4am and I still haven’t slept. 3 weeks ago I had surgery, Achilles tendon repair, bone spur removal, bursa removal and a general clean up.
I’ve been in a back slab/half plaster from my toes to my knee ever since. I had a pretty awful fall in the hospital the morning after surgery. Still getting used to the cast and crutches I lost my balance and put all my weight into my freshly mangled foot. I can’t remember a time I’ve been in more pain than at that moment and for hours afterwards. This was the first of many falls I’ve had since this procedure. I think I’m up to 5 falls now. Luckily I haven’t really injured myself in any of them besides bruising.
I don’t feel my surgeon properly prepared me for the recovery from this surgery. All I was really told was no weight bearing on that side for 2 weeks. He never came to see me after surgery, never really gave me post op instructions and forgot to write the prescription for antibiotics on my chart so I was sent home with no antis. I asked before we left about them but it took them days to fax it to my chemist. So in those crucial first few days I had nothing. You might think yeah, big deal, but being a diabetic , along with my myriad of other issues, I’m extremely susceptible to infection. My post op visit wasn’t made for the usual 2 week mark, but the 3 week mark so I am still waiting to get my stitches removed and for further information, whether I go into a full plaster now or a moon boot, Tuesday will tell.
I feel so overwhelmingly disheartened , I feel like I can’t even trust my body to get out of my wheelchair without falling or stumbling. I’m 26, I’m too young to not be able to trust my own feet. Doorways make me incredibly anxious and anyone standing around to help just adds to my nerves and anxiety so of course I snap. It’s hard to accurately describe not trusting your own body to carry you upright , I can’t even properly put it into words besides I hate it. I hate that when I see my cousins or nephew they want me to play and go inside, outside, inside again, and I just can’t. My 2 yr old nephew even grabs my wheelchair and says chookey in chair, outside. As adorable as it is, it kinda breaks my heart because I’ve always been the get on the floor and play type of aunty. I know it’s not forever, and they just have to accept it, but they’re kids, they shouldn’t have to. It’s hard when you’re in the middle of it to see it will help in the long run, and being told just that doesn’t help either. I am well and truly feeling sore and sorry for myself. I struggle to get to the kitchen and back to my room with a drink, and by the time I do get back, it’s a big sigh of oh finally, have to take a breather and then manouvre myself into my bed. Everything is 10 times harder and more tiring, and considering I already have chronic fatigue, that’s saying a lot.
Just getting into the toilet is working my way around the corner of the hallway, parking and locking the wheelchair at the door, lifting myself out of the chair, spinning around and taking 2 big hops backwards so I can then close the door so I can then hang onto the doorknob for dear life to lower myself. Shower is much the same, adding in a lovely purple garbage bag over my leg. You don’t appreciate what you can do until it’s impaired somehow or taken away. My right leg and my shoulders hate me at this point, as they’re working overtime. Going anywhere , you get stared at and looks of sympathy, making you just want to melt away and be normal again. I hate everything about it, my foot and leg is either freezing or hot, and before people get worried, I’ve had it checked, it’s not infected. It weighs a tonne, feel like I need a crane to lift it sometimes. If I sleep on my right side, I have to tuck my right foot under my left knee because otherwise it’s on an uncomfortable angle. If I sleep on my left side, I can’t have the right leg resting on the left because the hard edge of the plaster digs into my leg. Sleep on my back and the doona on top of my foot hurts. On my stomach isn’t too bad, but again have to tuck my other foot underneath to get it comfortable. Nightmare! It just seems to be a never ending, unwinnable battle for comfort. To make things worse, the past few nights I’ve started getting restless legs again, normally I’d just get up and pace for awhile. Obviously I can’t do that so I am at a bit of a loss as to what to do. I got up and into my chair and rolled back and forth using my good leg for a good 20 minutes, back to bed and it was back again within 15 minutes. So it’s approaching 5 am and I still haven’t slept a wink. I’m pretty used to crappy sleep, but usually I can get a few minutes here and there.
And my diabetes is crap at the moment, I’m trying but I’m just losing momentum I’m doing probably 4 or 5 readings a day which is on the lower side for me. They are almost always in the teens, feels like a never ending battle to try and get them down, one day it will come down, the next it won’t budge or it’ll even go up. I’m so exhausted by it, I have my endo appt next week and I know he won’t be a fan of my hba1c. It’ll probably be mid 8’s I know to some that’s nothing but we’re all different , and to me that’s far too high and when I’m told that inevitably high number I’ll be disappointed in myself. It’s not that I’m not putting effort in, it’s just that so many other aspects of my health are screaming for attention that the diabetes is on the back foot. I know it’s not great, and I will get back on track, but for the time being, I’m doing the best I can.
I really hate losing my independence and just basically being an invalid, I hate having to ask for or receive help with things I could easily do myself a month ago .
I think that’s about it . Enough whinging from me 😉☺