Whimper –range of motion exercises

One of the “joys” of getting a boot on is that I now get to take greater responsibility for my own recovery by doing range of motion exercises. Range of motion exercises in this case simply means I’ve gone back to school. Basically I trace the alphabet in block letters with my big toe with my foot hanging free over the edge of the bed. The key is to use your foot and not your leg or hip to do this. I’m supposed to do this exercise three times a day. What a lucky, lucky gal I am.

While THE FOOT was in the cast we had reached a détente. I’d keep it elevated and it wouldn’t hurt. Alas with the boot our truce has ended. The boot keeps my foot in a more correct position and the range of motion exercises, like any other exercise make it sore. What really angers THE FOOT though is wrestling the boot off and on. There is some major Velcro action going on there and I definitely feel like I’m wrestling with myself, foot held first down on the bed and then hanging in midair. After the wrestling match is over I definitely feel a margarita is in order. Alas no drinking with THE FOOT.

Oh and we engaged in a different type of exercise with THE FOOT as well last night. I got to take a ”bath”. I use the word in the loosest of terms. One of the things I was excited about with the boot is that I could take it off to wash. In this case washing means that I sit on a bath bench clinging for dear life while the spouse hoses me down with and adjustable showerhead. I really did feel remarkably like an elephant being hosed down in a zoo. The best part of the whole process was that I was able to loofah off some of the disgusting dry skin, the bad being that it took 15 minutes to get on and off the bench. I felt like I had run a marathon. Oh, and I’m so scared of THE FOOT not being supported that I left the boot on with a garbage bag tied on over it. This is not exactly a Project Runway look, trust me.

One last thing about the foot. I now know why so many people refer to their ankle as Franken ankle. Initially when the cast came off and the stitches were pulled I didn’t think it looked so bad. Sure I’ve got sutures running up and down both sides of the foot and the ankle itself still looks like a swollen death’s head mushroom but okay…Then this morning I took the sock off for a closer look. On the bottom of the foot I have the worst looking, huge purple bruise. I have no idea why this is what sent me over the edge but on went the sock and never shall I look again.