Unfortunately the problems with my foot were not solved by the recent steroid injection. The foot is kaput, and so I am scheduled to have surgery next Wednesday.
The surgeon is going to shave down the bony protuberance on the top of my foot, break the toe bone, remove a piece of it and re-attach it with a screw. Then she’s going to give me a lift home, as she lives just around the corner from us. That’s what I call service.
Apparently the procedure will transform me from freak to normal(ish). Her words.
I had my pre-surgical consultation last week.
Me: Is there anything you want me to ask the surgeon?
B: What is the risk of death.
Me: Whoa. Steady on soldier. This isn’t YOUR kind of surgery. I imagine there’s a risk of infection which if left unchecked could claim my foot, leg and eventually, life.
The surgeon advises me not to watch the procedure, as some people who think they will be ok are upset by it. I do not want to watch. I don’t consider it to be entertainment. I remember when I had a minor procedure on my ladybits years ago (sorry if TMI) and the doctor asked if I wanted the image from the internal camera projected onto the screen next to my head. “No! No! A thousand times no!” I believe I shouted.
I’ll be completely out of action for 3 weeks (unable to leave the flat). These weeks will no doubt coincide with the sunniest spring weather this country has ever seen.
I’ll be able to walk without crutches in 4-6 weeks. Luckily I have an understanding and flexible employer so I will be working from home for most of this time.
Lately I’ve been watching The Big Body Squad, it’s a guilty pleasure when B is at Tai Chi. I was horrified to hear that many people start their downhill slide into clinical obesity during a period of inactivity related to surgery or injury. I informed B that soon he’ll be attaching a hoist to the ceiling so he can wash the underside of me.