Surgiversary

Today marks one month since my ankle surgery, so I figure it’s a good time to update my long-neglected blog. I’m doing pretty well — back to my normal routine (with the exception of ballet), and just trying to hide from the “What Not to Wear” camera crews that are inevitably lurking around my workplace. I’m still rocking the dress clothes/sneakers/ankle brace combination…or, as one colleague called it, “the Metro look.” I hope Stacy and Clinton, as New Yorkers, will understand.

So, where were we? From two to three weeks post-op, I saw a lot of improvement in my ankle. I was able to start exercising every day by riding the stationary bike, swimming, or doing the elliptical machine. At the three-week mark, I could point my bad foot about as far as I could before surgery — which, granted, is still not as good as my other foot, but a massive improvement over the previous couple weeks. I started doing some gentle barre work like my surgeon encouraged, but experienced pain and restricted motion, especially in demi plie.

This past week, I have to admit that I’ve been feeling a little low. Since I’m exercising every day, feeling fit and healthy and generally normal, I feel like I should be performing full-length ballets or banging out fouettes on pointe. But this isn’t the case — recovery is going to be a long journey, and I’m still early in the process. I know surgery isn’t a magical fix, especially since I had pain and range-of-motion problems for over a year, but I still feel a little nervous about being able to gain the strength and ROM I need to resume dancing. While I am seeing consistent improvements, right now I am nowhere near the plantar flexion I need to be able to dance on pointe.

I know I’m only four weeks out, and I’m lucky I can keep up my stamina and burn off some energy by doing daily cardio. (Plus, I’ve been trying to eat more protein because it helps with healing, so I’m feeling lean and mean!) But I miss dancing so much. Sure, it’s nice to come home from work, cook dinner, and relax…but really, I just want to change into a leotard and tights, swing my dance bag over my shoulder, and head right back out the door.

Earlier this week I was reading the new Pointe Magazine, which includes a column about the Lilac Fairy variation from Sleeping Beauty. On the very rare occasion that a lot of people are absent from pointe class, we get to learn a variation, and the last one I learned was Lilac Fairy. I hated all the piques on the right (bad) foot and wobbled all over the place, but nailed the diagonal — the huge sissonnes and double pirouettes. I was reading my magazine seriously aching to do those big, gorgeous jumps!

Hopefully that isn’t too far down the road. In two weeks, I head back to Indianapolis for my third post-op appointment. No offense to my surgeon, who in addition to being a rock star is a very nice guy, but I hope this will be the last time I need to see him! I’m actually excited for my physical therapy session (...is that weird?) because I will see a different PT, a former professional ballet dancer who specializes in dance medicine. I’m confident that she will be able to make great suggestions and give me a timetable for getting back into ballet. My studio is currently on a break between the summer intensive and fall classes, which resume August 11. I, for one, plan to be there!

Two Weeks Notice

Good news: I’ve been much more active this week and am getting back into my normal routine — work, exercising, spending time with my husband and friends. Bad news (for this blog, anyway): That means I’m not on the couch 24/7 with nothing to do. This is supposed to be my two weeks post-surgery update, so let’s just use our imaginations and pretend I posted this five days ago, mmkay?

After scaling back from two crutches to one, last Saturday (11 days after surgery) was the first day I did not touch a crutch or a pill at all, which was a wonderful feeling. On Monday, I headed to Indianapolis for my two-week follow-up appointment and a PT session. My incision is healing well, so I got my stitches out and got a pleasant surprise, too: They’re already weaning me out of my walking boot! The trade-off is a bulky, lace-up ankle brace that I wear from 8 a.m.-4 p.m., which results in some attractive work outfits like this: 

Yeah, you love it.

They warned me the brace probably wouldn’t fit in any shoe except a sneaker, and while I tried valiantly to wear it with ballet flats, it just wasn’t happening. Still, it beats clomping around in a boot all day. (I still have to wear it in the evenings for now.)

My surgeon, Dr. Porter, also cleared me to drive, swim, and increase my time on the stationary bike. My physical therapy exercises this week include heel raises on both feet in parallel, a stair stretch for my Achilles, and manually stretching my foot and ankle into a pointed position, all done three times a day. I can also try gentle plies and eleves in ballet positions facing the barre.

Up until my two-week appointment, I’ll admit I was babying my ankle, not sure how much movement or weight it could handle and afraid I would rip out the stitches. Now I know it’s OK to push myself within reason — it’s important to be aggressive in my stretching to make sure my range of motion returns. It’s still a little spooky to see how stiff my ankle is, but I gained 12 degrees of dorsiflexion (flexing) and 3 degrees of plantar flexion (pointing) between my one- and two-week appointments — and that was when I was wearing my boot all the time. Now that I’m in the ankle brace, which allows much more movement, this positive trend should only continue.

My next appointment isn’t until August, which is a welcome break in traveling since my surgeon’s office is several hours away! I'll continue to post updates on here as I see changes and improvements.

Super-Mom

As I settle back into my “normal” life (home with my husband and dog instead of my parents…and other dog), I wanted to post a quick shout-out to one wonderful lady: my mom! Her birthday is today, but she deserves a shout-out every day of the year.

Mama and me on the Fourth of July

I already knew my mom was awesome, of course, but this past week I learned that she is also an excellent and experienced post-surgery nurse! (My brother is a professional soccer player and went under the knife several times in college, so this is, oh, kid surgery #5 for her?) No matter how old you are, nobody takes care of you like your mom, and I can’t even express how grateful I am to her for keeping me company this past week — carrying my stuff while I butt-crawled up the stairs, keeping track of my ridiculous pill regimen, and just making sure I was as comfortable and relaxed as possible. Plus, she cooks like a boss. I once read that you shouldn’t restrict your calorie intake for a month after surgery because your body uses a lot of energy to heal itself. I don’t think that will be a problem for me…

Love you, Mama! Happy birthday!

Aaand a quick ankle update to round out this post: In just three days, I’ve already noticed improvements in my range of motion and my incision. (The large bruise by my arch is fading quickly.) When I walk I feel a sensation of stretching where my stitches are, which is a little creepy but normal, I’m told. I’m working on walking in just my boot and will hopefully be crutch-free in the next couple of days. My next appointment is Monday, so I’ll post another update then!

Hello, World

After my last bummer of a blog post, I’m happy to say I have been feeling much better the last few days. This weekend, I continued to dial back my medication dosages and get more confident walking on two feet while still using both crutches. I also rejoined the world by going outside on Saturday for the first time since surgery (in the morning, before the temps hit triple digits…) and going to the grocery store with my mom yesterday! Yes, this deserves an exclamation point. I know it’s ridiculous, but I couldn’t stop smiling the whole time. While it was nice to spend a few days napping, reading books, and watching movies at home, I much prefer being active and social, so it didn’t take long for me to become a little stir-crazy.

Today, six days post-op, was my first follow-up appointment and PT session in Indianapolis. I was equal parts horrified and intrigued to see what was underneath the bandages from surgery. Without further ado…ta-da!

Behold, Franken-Ankle!

While I was sitting in the exam room waiting for Dr. Porter, I got a bit sad and freaked out looking at my ankle — even though it was a mess inside before surgery, it’s hard to see one of my dancing feet so visibly mangled! All of the exam rooms at Methodist Sports Medicine are decorated with framed pictures and thank-you notes from patients, and looking at those strong, confident athletes, I feel so far from that point right now. However, I know that a huge part of recovery is mental: I need to tell myself to take things day by day, but remember why I’m going through this and imagine myself on those walls — not to mention back in the studio and on stage!

Dr. Porter told me that my bruising, swelling, and stiffness are normal and will continue to go down. He also asked, “How did you get so tough?” when I told him the pain hadn’t been too bad the first week. My reply: “Dancing on a torn tendon and a broken bone…”

Over the next 3-5 days, I’m supposed to wean myself off crutches, using just one first and then walking in my boot. My incision is now covered by two big Band-Aids, which I can remove to shower. (Yes, true confession, I haven’t showered in a week. Two words: doctor’s orders…and, baby wipes. At least my nurse mom helped me wash my hair in the kitchen sink!) I also was cleared to sleep without my boot, which will be a glorious break from wearing it 24/7 like I have since surgery.

Today’s PT session was pretty brief and mostly involved measuring the range of motion of both ankles, as well as learning a series of exercises to do on my own several times a day. The therapist also manually pointed and flexed my foot back and forth for a while. Needless to say, it’s quite stiff, so I asked the PT if I should be concerned. (Such a dancer question…) He said no and reminded me that I’m only six days post-op and have been in a boot the whole time…breathe, Kristen!

At my next appointment in Indy, a week from today, I’ll get my stitches out and build on the PT exercises I do at home. (At four weeks, once I'm ready to return to ballet, I’ll start seeing a dance specialist PT.) Assuming the incision continues to heal well, I should be able to start swimming for cardio and also should be driving by my next appointment. I’m looking forward to seeing more progress and, as always, grateful for those who are supporting and encouraging me on this journey!

Be Awesome Instead

I had a feeling the last few days were too good to be true. Minimal pain, no nausea, and a good night’s sleep the second night after surgery? Seriously? Well, at 2:30 a.m. today I woke up with a horrible stomachache and spent the next eight hours miserable and sick. There is nothing that feels more pathetic than being 26 years old, throwing up the entire contents of your stomach, and calling for your mom to come pick you up off the bathroom floor because you can’t stand up on your own.

I called the doctor’s office as soon as they opened, and they suggested stopping my prescription painkiller (it’s about time to phase that out, anyway) and seeing if Aleve and extra-strength Tylenol are enough to keep the pain in check. So far, so good. I slept for most of the day and have been trying to refuel on Gatorade and crackers — being so sick made me feel weak and exhausted. I butt-crawled up the stairs to get dressed around noon, and just doing that completely drained my energy.

I’ve actually slept a lot since surgery, period — the prescription pain pills made me tired, and I’ve been having a hard time staying awake through any of the books and movies I brought with me! I hope this means my body is dedicating all of its energy to healing. Plus, I find inspiration in the words of Barney Stinson a Greek philosopher, who once said, “Whenever I start feeling sick, I just stop being sick and be awesome instead.”

So, it's been a rough day, but I’m hanging in there! My surgeon called Wednesday afternoon to see how I’m doing and suggested that I try to put weight on my right foot (with crutches) starting Thursday. I was able to walk around for a little bit yesterday before heading back to the comfort of my cryocuff, AKA my new best friend. I’ve been keeping up with my exercises and cryocuff the best I can with my crazy sleep schedule, and hopefully by my one-week follow-up appointment on Monday I will be putting weight on my foot more or possibly using just one crutch. 

Until the next update, a few pictures:

What I wake up to! Fact: chocolate and peanut butter treats speed healing by 50%.

 

The sweetest get-well card from my favourite Brit, Kate!

My route to the couch, blocked by the alpha beagle. (This was taken yesterday...ain't no one going to see my sad self today!)

Here's My Ankle, So Cut Me Maybe?

I’m alive! At least that’s what I proclaimed as I left the operating room yesterday afternoon, according to the nurses, along with “Dr. Porter rocks!”

I’m back at my parents’ house (about an hour from Indianapolis) after my surgery, and am happy to say that I’m feeling better than I expected. My husband Eric and I drove up here Monday night so we could save ourselves a few hours of driving on the day of surgery. Determined to enjoy my last few hours of eating and drinking before the anesthesiologist-mandated cutoff, we went out for a delicious dinner at a local Italian restaurant. I chugged several glasses of water in an attempt to store up my reserves, camel-style, then came home for dessert: a chocolate peanut butter banana icebox pie (!) my mom had made from the latest issue of Southern Living.

OMG. All the things!

On Tuesday morning, I put on my Threadless “Swan Kick” T-shirt as a good luck charm (it shows a ballerina kicking a ninja through the air with her mighty arabesque), and we hit the road. I had to arrive at the surgery center at 10 a.m., and surgery was scheduled for noon. Once a nurse called me back, had me change into a hospital gown, and started a saline IV, my mom and Eric got to come back and sit with me. I had started to get nervous, not to mention thirsty!, and it helped a lot to have them there to distract me.

Dr. Porter came in around 11:15, explained once again what would happen in surgery, and wrote “YES” on my right foot. I asked if I could keep the bone, but that was a no since it’s live tissue, which isn’t allowed to go home with patients. Dr. Porter asked if he could say a prayer over my foot before we went into the operating room, which was so comforting and meant a lot to my family and me. He said we would get started a little early (a medical miracle!), then a nurse had me hand over my glasses to my mom and held my hand to walk me into the operating room. My vision is terrible, so all I could see was a big, bright room with five blurry people inside. All of the nurses were so sweet, and they had me lie down on a bean bag on the table, which helped keep me from moving around because I was lying on my side for the surgery. I was under a warm blanket and couldn’t help thinking the whole setup would have been cozy with a book and cup of tea…if the room weren’t freezing cold and scalpels weren’t involved. The anesthesiologist told me he was putting “I don’t care medicine” in my IV, and seconds later I was out.

The next thing I remember is Dr. Porter telling me he found and repaired a “good-sized tear” in my FHL tendon. The tear was about 2 inches long and the tendon was torn halfway through, thanks to the pesky os trigonum (which is NO MORE!) rubbing against it. The bone was “wiggly,” he said — fractured but still attached by some tissue. It blows my mind to know I had been walking and dancing on a torn tendon and a chunk of broken bone, but the new info also reassured me that surgery was absolutely the right choice.

I stayed in the recovery area for a little while and drank fruit punch Gatorade with ice…the most refreshing thing ever after 13 hours of nothing to drink! The nurse told me I came out of the OR chatting away (see the first paragraph in this post…) and that I asked to sit up and look at my foot in the boot. I have no recollection of this, but apparently it only took me a few minutes to wake up after surgery, so I think the anesthesiologist was right on the mark. I was amazed at how alert I felt, and I wasn’t nauseous at all. After changing back into my clothes, a nurse wheeled me out to the car, and we were on the road home by 2:00.

At home I went through the post-op packet, which included a get well card signed by Dr. Porter, the anesthesiologist, and all of the nurses (so sweet!), a crazy-long list of medications, and a picture of my snazzy new ankle, sans os trigonum!

I see why they told me I need to be out of work for a week: No joke, it’s surprisingly hard work lying around trying to heal. I have a set of simple physical therapy exercises (such as toe wiggling and leg lifts) to do every hour, and the cryo-cuff inside my boot is supposed to be drained and refilled with ice water every 20 minutes to minimize pain and swelling. I’m supposed to keep my leg elevated and not put it down for more than 10 minutes at a time, and I take various pills (painkillers, antibiotics, and anti-nausea meds) five times a day. It’s quite the elaborate routine but is the best excuse ever to hijack the living room TV and watch “Dance Moms” with no complaints, even from my husband and dad. 

Flowers and chocolates from my in-laws in Minnesota!

Hello from the recovery room!

I had a tough first night because it turns out that sleeping in a giant boot with your foot elevated is not the easiest task, especially once the nerve block from surgery starts to wear off and the pain sets in. Still, I managed to get a few hours of sleep, and am feeling OK now that I’ve had a couple rounds of painkillers this morning and am back in the cryo-cuff. Lots of couch time and relaxing ahead today! Thanks to everyone who has been checking in on me and sending prayers and positive thoughts!

T Minus 3 Days

So, this little surgery I’m having on Tuesday. It’s no big thing. No metal rods or artificial joints, no tube down my throat, no overnight hospital stay — just a quick surgery to pluck out a pesky, non-essential bone and clean up an angry tendon. I’m probably making too big a deal out of it. But considering it’s my first surgery (wisdom teeth don’t count; that’s just a rite of passage…) and will require significant changes to my lifestyle for at least a month, it’s a little nerve-wracking.

The surgery is supposed to take half an hour — incredible that they can fix the cause of nearly 2 years of pain in 30 minutes! Dr. Porter told me there is a 1-2% chance my ankle will be worse afterward, 12-15% chance of no change (still having pain and stiffness, but this time from scar tissue), and 82-85% chance of positive change. I'll do everything I can to be a rock-star patient and hopefully have a great outcome from the surgery.

I’ll be out of work for a week, on crutches for 1-2 weeks (no driving during that time), and wearing a boot until 4 weeks after surgery. At that point, if everything’s going well, I’ll switch out the boot for a sexy lace-up ankle brace for another month or two. I’ll see a physical therapist at Methodist Sports Medicine at every follow-up appointment, then have sets of exercises to do on my own at home. One of the best parts of this whole scenario: They’re assigning me to a PT who used to be a professional ballet dancer! It’s so reassuring to know I’ll be working with someone who gets both the physical and the psychological aspects of being a dancer and recovering from an injury (or, in my case, an instance of genetic freakishness).

If everything goes according to plan, I'll be able to head back to my favorite barre 4 weeks after surgery, then incrementally add center work, jumping, and pointe after that. My surgeon estimates it'll be 3-4 months before I can resume my full dance schedule.

Right now, I’m trying not to stress or think about it too much and just enjoy my last fully mobile weekend for a while! Thanks for all of the prayers, positive vibes, and support…they mean a lot as I'm heading into what I know will be a tough time. But in the immortal words of the Indigo Girls, "the prize is always worth the rocky ride."