Why Breaking My Foot Was One of the Best Things to Happen to Me: Part 1
By late 2016, I was in a bit of a rut socially. I had gotten sick of hanging out at bars. I’ve never been a “bar person” to begin with and usually would never set foot in one unless there was some sort of event going on there (usually karaoke night). I had even gotten tired of karaoke because my voice was pretty much shot from singing heavy metal songs (along with my trademark of singing non-metal songs in a metal voice).
I sorta just stopped hanging out with everyone in my social circle. I had been neglecting my fitness and wanted to start exercising again. That early winter, my wife started a new job working late grave shift and it was great for this because I was getting up at 2:00 AM when she went to work and I’d work out before I’d leave for work myself.
Just a week into my new fitness routine, it was three days before Christmas and I was going upstairs to get my jacket. Because it was the dead of night, I would escort my wife to her car.
Well, on the way up the stairs, my foot snagged on my pajamas and I fell. My right foot slammed with the full weight of my body into the stairs. It hurt so bad. I believe my words were, “F*ck! Ow! F*ck! Ow!”
Nonetheless, I only thought I sprained my foot and it still seemed like it worked. I went to work (which thankfully is a white collar sitting job) and limped my way through the day.
When I got home, my wife asked how I was doing and I took off my sock. My big toe had swollen almost to the size of a kielbasa sausage. It was time for professional help.
We went to the urgent care and the doctor ordered x-rays of my foot. The x-ray tech asked me what happened and I told him my story. After a silence when the tech took the x-rays, he exclaimed, “THAT SUCKS!”
Diagnostic professionals aren’t supposed to tell you what they saw, but the way he said it, that totally tipped his hand. I knew I broke something.
The doctor said I broke my big toe and gave me a copy of the x-ray. I unfortunately lost it along with the photos of my swollen toe after my phone SD card crashed, so I can’t post them. The urgent care doctor referred me to a podiatrist and sent me on my way with some Lortabs. After the first 24 hours, it stopped hurting so I only needed one of those painkillers.
The podiatrist scheduled me for surgery two days before New Years, the last procedure of the year. He showed me the side view of my foot and my great toe bone was shattered in pieces on top of one another like a Dagwood sandwich.
Going into surgery, I knew I’d be unable to walk and work out. Losing my mobility was very depressing to me, especially over the holidays.
Going into surgery, the outpatient center was behind schedule and started about two hours late. All the doctors involved introduced themselves to me before the surgery. I was especially nice to the anesthesiologist, “wishing us both good luck,” since I know what a balancing act the profession is. Too little and you wake up during the procedure. Too much and you go into a coma and/or die.
I was wheeled into the operating room and transferred to the operating table. After I was shot up with anesthesia, I was out in less than a minute. Waking up, wonderful things were going to happen to me, but that would have to wait for my next blog.