I'm heading off to emergency this morning with my husband. It's been six days since the surgery and, while I've never personally been in a cast before, I'm pretty sure that the pain shouldn't be getting worse. My poor ankles feel like they are being crushed in a vice of concrete blocks. As my husband pointed out, the surgery was the bottom of my foot - not the ankles! It's getting so I don't want to get up to go to the bathroom because the pain of blood rushing to my foot makes me either want to puke or pass out. Neither option really appeals. Hmm...I wonder how good and effective those adult diapers really are? Nah, couldn't do that.
But onto a happier report, it's been almost a week and I don't really need the pain meds anymore. The foot itself is feeling much better.
It's early here. My husband is getting our son up and ready for school. I'm pretty warm right now and could use some fresh air, so I'm going to scoot up the bed so I can reach the window and open it a bit. I will have air and be able to listen to the river while the world around me starts its day.
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