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Giving the Boot the Boot: Unrealistic Expectations



No, I am not defrosting the edamame for a snack: I am icing my ankle with the frozen edamame, one on each side.  I do have a fancy icing machine that my dear friends, Brenda and Connie, loaned me, but I found it much too cold and bulky.  Here, all I need to do is take the bags from the freezer, wrap them around my ankle until they defrost, refreeze, and start again.  I thought it quite ingenious. While editing, I noticed that Zora is in the background chewing on the night boot I no longer need!  Both the night boot and the edamame will eventually go into the trash.  


But I am getting ahead of myself on this blog about transitioning back to a shoe.  At my post-op appointment with Dr. Nunley last Wednesday, he told me I could take off the boot the following week.  I don't know why I expected to be able to simply put on my shoe and take off!  That isn't exactly what happened.  When I tried to get my foot into the sneaker, I realized my right food was quite a bit larger than the left.  It was also quite painful to stuff the swollen foot into the sneaker, but I did.  Sneakers stretch, and the shoestrings allow for flexibility.  That is when I realized icing was in order.


I started with short periods of shoe time, extending the time each day.  In between walking with the sneakers, I ice the ankle, and, to my delight, the swelling continues to abate each day.  When I first made the transition out of the boot, I was feeling quite discouraged, so I sent an email to my two friends who have already been through this process -- Judy Young, who had her ankle replaced two years ago, and Heidi Watson, fellow tour guide, who went through this recovery last year and is back to tour guiding.  She is a braver soul than I am; I have retired from being a tour guide. Both confirmed the need to a slow transition and continued icing.  In fact, both of them said, even after one or two years, they still need to ice their ankles at times, especially after a long day on their feet.

Getting into a shoe also means that I can drive.  I have relied on my dear friends to chauffeur me, and driving would be a significant milestone in the recovery process.  Wednesday night I got into my car for the first time in two months, and when I drove to the end of my short street, it felt like I never stopped driving.  The ankle didn't hurt -- something it did before the surgery -- and I was comfortable, despite the lack of flexibility in the ankle.  Yesterday, I drove myself a full mile to the local auto repair shop to get my car inspected for the registration renewal.  I still depended on Val to drive me to lunch and shopping, but I am confident that I can now get back into the car and go.  I am glad however, that I have a handicapped parking sticker until August since walking still presents challenges.

Afraid that I wouldn't be able to walk too long in shoes, I brought along the boot to change into when we got to the mall.  However, after a brief walk to Apple and inside the mall to Chico's, I had to ask Valorie to bring around the car.  I couldn't take another step.  I think that will be it for the boot.  It's sneakers all the way now.


That brings me to my final unrealistic expectation.  I assumed that getting back into a shoe would allow me to wear the flattering dress I had bought for my daughter's wedding on June 17th, along with appropriate shoes.  That, I realized, is not going to happen.  My first solution was to wear a pants suit,  but I started to consider sneakers.  I have seen brides change into glammed-up Converses and thought I could go the same route.  Pink converses with teal ribbons and perhaps a few pieces of bling will allow me to make a statement and, most importantly, be comfortable for the day.  I found several examples online, especially on Etsy, but I decided the best way to go is to first find a pair of Converses that fit me, and add a teal ribbon to match the pink and teal-flowered dress.  Perhaps a pretty sock; I would like something to cover the still-red incision that goes up my ankle.  However, none of that is really important.  What is magical is walking my daughter down the aisle on her wedding day.

Update:  Here are the results:



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