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So how did you break BOTH of your ankles?

I was asked this question repeatedly after I managed to fracture both of my ankles at the very end of April 2023. I decided to come up with a clever answer to diffuse the situation. My reply was, "I do my own stunts". this made everyone including myself laugh, and boy did I need this.

Hey, It's Janice Kay, it's mid-July 2023 and boy has a lot happened in the last months.

It all started with a potentially fun afternoon that I was going to spend with my grandson. In my haste to go see him, I slipped at the bottom of four steps, fell, and fractured both of my ankles. Yes, both of them!

Here is the blog post that tells all the fun details about how it was for me at first and how it is going now.

Since I don't have a photo of my eventful fall down the last of four stairs, I decided to recreate what it may have looked like.

Immediately after I was down, my first thought was, "I hope the neighbors didn't see me". Cray-cray right? I sat there for a few minutes, possibly 3-4, and waited to see if there was any bruising or swelling. Since there wasn't any noticeable damage after a whopping four minutes, I did what any other Grammy would do who was headed to babysit, I hobbled to my car and drove to my daughter's house. Since she lives about four minutes away, I felt this was quite doable. Well, it was until the accelerator started to get very difficult to push. I made it to her house, parked on the street, and then realized that I could hardly get up her tiny driveway curb. She spotted me from her backyard and asked me what happened. I told her that I fell. She said we better go to urgent care and I asked, "Do you really think we should"? YES!!!

So off we went to urgent care and by the time that we got there, I couldn't get out of the car without a wheelchair.

Six X-Rays later!

I asked the attending tech at urgent care to only come back with good news. Needless to say, he didn't! He let me know in the gentlest way possible, that I had basically broken (fractured), both of my ankles.

He proceeded to fit me with these ginormous black, velcro-enhanced splint/boots that were to become my BFFs for two months. He also fitted me with crutches, that I absolutely wasn't able to master with two non-weight-bearing boots. Fortunately, my grandson discovered that they made the perfect pretend rifle to shoot imaginary monsters, so they weren't a complete and total waste. I recently had to pay for them on my insurance deductible. (Don't get me started).

My sweet Frenchie son-in-law was observant enough to know I wouldn't be able to use the crutches and borrowed a travel wheelchair for me. Little did I know that sweet little wheelchair was the one thing that gave me true hope in the morning for my horrible predicament.

My darling daughter did not want me to stay alone and I did not want anyone to stay with me. I know that was a little crazy, but I truly value my aloneness and solitude. After promising her that I wouldn't leave my bed, ever, ever without my cell phone attached to me in a small cross-body bag, she decided I might, maybe be able to stay alone.

Important Reminder! Always keep up your pedicure!

So of all the times in my life and in this universe, my toes looked neglected, naked, and afraid. Everybody and their mother and brother had a good look at my feet. Fortunately, my friends couldn't see the unsightly state of my naked and unkempt toes because of my previously mentioned ginormous boots.

I must have seen 10 different medical providers and I had felt the need to apologize for my naked toenails. They really didn't care a hoot, but I sure did.

Just like our moms always told us to have clean underwear on in case of an accident. I am here to remind you to keep your toes looking good, I'm just sayin'.

That very first night home with my fractured ankles was tough. I had to try to sleep with both boots on and propped up, not an easy task by any means. I managed to sleep a wee bit. In the middle of the night, I woke up to fear, panic, and more fear of how I was going to manage my life with my not being able to walk. When I finally decided to get up in the morning, I spied my pretty borrowed wheelchair and managed to get myself into it and get to the bathroom. Next, I managed to get roll myself down my long hallway, doorway by doorway by furniture by counters to the kitchen. I made myself a cup of tea and decided that I could do this. That wheelchair meant the world to me, with its assistance and loyalty I was able to get around my home and take care of all my basic needs.

So, it looked like I was going to be wheelchair-bound for about 2 months. At first, I only left my house to go to Doctor appointments and Physical Therapy. My wheelchair enabled me to feel independent around my house. I eventually managed to whip around my place, do some laundry and vacuum a few times from my new bestie-friend-chair.

In case anyone is wondering how I went to the toilet, I will say that at first, that was the hardest thing for me to do. I had to wheel myself as close as I could get to it, arrange it in a way that would be easy to access, and then carefully, oh-so-carefully stand in my boot/splints without turning my feet. Sit down carefully, then do it in reverse. Let me just say, there were times, I was scared that I would fall down at the base of the toilet and have to call someone to come rescue me. As you recall, I always had to have my phone near me and I never, as in never neglected to have it with me anywhere in my home.

I was able to work part-time from home which really helped me to still feel like a part of life. After about 1 month I was able to hobble in my boots a bit better to a waiting car and go with friends or family to short events. I am so thankful for my daughter and those in my life who were so patient with coming to pick me up, putting my wheelchair in their vehicle, getting it back out, getting me in it, and so forth and so on. It has given me a new appreciation for being disabled and also for taking care of a disabled person.

Physical Therapy or PT for us in the know!

After about 1 month, I started Physical Therapy AKA: PT. At first, I thought it was a huge waste of my time. I was sick of going to medical appointments and this felt like one more added to my week. They wanted me to come in three times a week, but I wasn't having it, I agreed to do two times a week and do my exercises at home, which I mostly neglected.

As I got very close to the six-week since accident mark, they felt that I was ready to start some walking without the sometimes getting stinky boots. I was thrilled, to say the least, but mostly because I could start driving again. World here we come!

I guess in my little rattled seasoned brain, I thought that if my bones were healed or in a progressive healing state, I would simply start walking again. Heck no, that is not how it goes!

My first steps were very Frankenstein's monster. The only thing missing was me putting my arms straight out in front of me. I eventually did it as a friend recommended. I was actually shocked that (1), I walked so slow and rigidly and (2). I was scared to death that I would fall. My PT doctor worked with me on balance, coordination, strength, and so on. His suggestion of two walking sticks has really helped me. I bought two pink floral canes from Amazon and they make me smile every time I see them. They have given me more confidence in walking distances from my car to a store or building.

Before my accident and my fractured feet, I did not have any real appreciation for all the handicapped parking spaces. I always thought that they had way too many. I currently have a temporary handicapped parking pass that I really need, but have found, unfortunately, that there are rarely any available handicapped spaces for me to park in. So I usually have to park quite a distance from the store and use my canes to slowly hobble across the parking lot. I think my cute floral pink canes help people not to run this turtle over.

It's been about 10 weeks since I had my accident and I sure do look at life differently now. I have a true appreciation for the gift of mobility and appreciation for our body's healing ability and the gift of walking. I have more empathy for those with disabilities and the complications that ensue from them. I appreciate all the caregivers who give so much of themselves to help those that are immobile.

I still have quite a ways to go to complete my healing and walk with a more balanced and steady gait but in the meantime, I am thankful for where I am and where I am going.

Until next time,


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