Today I was trying to get a good look at my feet beneath the casts, to see just how horribly scaly they are.
I was pulling at the edges of the bandages to try and peek under the cast, which, by the way, is pretty impossible even for someone as flexible as me, when I made a discovery.
Footfetti.
Yes, I've made that up. But let's say I've coined it, like Shakespeare, because isn't it a great word? It totally describes what happened: a load of flakes of dead skin from my feet came floating out of the cast as a released the bandage edge, like confetti at a zombie wedding.
Almost beautiful. And yet, not.
I nearly took a picture but figured peole might read this while eating lunch. Imagine instead a pile of very large flakes of dandruff. That's pretty much it.
Oh yeah, I am SO looking forward to the state of my feet on Tuesday.
Two sleeps to go!
Showing posts with label countdown. Show all posts
Showing posts with label countdown. Show all posts
Sunday, 20 January 2013
Monday, 14 January 2013
Another day, another pair of shoes (with pictures)
With just a week to go before I get my casts off (eight more sleeps!) I thought I'd share with you the extremely unattractive velcro shoes I've been wearing since the operation, the really quite unattractive trainers I've had to buy to wear for the next however-many weeks, and the simply beautiful heels I hope one day to be able to wear.
First-up, the velcro beauties. I've had to wear these all the time since the operation. They have a hard solid sole that doesn't bend, to protect my joints as they heal.
They are black, fasten with velcro, only come in one orientation (there's no left and right, each shoe is exactly the same) and are frankly awful.
As you can see, they are particularly clunky and in my opinion they don't even fit! My toes hang over the end so they feel really vulnerable.
I cannot wait to be rid of these.
Originally I planned to spray paint them a metallic blue and then paint the soles red as a cheeky nod to Louboutin. But the spraying needed to be done outside, so I had to ask the hubby to do it...nuff said.
Anyway, as of next Tuesday I'll be able to wear trainers.
Many of you might be thinking "that's great". That would be people who like trainers. I hate them.
I am still seething at having had to spend my money on a pair of trainers, and although I tried to find the most attractive pair I could (attractive trainers, surely an oxymoron) I'm not happy. It's partly because, obviously, I can't try them on.
This is them.
I think they are maybe just about bearable.
Let's have a closer look at the metallic details.
I am a little concerned that they are too narrow in the forefoot, but luckily I bought them from Schuh who have a 365-day returns policy! As long as they are in saleable condition, I have a whole year to send them back. So when I go to the hospital next week I'll also take some other trainery things and the surgeon can choose what he thinks is best.
Worst case scenario: he says no to all of them.
Then I'll just wear the velcro beauties home and get ordering more from Schuh! At least I'll be able to try them on by then.
And lastly, here are the aspirational shoes for the future, my £16 Next bargain beauties.
Aren't they lovely?
Let's just have a close-up of those adorable sequins.
I'm looking forward to wearing them - maybe for Regatta in July. Well, it's good to have a goal.
First-up, the velcro beauties. I've had to wear these all the time since the operation. They have a hard solid sole that doesn't bend, to protect my joints as they heal.
They are black, fasten with velcro, only come in one orientation (there's no left and right, each shoe is exactly the same) and are frankly awful.
As you can see, they are particularly clunky and in my opinion they don't even fit! My toes hang over the end so they feel really vulnerable.
I cannot wait to be rid of these.
Originally I planned to spray paint them a metallic blue and then paint the soles red as a cheeky nod to Louboutin. But the spraying needed to be done outside, so I had to ask the hubby to do it...nuff said.
Anyway, as of next Tuesday I'll be able to wear trainers.
Many of you might be thinking "that's great". That would be people who like trainers. I hate them.
I am still seething at having had to spend my money on a pair of trainers, and although I tried to find the most attractive pair I could (attractive trainers, surely an oxymoron) I'm not happy. It's partly because, obviously, I can't try them on.
This is them.
I think they are maybe just about bearable.
Let's have a closer look at the metallic details.
I am a little concerned that they are too narrow in the forefoot, but luckily I bought them from Schuh who have a 365-day returns policy! As long as they are in saleable condition, I have a whole year to send them back. So when I go to the hospital next week I'll also take some other trainery things and the surgeon can choose what he thinks is best.
Worst case scenario: he says no to all of them.
Then I'll just wear the velcro beauties home and get ordering more from Schuh! At least I'll be able to try them on by then.
And lastly, here are the aspirational shoes for the future, my £16 Next bargain beauties.
Aren't they lovely?
Let's just have a close-up of those adorable sequins.
I'm looking forward to wearing them - maybe for Regatta in July. Well, it's good to have a goal.
Wednesday, 9 January 2013
Day 37 - progress, pain and a move
Over the last week or so, I have noticed some definite improvements in my feet, and some small leaps forward in my recovery.
The biggest thing is: I have moved base camp downstairs.
This is a huge step forward. Instead of spending most of the day sitting in bed, and napping occasionally, I have now set up my camp on the sofa.
In addition, I can do a little bit of housework (I'm sure that must be a positive thing, honest) and get myself food/drinks as long as I don't overdo it.
This morning the Little Lady went back to preschool, so I tried to clear up a bit of the mess around the house.
I sat on my bottom on the floor to tidy up her toys, and then did a little bit in the kitchen, putting a wash on and loading the dishwasher (because the hubby thinks putting stuff in there is optional - he seems to like to 'decorate' the worksurfaces with dirty plates).
After 45 minutes my feet were really objecting, and now I can feel they have swollen up, but if I can do half-hour bursts one or two times a day then at least I can start getting back to normal.
In terms of pain, it seems to be changing as time goes on. A week ago my main issue was scratchy, itchy pain at my incision sites, which was worrying me because a big post-op fear for me is that I will scar badly.
But now, the pain has changed. I do still get scratchiness where my incisions are, but all last night the worst pain was deep inside my left foot, a cross between the pain of a bruise, and the agony of when you whack your foot hard against something.
Every time I rolled over in bed it throbbed agonisingly, and my feet also seemed to heat up inside the bandages - they were so hot it was uncomfortable.
It makes a change, though. In the last week I have noticed that often, my feet feel like they are icy cold. You know how they feel when you are totally freezing and they have lost almost all sensation?
Well, I get that feeling a lot but when I actually touch my toes they are warm. Weird, huh?
It's quite disconcerting and can be almost painful, but it must just be part of the complex healing process.
I must admit, I'm quite excited about getting the casts off and seeing what's going on under there.
CASTS-OFF COUNTDOWN: 13 sleeps!
The biggest thing is: I have moved base camp downstairs.
This is a huge step forward. Instead of spending most of the day sitting in bed, and napping occasionally, I have now set up my camp on the sofa.
In addition, I can do a little bit of housework (I'm sure that must be a positive thing, honest) and get myself food/drinks as long as I don't overdo it.
This morning the Little Lady went back to preschool, so I tried to clear up a bit of the mess around the house.
I sat on my bottom on the floor to tidy up her toys, and then did a little bit in the kitchen, putting a wash on and loading the dishwasher (because the hubby thinks putting stuff in there is optional - he seems to like to 'decorate' the worksurfaces with dirty plates).
After 45 minutes my feet were really objecting, and now I can feel they have swollen up, but if I can do half-hour bursts one or two times a day then at least I can start getting back to normal.
In terms of pain, it seems to be changing as time goes on. A week ago my main issue was scratchy, itchy pain at my incision sites, which was worrying me because a big post-op fear for me is that I will scar badly.
But now, the pain has changed. I do still get scratchiness where my incisions are, but all last night the worst pain was deep inside my left foot, a cross between the pain of a bruise, and the agony of when you whack your foot hard against something.
Every time I rolled over in bed it throbbed agonisingly, and my feet also seemed to heat up inside the bandages - they were so hot it was uncomfortable.
It makes a change, though. In the last week I have noticed that often, my feet feel like they are icy cold. You know how they feel when you are totally freezing and they have lost almost all sensation?
Well, I get that feeling a lot but when I actually touch my toes they are warm. Weird, huh?
It's quite disconcerting and can be almost painful, but it must just be part of the complex healing process.
I must admit, I'm quite excited about getting the casts off and seeing what's going on under there.
CASTS-OFF COUNTDOWN: 13 sleeps!
Sunday, 18 November 2012
Pre-op down, two weeks to go!
This is the first chance I've had to update since I had my pre-op assessment on Friday. Sadly, since it was the NHS, I didn't get to ask my questions as it was clear that the person I was seeing had absolutely no knowledge of my procedure at all.
The assessment block at the Royal Berkshire Hospital (RBH) is actually a Portacabin in one of its car parks. So far so very NHS. To be fair, once the staff had stopped arranging their Christmas night out and actually paid me some attention, I did only have to wait 20 minutes to be seen, which is surely some kind of NHS record.
And the people I saw were very nice. And obtained the information from me that THEY need. It's just that I didn't get the information that I need. Which was more than disappointing.
I did manage to get a leaflet out of them once I'd a) asked for one and b) insisted that they really ought to find one as telling me 'we don't have one, sorry' wasn't cutting it.
But I have learned far more on the internet than I did from the hospital and that's a poor state of affairs.
I was hoping to get a lot more detail about my expected recovery and to discuss the anticoagulants I will need post-op because of my Factor V Leiden inherited clotting disorder.
But the nurse simply assured me that I will be walking within days (er, really? Not according to the many blogs I've read from people who have actually had this done. Not to mention that for nearly two weeks I'm supposed to keep both feet elevated above my pelvis level for 90 per cent of the time. If you know a way of walking around like that, let me know.) And assured me that, I quote, "If you need drugs then they will give them to you."
Yes, I would hope that would be the case, but actually, I KNOW I will need them, my consultant at St Mary's tells me so, my common sense tells me so, and so, ya know, I'd really like to discuss them with someone BEFORE the day of surgery. Not least because as a breastfeeding mama I need to make sure anything I take is not going to adversely affect the Little Lady. Although a quick look at the excellent resource that is the Breastfeeding Network tells me it should be OK. See here.
Sigh. It's obvious the nurse had NO knowledge of a bilateral scarf osteotomy which is really annoying although not surprising, sadly.
So now I'll have to try and contact my surgeon and get a chat with him before the operation, which I can't imagine is going to be easy.
But I don't want to leave these conversations until the day itself, especially if I need heparin afterwards and will have to inject myself as I will need to learn how to do that when I am not groggy from anaesthetic and in pain from major surgery!
I do sometimes wonder when the NHS is going to finally implode from its arrogance and incompetence combined, but I guess there are just enough decent staff to keep its head above water at the moment. Let's hope I encounter lots of them over the next few weeks.
The assessment block at the Royal Berkshire Hospital (RBH) is actually a Portacabin in one of its car parks. So far so very NHS. To be fair, once the staff had stopped arranging their Christmas night out and actually paid me some attention, I did only have to wait 20 minutes to be seen, which is surely some kind of NHS record.
And the people I saw were very nice. And obtained the information from me that THEY need. It's just that I didn't get the information that I need. Which was more than disappointing.
I did manage to get a leaflet out of them once I'd a) asked for one and b) insisted that they really ought to find one as telling me 'we don't have one, sorry' wasn't cutting it.
But I have learned far more on the internet than I did from the hospital and that's a poor state of affairs.
I was hoping to get a lot more detail about my expected recovery and to discuss the anticoagulants I will need post-op because of my Factor V Leiden inherited clotting disorder.
But the nurse simply assured me that I will be walking within days (er, really? Not according to the many blogs I've read from people who have actually had this done. Not to mention that for nearly two weeks I'm supposed to keep both feet elevated above my pelvis level for 90 per cent of the time. If you know a way of walking around like that, let me know.) And assured me that, I quote, "If you need drugs then they will give them to you."
Yes, I would hope that would be the case, but actually, I KNOW I will need them, my consultant at St Mary's tells me so, my common sense tells me so, and so, ya know, I'd really like to discuss them with someone BEFORE the day of surgery. Not least because as a breastfeeding mama I need to make sure anything I take is not going to adversely affect the Little Lady. Although a quick look at the excellent resource that is the Breastfeeding Network tells me it should be OK. See here.
Sigh. It's obvious the nurse had NO knowledge of a bilateral scarf osteotomy which is really annoying although not surprising, sadly.
So now I'll have to try and contact my surgeon and get a chat with him before the operation, which I can't imagine is going to be easy.
But I don't want to leave these conversations until the day itself, especially if I need heparin afterwards and will have to inject myself as I will need to learn how to do that when I am not groggy from anaesthetic and in pain from major surgery!
I do sometimes wonder when the NHS is going to finally implode from its arrogance and incompetence combined, but I guess there are just enough decent staff to keep its head above water at the moment. Let's hope I encounter lots of them over the next few weeks.
Tuesday, 6 November 2012
Two weeks in bed? aka preparations for being bedridden
As the weeks march by (less than four to go!) I've been thinking more about what to do with myself when I'm stuck in bed.
I've no doubt that much of my time will be spent saying, "No! Don't jump on the bed! Get away from my feet!" to the Little Lady, who at three years old really cannot understand the concept of Mummy being ill for a day or so,let alone being bedridden for a fortnight.
But apart from that, which will be mucho fun, obvs, I was thinking about what I can do.
I'm really into sewing at the moment, using my machine, but I won't be able to use it while my feet are recovering (must get projects finished before then, must get projects finished before then, must get...) and I'm not a huge fan of hand sewing because it is so laborious.
So it's back to my knitting. I have an, ahem, Easter jumper that didn't quite get finished for Easter. The endless repeats of the lovely lace pattern killed my interest earlier in the year, but it is such a pretty top I think I'll knuckle down in bed and actually finish the darn thing. I've done all the hard part now anyway and it's just rounds and rounds of the body to do then sew up underarms and done! Maybe I should rename the Christmas jumper? Or even the bunions jumper? Hmmm.
There is also a WIP (work in progress) that will be a lovely cabled bag one day so I will have to have that on my bedside table too. I've no idea if I actually have enough yarn for that one as I was gifted a skein of bee-oo-tee-ful Rowan tweed which I don't think I can get another of.
But how fun will it be to get nearly finished and then run out? Oh too fun!
Lots of reading (any book suggestions gratefully received) is a shoo-in, plus time writing this blog, of course.
Maybe that will keep me busy enough? I am assuming that the pain and the meds won't conspire to make concentrating on things impossible, of course.
I guess if all else fails I could put my mind to creating some kind of preschooler-proof leg protector.
I've no doubt that much of my time will be spent saying, "No! Don't jump on the bed! Get away from my feet!" to the Little Lady, who at three years old really cannot understand the concept of Mummy being ill for a day or so,let alone being bedridden for a fortnight.
But apart from that, which will be mucho fun, obvs, I was thinking about what I can do.
I'm really into sewing at the moment, using my machine, but I won't be able to use it while my feet are recovering (must get projects finished before then, must get projects finished before then, must get...) and I'm not a huge fan of hand sewing because it is so laborious.
So it's back to my knitting. I have an, ahem, Easter jumper that didn't quite get finished for Easter. The endless repeats of the lovely lace pattern killed my interest earlier in the year, but it is such a pretty top I think I'll knuckle down in bed and actually finish the darn thing. I've done all the hard part now anyway and it's just rounds and rounds of the body to do then sew up underarms and done! Maybe I should rename the Christmas jumper? Or even the bunions jumper? Hmmm.
There is also a WIP (work in progress) that will be a lovely cabled bag one day so I will have to have that on my bedside table too. I've no idea if I actually have enough yarn for that one as I was gifted a skein of bee-oo-tee-ful Rowan tweed which I don't think I can get another of.
But how fun will it be to get nearly finished and then run out? Oh too fun!
Lots of reading (any book suggestions gratefully received) is a shoo-in, plus time writing this blog, of course.
Maybe that will keep me busy enough? I am assuming that the pain and the meds won't conspire to make concentrating on things impossible, of course.
I guess if all else fails I could put my mind to creating some kind of preschooler-proof leg protector.
Tuesday, 30 October 2012
Cancel Christmas, just give me new feet.
So. There's five weeks to go now. Somehow it feels both a long way way and scarily around the corner.
I'm trying to get my head round what I need to do before I have the surgery and I'm struggling to know if I've covered everything.
I have managed to arrange for my husband and my parents to look after me for the first four weeks. This period includes Christmas itself, and of course any looking after also has to mean looking after the Little Lady who at three is energetic and quite demanding!
I'm a little worried about her jumping all over my legs and feet while I'm recovering, especially when I'm bedridden. She usually manages to stand on my feet at least once a day as it is!
Apart from people to look after me, I know I ought to be sorting out some batch cooking and freezing meals but the freezer is a) not that big and b) full of stuff. I don't really fancy trying to organise myself enough to not only empty the freezer but also to refill it with meals, so I'll probably bury my head in the sand on that one. After all, Cook is just down the road!
Vain things have been crossing my mind. How will I do my hair? Who will shave my legs? But I think I'll have to cross those bridges when I get to them. As my hair usually has to be blow-dried and then straightened in order to look okay, tomorrow night I'm going to a friend's and she is going to chemically straighten my hair using stuff she's bought off t'internet. Sounds dodgy but she does it all the time and it's a fraction of the cost of having it done in a salon. Hopefully that will mean I can wash and leave my hair to dry naturally, so I can at least be clean.
Other than that, I've kinda cancelled Christmas. I won't be able to go to any parties or gatherings, and it looks like it will just be me, hubby and the Little Lady on the day itself so it's not worth a turkey. I wonder if OH will even bother with decorations? Maybe I'll glue some tinsel to my sexy velcro shoes for the occasion.
I'm trying to get my head round what I need to do before I have the surgery and I'm struggling to know if I've covered everything.
I have managed to arrange for my husband and my parents to look after me for the first four weeks. This period includes Christmas itself, and of course any looking after also has to mean looking after the Little Lady who at three is energetic and quite demanding!
I'm a little worried about her jumping all over my legs and feet while I'm recovering, especially when I'm bedridden. She usually manages to stand on my feet at least once a day as it is!
Apart from people to look after me, I know I ought to be sorting out some batch cooking and freezing meals but the freezer is a) not that big and b) full of stuff. I don't really fancy trying to organise myself enough to not only empty the freezer but also to refill it with meals, so I'll probably bury my head in the sand on that one. After all, Cook is just down the road!
Vain things have been crossing my mind. How will I do my hair? Who will shave my legs? But I think I'll have to cross those bridges when I get to them. As my hair usually has to be blow-dried and then straightened in order to look okay, tomorrow night I'm going to a friend's and she is going to chemically straighten my hair using stuff she's bought off t'internet. Sounds dodgy but she does it all the time and it's a fraction of the cost of having it done in a salon. Hopefully that will mean I can wash and leave my hair to dry naturally, so I can at least be clean.
Other than that, I've kinda cancelled Christmas. I won't be able to go to any parties or gatherings, and it looks like it will just be me, hubby and the Little Lady on the day itself so it's not worth a turkey. I wonder if OH will even bother with decorations? Maybe I'll glue some tinsel to my sexy velcro shoes for the occasion.
Sunday, 14 October 2012
Seven weeks to go
This week I had my operation date through, for December 3. That is just seven weeks away. I did know that I'd be given around six weeks' notice, but somehow it is only now that I have a real, tangible date that it feels an incredibly short time.
This afternoon I was reading some other blogs about people's bunion surgery. Most of them seem to peter out quite quickly; the most alarming was the one that stopped after four days, just after an entry about the author having passed out in the bathroom from the pain of having hobbled to the toilet. It didn't say if she'd managed to get to the toilet first, but let's hope for her dignity that she did!
I did find one on Tumblr that was comprehensive, and although they also had surgery on their little toes for something called tailor's bunions, the recovery period seemed to be incredibly long. Even a year after surgery she had pain. Gulp.
So I have seven weeks to adjust to the prospect of constant, debilitating pain for not just weeks but months and possibly longer than a year.
Seven weeks to get used to the idea that I won't be wearing heels for a very, very long time.
Seven weeks to prepare myself for being effectively disabled for months.
Seven weeks.
I guess I'll have to make the most of them by wearing every pair of heels I possess and going out dancing. It's a hard life.
This afternoon I was reading some other blogs about people's bunion surgery. Most of them seem to peter out quite quickly; the most alarming was the one that stopped after four days, just after an entry about the author having passed out in the bathroom from the pain of having hobbled to the toilet. It didn't say if she'd managed to get to the toilet first, but let's hope for her dignity that she did!
I did find one on Tumblr that was comprehensive, and although they also had surgery on their little toes for something called tailor's bunions, the recovery period seemed to be incredibly long. Even a year after surgery she had pain. Gulp.
So I have seven weeks to adjust to the prospect of constant, debilitating pain for not just weeks but months and possibly longer than a year.
Seven weeks to get used to the idea that I won't be wearing heels for a very, very long time.
Seven weeks to prepare myself for being effectively disabled for months.
Seven weeks.
I guess I'll have to make the most of them by wearing every pair of heels I possess and going out dancing. It's a hard life.
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