Sometimes you break yourself, part 8

I’m approaching the end of week seven post-fifth metatarsal break and the foot is healing, slowly but surely. My follow-up appointment was on Friday morning, just two days before the end of the seven-week mark.

Once again, I was not encouraged. But, the doctor kept asking how I was feeling, was I in any pain, and pressed on the site of the break and there was no pain. He explained that sometimes, how the X-Ray looks and how a patient presents clinically can be different. He still felt good that there was healing happening, there was not shifting or displacement of the bones, and I was cleared to transition into my sneaker.

It was an exciting progression that also made me anxious. The hard shoe was a staunch reminder to go slow and be careful. Since it had a rigid sole, I was unable to do any significant foot movement while walking, which was protecting the broken bone. It was also making me walk weirdly and unevenly, which was giving me all sorts of hip problems in the last couple of days. I laced up my long-lost sneaker, took a few careful steps, and the combination of better support around my foot, my hard orthotic insert which I wear all the time, and the flexibility in the forefoot helped me to take a few normal steps.

After the appointment, I went back to work wearing just the sneaker for the first time in seven weeks. I brought the hard shoe, just in case. I took the first long walk down the school hallways, which were very slow. I visited some colleagues who were all so happy for me, and all cautioned me to take it easy. They know who they are talking to.

After seven weeks of training my body in the art of heel hobbling, the transition to walking square and parallel is hard. When you’ve spent the better part of two months shifting, turning your leg out, compensating and hobbling on your heel, walking heel-to-toe with both sets of toes pointing forward is like relearning how to walk altogether. Your alignment is a mess, muscles you’d never regularly use to walk are now over-developed, and your regular range of motion is no longer accessible in certain places. It goes to show you just how much time and effort it takes to make real changes in your body. 

There is a real fear of messing something up, and the soft tissues in the ankle and top of the foot were also likely badly sprained in the accident, so they are still healing as well. I’ve heard that sprains take longer to heal than breaks. Sigh.

I’ve never been a huge lover of driving; it’s been the thing that gets me from one place to another. I don’t think I’ve ever gone this long without being behind the wheel and wow, did I miss it. When you injure your right foot, the benchmark for driving is to be able to quickly make an emergency stop. You must have complete control over the vehicle at all times. I was directed to practice in an empty parking lot to make sure I can do a hard brake. So the next day, my husband drove me to an empty parking lot where there was only one other car, a student driver, and we switched places. I’ll admit I was nervous; afraid that I’d forget how to drive, or lack the reaction time, or that there would be pain in the foot and I’d have to wait even longer for my freedom.

Fortunately, it was like getting on a bike, only less wobbly. Foot on gas and go, foot on brake and stop. It all came back to me. I did a few hard stops to make sure I wasn’t exacerbating the injury and it was all good.

There’s still a lot of swelling around my ankle throughout the day as I walk and use the foot, and I’ve read that this will continue for months. If it’s a sign that I need to slow down, I’ll take it as such. At least I’m one step closer to healing, and I have my freedom back. I am so thankful to all of my friends who gave me rides, offered me knee scooters, and helped cover me at work. I’m even more thankful to my husband, who has been so supportive (and non-judgmental) throughout the process. While it was a challenging start to our empty-nesting time of life, he really helped keep me from losing my mind and falling into a major depression.

On my first appointment, the doctor told me that this broken foot would eventually be a blip in my timeline. While you’re experiencing the lengthy and painful healing process, it doesn’t feel like a blip, rather a daily trudge up a tall mountain. But, now that I’m past the hurdle of walking boots and bumming rides, my life is slowly returning to what looks like more normal. It will be a few more months before I have full use of the foot, and I imagine the return to bouncing and flipping will be a longer wait than I want, I take solace in the small daily gains I’m making. I have no interest in creating a backslide, and there’s good fun in re-learning what I once took for granted.

And so, life moves on.