Loveday Writing

THE LIMPY DIARIES

Surgery—minor or major can be scary. In my so far twenty-two years of life, I’ve only had one. But what I found scary was not the surgery itself, but what happened afterwards.

For two years I had been experiencing on-and-off pain, limited movement and swelling around my right ankle. I went to GPs and my podiatrist several times and they offered various temporary solutions such as ice packs, compression bandages and orthotic inserts made for my feet due to the fact that I was born without arches. However the key word is “temporary”, these solutions would work for a few months and then the problems would return.

At the end of last year, I finally decided to find out exactly what was going on. I had an X-Ray and an ultrasound in November. The X-Ray came up clean; however during my ultrasound I saw a circle on the screen. I am not a doctor or a medical professional of any kind, however I do know my body and I knew that wasn’t normal—it was a 3mm cyst in my anterior talofibular ligament which is a ligament in the ankle. It was because of the discovery of this cyst that my orthopaedic surgeon recommended I have an MRI, which then revealed the problems in full. The cyst was there, however it was not my biggest problem, my problem was a little bone called Os Trigonum, an accessory bone to the talus, at the back of the foot and is present in about 10 percent of “normal feet”. The bone doesn’t usually cause problems on its own; however this bone was scraping against the other bones in my foot and causing fluid to develop and swelling to occur. When my orthopaedic surgeon showed me this MRI, he recommended surgery, which I had on February 5^th.

My foot was in a cast for two weeks, I had never had a cast of any kind and for those two weeks after surgery, I couldn’t walk and had to learn how to use crutches. This immobility caused me to become dependent on my parents again, they of course helped me out, but I hated not being able to walk. My loving father, the silly man who loves to tease other people whenever he can, lovingly dubbed me “Limpy”.

When I did get the cast off, I had to learn to use my right foot and walk properly all over again, which was terrifying. I was constantly scared of falling down or tripping over and I was afraid of putting weight on my foot even though I was supposed to. What made matters worse was that I was due to begin my university studies and had to force myself to walk again in a matter of two weeks, which was painful but also necessary and ultimately successful.

Almost three months on, I’m walking again, although it’s not quite the same, I don’t think you ever are after surgery, especially with one less bone.