.

Now, it had been three weeks since I broke my ankle, and I was starting to feel crazy in my knee-high cast. I asked my doctor if the surgery would impact the healing that had already taken place.

"Any calcium build up that's occurred, we'll have to shave away in order to install the hardware", was the answer I got.

Don't get me wrong. I was ecstatic that the surgery was finally happening. But those three weeks of laying around in a heavy cast felt like time I would never get back. They meant nothing, a purgatory of sorts- neither contributing or detracting from my healing process. It felt like a bit of a blow.


On October 7th, my boyfriend drove me to the hospital at 5AM. The OR surgery waiting room was already filling up with people. Around 7AM, they called my name, and my boyfriend helped me make my way to the OR Surgery.

Once inside they had me change out of my clothes into a hospital gown. They gave my clothes to my boyfriend, and he had to leave.

Then they cut my ankle out of my cast, and let me tell you, it's really scary having a weird saw drilling that close to your leg, no matter how "safe" they supposedly are. The doctor came and looked at my leg, and told me that my surgery would probably happen around 11:30 .

After the cast was removed, a PT came by, and had me show him how I was using my crutches. This felt horrible, mostly because my ankle felt so strange being out in the open like that without any support.

The PT left, and I was allowed to put my leg back into the lower part of the cast for support. I was shivering, partly because I was scared, and partly because it was freezing, so a sweet nurse got me a blanket and helped me elevate my leg so that it felt comfortable.
I drifted off into a light slumber, and woke up around 10AM.

The next doctor I met was my anesthesiologist, and she was basically the best.

She was so caring, nurturing and explained everything to me in such a great way that it really made me feel a little more comfortable. She saw right away how scared I was (despite my making little jokes and giggling nervously), and kept reassuring me that I would be ok.
They were putting me under, and administering a nerve block into my leg, which would keep me from feeling anything. I know many people are against getting anesthesia, but personally, I was ALL ABOUT NOT FEELING OR SEEING MYSELF CUT OPEN.

And then, they wheeled me into the surgery room.

And then…

Well, I don't remember anything else. I don't actually remember being in the surgery room, or even how I got there, to be honest.

I woke up around 5PM, in the recovery part of the OR. It was fairly empty- perhaps the other patients I was admitted with had shorter surgeries?
It felt really strange waking up there, and I never got to talk to my surgeon or anyone who had actually been present for my surgery. I had no idea how it went, but I presumed well, since no one had anything to say to me.

My boyfriend and best friend came into see me and bring me my clothes. My boyfriend had to run to make it to work, but he later told me that my surgery took about 5 hours (in my head I thought it would only take 1-2 hours?), during which he though he saw one of my doctors take a lunch break? Haha, can you imagine. All the doctors working on my ankle, and then clocking out for 30 minutes to eat lunch?

Anyways, my best friend was tasked with bringing me home. I was so groggy from the pain meds and anesthesia that it was quite an undertaking. On the car ride home, I started feeling super nauseous, and when we got to my house I made it about halfway up the stair before I threw up. Luckily I had nabbed a puke bag from the hospital, so at least I had that going for me.
Throwing up made me feel better, and I made it up all the way to my door before I realized I had locked myself out. Luckily one of my other friends had a key to my place, and after a few phone calls, we were inside.

Laying down in my bed felt so good. I couldn't feel any pain yet (yay nerve blocker), and the painkillers gave everything a soft edge. My best friend and I watched some silly movies (that I drifted in and out of consciousness for), and then fell asleep.