It’s now been nearly 16 weeks since I broke my ankle. I’m about to make a cross-country move and wanted to dump my memories here before they get distorted by the transition. Plus, plenty has happened in the 2 months since I last wrote about my experiences (you can read that blog post here).

It’s time for an update.

Continuing the Story...

The month after my last post was a challenging one. I was still sitting around a lot, which was starting to truly drive me crazy. The lack of body exertion was making it so hard to sleep at night. Restless. Tossing and turning. Add to that the nerve pain that made it so I couldn’t really turn my foot (and therefore demanded that I lay flat on my aching back all night). Nights were definitely the worst.

But then. I got permission from the surgeon on April 12th to be full weight bearing on my ankle. The new x-rays showed that I’d healed enough to start trying to walk. 

(Note here: taking those x-rays was a beast. They had me stand on a weird small unstable set of plastic stairs and I had to attempt to put weight on my injured foot for the first time. Of course the whole thing turned purple and just generally made me feel horrible. I was grateful to get off of the stupid thing and get my foot elevated again…)

Waiting in the doctor’s office at my 6 weeks post-op appointment; Updated 6-week x-rays; Attempting to walk with crutches around the yard.

I got home from the doctor’s office and immediately decided I wanted to try putting on real shoes instead of the silly airboot thing they’d had me wearing. That mostly made me feel depressed, as it hurt having the shoe on and I couldn’t do much else after it was on.

I first started walking circles through the lawn and around the house the next day. With lots of support from my crutches of course. It felt strange to put pressure on my foot, but also didn’t feel as bad as I expected. The blood rushing to my foot still wasn’t pleasant, but I found that the more I walked the less that it was the loudest feeling in my body. Walking sort of felt like scratching an itch. It didn’t feel good, but my foot was craving the pressure. (Weird and hard to describe.)

Mostly, this time period was frustrating. 

Luckily, I borrowed a stationary exercise bike and started riding every morning first thing for 30 minutes. That exhausted me and immediately I started sleeping better at night. Added it to my things to be grateful for.

Walking Finally… Sorta Kinda

It wasn’t until April 23rd that I was finally able to take my first unaided steps.

I was on a short (crutches-aided) walk with my partner and he encouraged me to try some shuffle-y steps without the crutches. Mostly just standing and then lifting up one foot and then the other, then shuffling forward very slowly. 

Suddenly, I realized I could do it. Of course, I couldn’t go very far. And I needed the crutches again to get back home. But I took a few steps on my own and that made me feel elated.

After that, I would try to take a few steps around the house and when I went out on crutches. I still needed the knee scooter because my foot would turn purple and hurt pretty quickly. But, let’s be honest, crutches really hurt after a while. That knee scooter was starting to hurt as well, as my knee muscles started to complain about being bent and leaned on so often.

I was super ready to be done with these aides and back to just walking.

Sloooooooow Progress

Slow walking on the Rail Trail bridge. So uncomfortable. And so exciting.

Walking again isn’t anything like I imagined it might be while I was stuck on the couch daydreaming about getting back to my long walks. You can’t just get permission from the doctor to walk again and then just walk away. 

Injuries are crazy things, as the body massively shifts to accommodate all kinds of processes that are needed for healing. Extra blood volume, inflammation (important for healing), and lots of fluid build-up from a lack of motion and then swelling from use. 

Getting back to walking has been excruciatingly slow. Every day I wonder if I’m getting better. Usually once or twice a week I panic, thinking it’s not getting better. Then at least once a week I get to experience joy with realizing that I’ve hit a new milestone. It’s just the crazy cycle of healing.

Lots of ice water baths help with swelling; Foam roller to help with calf acheyness; Loads of rest and foot elevation.

I’m not much of a crier in general, but I have definitely cried from nerve pain and utter frustration during this process. Luckily, the amount of crying has lessened significantly in the past few weeks. In fact, I don’t think I’ve cried in at least 2 weeks. Progress!

Progress means celebrating tiny wins. Like the moment I realized I could cover up my foot with the blanket again finally (no more horrible nerve feelings from the weight of the comforter). Or the first time I was able to sleep without a sock on (sock = cozy nerve blanket). Or the day that I didn’t need a hot bath first thing in the morning to help calm my foot nerves. 

It also means bigger wins. Like the first time I was able to stand unaided in the kitchen for 30 minutes straight first thing in the morning, cleaning and making food. Or realizing that it had been 2 weeks since I’d reached for my crutches or knee scooter.

Milestones: Walking for the first time in a little store without crutches; Getting out in the woods again, even with crutches = bliss; First hiking attempt without crutches to go gather fiddlehead ferns - success!

I also started walking on the treadmill at the physical therapy office as often as felt reasonable. At first it was INSANELY hard. I could only go 0.7 MPH for 7 minutes. But over the course of 3 weeks, I got up to 3.0 MPH for 40 minutes. WIN.

Healing Isn’t Linear

One thing I’ve had to learn to sit with during this part of the process is the cycles my body has to go through. If I push myself hard one day, I definitely have to take it easy the next day. And I’ve learned that if I take it easy an additional day after that I’ll heal even better. 

It feels like a dance of listening to my body. When I first started walking, it felt right to push harder. Now that my body has achieved a ton of healing, it feels better to let my body rest more. Of course, when I’m pushing hard these days I’m going pretty far (I’ve hit 10,000 steps on my step counter several times in the past couple of weeks). So it seems to even out overall.

Hardware Issues

Overlay of x-ray and foot. Darn screw is messing with my ankle rotation…

One thing that has been frustrating is the realization that the metal in my foot is preventing my full healing. I’ve been suspecting that to be true for weeks now, as my dorsiflexion and plantar flexion is severely limited. A week ago, however, the physical therapist finally also had that realization. 

He played with my ankle some more and concluded that the single screw located on the inner side of my ankle must be interfering with my joint movement. I’ve only got about +8% flexion, when I should have +12-15% for full range of movement. That means I can only move my ankle about half of what it needs to function correctly. (Those percentages are beyond a 90 degree measurement, FYI. So I can move my ankle to 98 degrees, when I should be able to move it to 102-105 degrees. At least this is how I understand it currently.)

 So I need to get it all removed as soon as possible to regain my ankle flexion once again. 

Since that flexion is necessary for things like going up and down hills, going up and down stairs, doing lunges and squats (my go-to workout moves), and basically anything where you bend your knees… I won’t get much better in that regard until I finally get the metal removed. I was hesitant before (ugh surgery again), but now I can’t wait.

Using hiking poles to get down a hill I wouldn’t be able to get down on my own.

I will say that it was frustrating to hear that, though, a week after meeting for the last time with the surgeon and him expressing his concern over my too-stiff ankle. He recommended that I do lots of achilles tendon stretches, as he attributed my stiffness to stiff tendons.

No one ever suggested that the screw might be a problem for me or that it could be causing my stiffness. Until my PT suddenly realized that it was the issue. I, of course, am grateful to know that it’s not because I was failing in my rehab in some way. But instead a mechanical issue way out of my range of control. Yet, I felt frustrated that I was told to “stretch” instead of being given a thorough assessment of the issue.

This has happened to me in the past with chronic shoulder issues and I am indeed learning to trust my own gut instead of always waiting for the experts to tell me what to think. I knew that something mechanical was in my way. But I just trusted that if it was, someone would say something. Alas, we must be our own advocates.

Still Healing and...Surgery Again

Thankfully, I am still healing around that damn screw. I can still walk better and better every day. My ankle is adjusting to flexing in other ways. I’ve discovered that I can use hiking poles to get up and down hills (awkwardly). I can get up and down stairs if I turn my foot sideways or hang onto the wall or railing. If I’m on flat ground, it’s all good.

My lower back takes the brunt of this awkward movement though, as my right hip has to pull higher to accommodate the lack of ankle flexion. I have to do lots of back exercises and take a lot of breaks to help it out. Not great!

Now that I’ve realized what’s up, I can see that my remaining nerve pain is originating right from that darn screw head. So I’m going to have to deal with this nerve pain until that screw is out and no longer rubbing inside my ankle. (That realization was a little depressing.)

I’ve found a surgeon in the state I’m moving (back) to and I can’t wait to connect to see if he would be a good fit for my hardware removal surgery. I’ve decided to do this surgery awake with an epidural. I’m NOT doing the nerve block in my leg ever again (I discovered at my last surgeon appointment that I likely have permanent nerve damage in my shin from the one they did for my previous surgery - epic crapshoot there). I likely won’t take narcotics yet again - not a fan. I seem to have a pretty high pain tolerance and I’m hoping that holds up for this final phase.

I know I’ll have to wait at least 2 more months before they’ll even consider taking the hardware out. Perhaps longer if my posterior bone breaks still aren’t 100% healed by then. I’m definitely trying to be patient. But damn. I’m so ready to be freeeee and healthy again!!

Progress: Out walking on my beloved Rail Trail in a rainstorm - dedication!; Hiked down a ravine with my hiking poles to soak my feet in the river; New barefoot sandals from Xero Shoes - going to work on my ankles, feet, and arches to help strengthen and prevent this from happening again…!!!

Final Thoughts On These 2 Months

This part of the journey has definitely been pretty intense. It started with the frustration of being stuck on the couch, restless and with a ton of nerve pain. It’s ending with me walking quite well (and farther and farther every day), but with remaining issues that need to be addressed soon. 

I’m frustrated that no one caught the hardware issue earlier. Or at least didn’t even consider it as a possibility. I spent weeks feeling like I was doing something wrong, and I didn’t need to go through that. 

I am far more motivated now to get that surgery done as quickly as possible. And I’m going to insist on having them remove every bit of metal, even if they don’t see some of it as necessary to remove. OUT I say! (I don’t think having foreign objects in our bodies is good for overall long term health - doable if the hardware must stay in certain injuries, but if it can come out I say get it out). 

Finding Myself in the Challenges

This has been an incredibly hard experience. I’m pretty proud of my ability to handle it. I’m also profoundly impressed by how our bodies just heal (given healing circumstances). It’s been truly inspiring to watch my body handle this whole process with finesse. I’m even more in love with our human bodies after going through this.

But I also know that these experiences are also just hard and we can let them be hard without needing to spin a story that gives us some kind of purpose with it. I don’t believe in cliche phrases like “everything happens for a reason” or “we only get what we can handle.” The fact is, these sorts of perspectives don’t help us to truly feel our feelings. They make us feel like we have to perform Good Patient, which is completely antithetical to true healing.

And we don’t heal from trauma if we don’t deeply dive into those feelings. Repressing feelings, labeling them “bad” or “good”, only causes them to become stuck in our bodies. Stuck energy in our bodies doesn’t allow us to fully heal. So, yes, I am a huge fan of just letting those feelings rip through us, unabashed and without apology.

It’s been hard for my family to care for me. To experience my bitchy snappiness. To get me things when I needed them RIGHT NOW. To watch me turn my face into the couch and bawl because I feel hopeless. To writhe in pain and sob when my massage therapist partner tried to gently rub my foot. To not get to depend on me for anything. To suddenly have Mom go missing (and instead have this vulnerable small woman to care for).

But it’s important (especially for us mothers and caregiving women) to just be in the experience and heal. To be bitchy. To cry. To try to be nicer, but also not apologize for our feelings. To just be present when we can, and tune out to a trashy TV show when we just can’t anymore. 

Healing isn’t linear. It’s messy. It hurts. It makes us feel hopeless one day and elated the next. But by being IN the whole process, we allow it to complete its journey. We tell our bodies “hey, I trust you to bring me through this.” We let go of control. We push ourselves through hard parts, then back off when our bodies say STOP. 

Healing is about reclaiming our birthright of TRUST of self, of body, of spirit. We don’t need to make up meanings more profound than that. There just isn’t anything more profound than self compassion and a deep love for one’s beautiful, intelligent, wise body.

Keep healing, friends. We’re here on this planet together and I’m honored you stopped by to read about my own journey. Sending you all the healing vibes and body-trusting thoughts. ❤️

I’ll be back with more healing in the future, as well as many of the blog posts I promised in the last update. I’m also planning on writing a timeline of my healing journey for anyone who loves to see concise healing processes. More soon-ish!

Now on to that packing and prepping for a big move…!

PS If you’re on Instagram, I’ve been posting a ton there in my stories. I’ve made a special highlight of my ankle recovery just for you ankle breakers. You can find my journey on there @rewild.mothers.