Monday, November 16, 2009


I’m having foot surgery in three days. Well, actually, two days, twenty some hours, by the time you read this. I’ve put it off for two years for various reasons; such as, I can bear the stigma of deformity; I don’t have an 8 week window where I can be immobile; I’m a big chicken. During that period, I’ve endured blisters on all the toes of my right foot, straps cutting into my expanding metatarsal until my foot bleeds, and the lack of ability to wear my nice shoes, all from a condition I seemed to have inherited from my mom, grandma, and probably her grandma, too. Because there’s really no other reason for it.

I don’t wear high heels. Never did, except for special occasions. I go shoeless around the house. I exercise in good walking shoes. I’m not overweight. I don’t drive for hours at a time. That leaves heredity, according to my foot doc. Personally, I think I inherited a certain spinal structure that, because of a slight curve, causes one foot to splay to maintain balance. Being the foot expert that I am. (Cough)

So for four weeks, I’ll be on crutches, and then another four in a boot, unable to put any pressure on my foot. Naturally, it’s my right foot, so that eliminates driving. My husband is overjoyed about that, as you can imagine, but stands ready to do my bidding. My doctor says I will learn what it means to be handicapped, which is probably a good thing.

So now I have my crutches and a rolling walker rented, along with meals frozen and ready to reheat. My family is prepared to bring dishes to Thanksgiving dinner, and my daughters are going to make mashed potatoes and gravy. I plan to sit on a stool and poke people with the tip of my crutch. Just because I can.

What I’m a bit anxious about is the post-surgical pain. I’ve been told by people who’ve had the surgery – and who doesn’t love to scare the stuffing out of people with their stories – that the two days after are tests of pain endurance. I don’t handle meds with codeine well, so I’m sticking with Advil, ice, and acupuncture, and hope I make it without wanting to stick a needle in my eye.

So if you have any tips for me, or positive stories, I’d really appreciate them. I’m planning to check back in next Monday with an update. Keep your fingers crossed for me.

Kate, nervously signing off
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