Part Nine

 Thursday March 29  2:56 pm
 So, it's time for an update. Let's see, so on March 13th, I finally got the cast removed and now have been in the walking boot since. And let me say....that first shower without the cast.....maaan....I was in Heaven. Well.....a heaven for the temporarily disabled. But...nevertheless.....Heaven. And whew, boy did my foot look like it was found at some archaeological dig in the lost catacombs somewhere deep under the earth's surface. Ewww! It took a few washings to get my foot to look normal again. So, my foot may look fine now, but my calf is still suffering from a bit of atrophy. Basically, I'm now a proud owner of one skinny ass calf. Not too worried, after a while, this hairy feminine shaped leg from the knee down will eventually fill out.

not me (hahaha)

 Now, one silly accident did occur. Four days after getting my walking boot. On Saturday March 17th, while walking barefoot on crutches in my apt., I ended up stubbing my toe on my "good" foot. As a reaction, I fell forward and planted my "bad" foot ahead of me to stop my fall. All of my weight was put on the "bad" foot for only a split second, and folks.....let me tell you.....the pain that surged through my foot........wow! I actually felt like the mythological Achilles right after he got the arrow shot through his achilles. Paaaaiiinnnful!!! I toppled forward and collapsed, screaming mind you, and thankfully landed on the couch. I grabbed my foot immediately as if I was trying to choke my foot out. I was doing that deep breathing, half panting while teeth clenched, with my eyes closed tightly. Moaning, groaning, cussin', etc. I finally removed my hands from around my ankle area only to see that I was now bleeding from a scab around my stitched area. The blood thinners I've been taking apparently worked because the amount of blood that was coming from such a small area seemed......well....... ridiculous. Needless to say, I obviously stopped the bleeding, but I also feared the worse. That I might've re-ruptured my achilles. I was very disappointed in myself.
 (Just FYI: No re-rupture. I was fine a couple of days later)

 The following Saturday March 24th, I finally went "out" for the first time in a very, very long time. Went to a lounge/club for a friend's birthday party. I obviously sat a majority of the time (still with my crutches nearby) but still had such a good time. It was much needed to get out and finally socialize. Though, there was one time that made me feel really...kinda weird. Like I had a "disabled reality check". When I got up to use the restroom, the floor guy escorted me through the huge crowd. He used a mini flashlight to get people's attention (by using the light of course. Not knocking people over the head to get their attention) When people saw me they parted, like the way Moses parted Red Sea. I felt embarrassed. I did. I was saying "Thank you" and "Sorry" with a smile to everyone while crutching my way through. But yes...I felt like "that" guy. I quickly got over it though when I had to go later. I was like "This shit is awesome". People really made an attempt to get the hell out of the way. Even yelling at their own friends to move for me. Incredible! I felt like I had that pregnant lady respect (hahahaha)

definitely not me

  So now, today March 29th, I'm able to walk around in my boot without any crutches (tho' I take them around with me anyway) I actually drove my car from one spot to another spot in the garage. It's a public garage, so it's pretty large. I wanted to test my foot on the clutch while wearing my boot. I felt like a race car driver prepping for my laps around the track. A few shifts on the clutch was all I wanted to push myself to do. But....I did move my goddamn car! Woohoo! Small accomplishments. I'm suppose to start physical therapy around April 13th. So hopefully I'll be able to, by then, drive my own ass to my 1st session. So with all of that being said, I'm feeling great. My blood thinner levels are right where they should be. Still taking them tho'. But hey, if it's helping to prevent any more blood clots, then I ain't bitchin. For now.
 Take care everyone. I'm happy to know that there's people actually reading this blog. Means a lot to me. Thank you. And I will keep up the posts. Peace!

Part Eight

 Wednesday, Feb.29th (Leap Day) Later on that day......

Now, I'm sure most of you have experienced the reality show that takes place in the ER. It's ALWAYS a nightmare!! There's ALWAYS a long waiting period. There's ALWAYS at least one person looking really, and i mean really effed up. Like they need to be seen like STAT! And for some reason, there's ALWAYS someone moaning out loud. Basically...... this place sucks! No denying. As I continued waiting for my name to be called there was this guy sitting across from me, on the verge of passing out, who was either extremely drugged up or heavily inebriated. A hot mess, indeed. Over the loud speaker we hear "Jose (can't remember the last name called) They repeated the name a few times. The guy is out cold at this point. I take my crutch and tap the guy on his foot to wake him. I asked "Hey, are you Jose?" He wakens and looks at me and with a drunken slur in his voice says "Me? Jose? Nah......I'll tell you who I am" Then, in his semi-slumped position sings out loud "Joooossseeee, caaan youuuu seeeee, byyyy the dawn's earrrrly  liiiight, etc, etc" The dude used the name Jose to start off the Star Spangled Banner. And he was making an effort to do it in key. So, I did what any other normal person would've done....I laughed my ass off! By the way, turned out his name wasn't Jose after all.
 After a very,very long time of more waiting, my girlfriend decided to threaten them with a lawsuit if I wasn't seen within 20 minutes. Seventeen minutes later I hear over the loud speaker "Hakim Wilson". And off to a room I go. After the blood tests, they prescribed me with Coumadin. And also Lovenox for self injections. They told me to inject myself twice a day. One in the morning. One in the evening. Take the Coumadin once a day. The Coumadin takes several days to take effect in your blood, so the Lovenox injections are to thin the blood temporarily, but instantly. They didn't want to take any chances with waiting for the Coumadin to kick in days later. So, once being taught how to inject myself in the belly, I finally was able to leave. By the time i got back home, after picking up my prescriptions, it was about 8:00pm.
 My day, that I thought was only going to be 2 hrs or so,turned out to be almost a 9 hour day. Man, what a day! It was just crappy news after crappy news. But the one good thing I can take out of all of this is: Damn am I glad that I mentioned the soreness behind my knee!! Who knows what could've happened if I had never said anything?? Me barely bitchin' about that pain perhaps could've saved my life in the long run. I've since learned a bit more about blood clots and how serious they can be. And even sometimes fatal. So, now that I'm thinking about it, maybe it wasn't such a crappy day after all.

Part Seven

Wednesday, Feb.29th (Leap Day) 12:30pm

 I hated this day. It sucked! Boooooo Leap Day!! O.k., let me explain.
I left to visit the ortho center for my 2wk later recast. As I sat in the patient's room I wondered how exactly were they going to remove this fiberglass cast. Then, in came the guy with the machine. He wasted no time with getting right to my leg with his tool straight from the movie "Saw" or Hostel" or any movie that used power tools for torture. "Holy shit......is that what you're using to......", then came the whirring sound of the blade. Then seconds later......contact. To say 'my body was tense' is an understatement. I had actually positioned myself to kick the guy in the head, with my good leg, in case that blade decided to meet my skin. "How the hell do you know how deep to cut with that thing???", I asked. He explained that it doesn't cut through the cotton (which was layered under the cast). It can only cut but so far. But, damn dude....give me a head's up first or something. Damn!

 So once that was removed (the cast, not my leg of course) the surgeon returned. I decided to nonchalantly mention, to merely sorta mention this tiny annoyance I felt behind my knee for the last few evenings. "Well, just to make sure that it's not a blood clot, let's send you to get an ultrasound before we put a new cast on you". Personally I thought she was overreacting. "Are you kidding me???", I said. I was just assuming that I was sore from keeping my leg up while walking around on crutches all this time. She explained the possible severity of blood clots and thought that 'It's better to be safe than sorry'. 'Yeah,yeah,yeah', I thought. I know, doc. I get it.
 So,off i go to a place nearby to get my ultrasound. I wasn't happy. I thought this whole thing was a waste of time. After they scanned me, the radiologist shortly returned with the results. "So, Mr. Wilson, um...it looks like you have blood clots, in your leg, here, here, and here. We need to send you to the ER for blood test and to get prescriptions for blood thinners."
 "Whatchu talkin' about, Willis???" echoed in my head. But I ended up saying "WHAT?!? Are you serious??" I couldn't believe what she was telling me. Man, what a blow. That hit me like a bag of bricks across the head. "Fuuucccckk" i mumbled under my breath. Then i said it aloud. I was pissed. I was disappointed. And I felt like I was going backwards. I kept saying "dammit,dammit,dammit" all the way to my new destination. The goddamn emergency room.    

Part Six

Wednesday Feb.,15th

 Exactly 2 weeks later from the surgery, the almighty day of the visit to see my doctor was now here. Merely to see how the healing is coming along. To remove the stitches, to finally get out of the splint and into some sorta walking boot. Wooo-goddam-hooo!!! I was very excited. But then, my excitement was cut short when i found out that i wasn't getting a walking boot, but a fiberglass cast put on instead. Dammit! That sucked! The doctor explained that it was better to be safe than sorry. She stated that too many re-ruptures occur from going to the boot too soon. So why take the risk? I have to say, it made sense to me.
 When they removed the splint, I finally got to see my foot again. It's been so long. My dear foot. Great to see you again. Then I looked at my stitches, and I have to say "WHAT THE HELL, MAN???" All this advanced technology and we're still using strings to tie skin together??? It looked like a method practiced in the 18th century. It looked kinda....barbaric. I mean, why not just go to Staples and pick up some damn push-pins and duct tape? "Gawd!" But to my surprise, their reaction was "Ok, looks like things are coming along fine." I'm thinking 'yeah, I guess, if you wanna look like you have a small brown earthworm sitting above the heel'. Sheesh!

 Anywho's......after being told that my healing was coming along perfectly, they proceed to the next wrapping of my once often seen foot. The fiberglass cast. This particular method of fiberglass casting is done by using a sort of mesh tape gauze to wrap around my foot half way up my leg. First a very soft cotton like wrap was applied, then a thin sock material was put over that. Then i had the "luxury" to choose a color of the fiberglass wrap. Wow...Oh boy...lucky me. A nice addition to add to the disabled. A colored beacon wrapped around my leg to add to the.......oh....wait....wait a minute...."Hey, do you guys have dark blue?" They did. "Woohoo!!! Actually I was very happy. At least I can sport the same color as my favorite football team: The NY Giants. Ha ha.....yeah....Big Blue!!! Now all I have to do is get my friend to paint the Giants logo on my cast. Colored fiberglass casts....WHAT A FANTASTIC IDEA!!!! HA!!

Thank you Martha. It looks great.

 So, they wrapped my leg. Made it look nice. The wrap became hardened in just several minutes. Pretty cool. Since it was a new and different cast I ask "So, do i still have to worry about getting it wet?" They said "Yes...do not get it wet. It must remain dry at all times." I say "Ok...no problem. I'll keep doing what I've been doing." In about 30 minutes or so I'm finished with everything and walk to lobby. As i stand at the door, i look outside and begin to laugh. It's pouring raining.

This is not me (hahaha)

Part Five

Thursday, Feb 2nd - Wednesday, Feb. 15th

 During the 2 week span of expecting to do absolutely nothing, I really began to think about just what the hell am i gonna do with myself??? The day after the surgery I woke up with the feeling of a crappy sleep, a leg in pain (again), and an astound realization of "Holy shit.....my ass just had surgery yesterday!"  
 Each day passed by as if they were constipated. Which, coincidentally, is one of the side effects of those prescriptions.. But nevertheless....I tried to remain positive.  Another reality that smacked me in the face was that I've worked consistently for about 20 years straight. A Monday through Friday kinda lifestyle. For about 20 years. And now, all of the sudden, I "can't" work for about 4 months. And not just "can't" work, but hell, can't walk, drive, properly shower, carry my food on a plate with a beverage in one trip, etc, etc. So many things. But not working is HUGE!!! My pattern, my routine, my way of living has been completely severed.

  So, with that being said, I would have to assume (haha) that I'm probably not the easiest person to live with under these circumstances. It's weird when 2 people are home,all the time, that sooo many tiny microscopic things are now as large of a deal as the sinking of the Titanic. Every tiny thing that was never an issue, never something that bothered one before, is now highlighted with capital letters in the book titled: "Shit You Do That Pisses Me Off", or "Shit You Don't Do That Pisses Me Off". Every tiny thing is now 1000 times magnified. So, yup....good ol arguments,fussin, fighting, etc. A cell block mentality. Oh, wait.....did I forget to mention the fact that I live in a studio apartment too? Yup....Good times.

Part Four

 Wednesday Feb.1st 6:58am
I had just arrived at the Torrance Memorial Hospital. Oddly enough the plaque that was on the wall had my last name on it. It was titled: "The Wilson Floor". I thought, that has to be a good sign (no pun intended) Later, my name was called and i was asked to get undressed and put on a gown. That God awful, one-slip-of-a-knot-away-from-being-arrested-for-flashing people, kind of gown. As i laid on the gurney (i guess it's called) shortly afterwards, I reflected on the fact that I've never been hospitalized before. Never had surgery. No broken bones. Never needed stitches for anything. Nothing! And now....here I am. Just recently turned 40 on Dec.27th , and about to have my first surgical experience. And my first experience with anesthesia. Woopty fuckin doo!
 So, i meet the anesthetist. He had a good sense of humor. Which, for some reason, seemed..... "fitting". Anyway, he explained that I was going to have the general anesthesia (to knock me out) and the local anesthesia (to numb my lower leg). Next, they're rolling me into the operating room. Funny enough, the last thing i remember was me asking him "So, I'm not going to remember any of this, am I?"

 When I "awake", I'm in the recovery area, with a new splint and wrap around my leg, aaaannnd...... a new pair of tits  (hahaha, just kidding. Just making sure you're reading this all the way through) Any who, the whole experience seemed like it just flew by. I was like "That was it??? We're done already??? Wow...that wasn't bad at all"
 About an hour or so later, i grab my belongings, and my butt is heading home. All before noon. A piece of mofo' cake! The surgeon had already called in a prescription  for me to pick up later. Some good ol' Vicodin. But the way i was feeling at that moment, ......Ha....who the hell needs some Vicodin? Pfff...... puh-leeze. (I know what you're all already thinking) Later, as i am sitting at home, I'm thinking "Wow, ok, so now i just gotta heal. And rest. Tomorrow will be a new day and I'll recover one day at a time. No prob"
 THEN....7:00 pm came around. And apparently the anesthesia got bored and decided to break up the wonderful relationship it shared with my leg. OMG..........PICK UP THE PRESCRIPTION, PICK UP THE GODDAM PRESCRIPTION!!!!
  I was not expecting the pain to appear so quickly. It wasn't even gradual. I mean, shiiiiiit. It was like the anesthesia clocked out its time card at 7:00.  And pain clocked in at 7:01 for the night shift. And went straight to goddam work. I could've sworn the throbbing was audible. Like, I actually heard the throbbing. Daaamn....WHERE'S THAT DAMN VICODIN?
 Soooo, later on that evening, a visit to my local pharmacy was made. And comfort shortly ensued. Sort of. The throbbing was a little muted, but the discomfort of having this damn thing on my leg, while trying to sleep, was a huge pain in the ass. Good ol' Ambient.
 So, come to find out, the nerves in my lower leg area were awakened earlier that evening. But they were loud, aggressive, rude, and didn't give a shit about keeping the peace throughout my body.   
 I finally was able to get to sleep that night. I had to keep my leg elevated on a stack of pillows and sleep that way. A sleep that was littered with repeated painful awakenings throughout the evening and a huge amount of pillow realigning for my foot.

 Yaaayyyy....day 1 post-op.

Part Three

 Wednesday Jan. 25th. 10:00 am
The only reason I needed to see my primary physician was so that i can get a referral from him to see an orthopedic doctor. But he had to see me first to confirm what the hell had happened to me. And, of course, the orthopedic doctor had to be under my primary "group". Which is still.....20-30 miles away from my home (dammit)
  So, the great thing that happened that day was that my doctor got me an appointment at the ortho center. That very same day. And not too far away from where my doc's office was anyway. Woohoo!! These people were amazing. They helped me with getting my state disability papers in order. They re-did my splint from the ER's splint that was looking a tad like a Frankenstein wrapping. They were extremely helpful. I met my surgeon to-be. She saw my MRI and told me about the surgery that was to be conducted. Made me feel very comfortable. At that point, i was like "Let's do this!!" We set up an appointment for that following Wednesday, February 1st. Exactly 1 week later. But once again......23-30 miles away from home (dammit) Oh well.....gotta do what i gotta do.

Part Two

  Monday, Jan. 23rd. 7:00 am
"Baby, I think i need to go to the emergency room" were the first words I spoke that day. Shortly, after notifying my job about my ordeal, and that i couldn't come in, I was taken to a nearby hospital. After quite some time of waiting, i finally had an x-ray, and a MRI. All I kept thinking was that I had a high ankle sprain. A severe one, but still...a sprain. I mean...I drove home the night before for Christ's sake! How bad could it be???
 "You have a complete tear in your Achilles tendon" were the words the doctor was apparently saying to me. But, yup, i didn't believe him. He said it again but then added "You're most likely going to need to have surgery, Mr. Wilson. You do have a ruptured Achilles." And all of the sudden, I began to mentally question the intelligence of this asshole delivering me this shitty news.
 They gave me crutches and a "must-do" list. The next thing was getting in contact with my primary care physician. Who was at least 23-30 miles away from me. Close to my office, but far as hell from my home (dammit) And, plus i can't drive (dammit)
 When i got home, I hobbled my way to the couch and began to process the magnitude of what actually was happening. "Holy shit" is what I kept saying to myself. I called my office again and told them that this "thing"
 is a little more involved than i initially thought. They were incredibly supportive (and still are) and sympathetic. I then made an appointment for 2 days later.

Part One

  Sunday, Jan. 22, 2012

 The New York Giants just beat the San Francisco 49ers in the NFC Championship match up. I'm Ecstatic. I'm high-fiving friends, prancing around, all in all...I'm celebrating my ass off. About 45 minutes after the game, I go to the kitchen to grab a beer. In the background i hear one of those amazing highlights (that i just previously witnessed in real-time) playing on t.v. With over-the-top excitement, i decided to run from the kitchen to my friend's living room, to once again relive that jubilant moment, but this time, in a highlight format. I take about 6 steps or so and run through the doorway, then BOOM! I collapse. I could've sworn i hit my foot against the door jamb, or something. I tried to get up but it felt like my left foot was now in a 6" stiletto. I fell again. I had no sensation if my foot was planted or not. I quickly threw my shoe off and tried to stand up again. This time, i forced my heel to touch the floor. The floor felt wobbly and unstable. Like i was trying to walk on water and i can feel the waves under my foot. Moving. That's when i said "Shhhit!"

 During this whole fiasco, i wasn't quite feeling the pain that i normally hear that's associated with a ruptured Achilles. So, i assumed a high ankle sprain. "I'm good, it'll be OK" i kept saying. But, unfortunately, I still had to drive my car back home that night. My goddam car. My goddam car that has a clutch. Never before have I looked at my car with such hatred. I felt like i was the butt of my own joke. Nevertheless......I drove home. In agony.