Brighter Days

Happy fall, everybody! After a gorgeous drive along Indiana highways (during which I took way too many cell-phone pictures of the trees), I was in Naptown earlier this week for physical therapy, so I thought I'd post an update.

I'm approaching four months post-op and am happy to say that I'm feeling much more positive about this whole situation than when I posted my vlog last month. (Thanks to everyone who hung in there for the whole 9+ minutes...sheesh, I talk a lot! I guess I finally got to fulfill my '90s teenage dream of spilling my guts in the Real World confessional booth...)

Anyway, I've been doing pretty well lately. I'm getting through technique class with very few modifications, if any, and am becoming a lot more consistent in terms of my pain levels and what I'm able to do without getting too sore or tired. I started petit allegro a couple weeks ago, which gave me floppy "fish foot" at first due to my ankle being weak, but it's shaping up -- good thing, because I love petit allegro. (Crazy, right?!) I also attempted grand allegro last night, with my PT's OK. I felt it afterward, but I was so happy to move like that for the first time in almost four months! I always have and probably always will love to jump. At least until I'm 85 or so.

OK, now the not-so-good news. I'm still not back en pointe due to pain and a jammed feeling in the back of my ankle, even though I'm only doing super-basic things for short periods of time. I had my pointe shoes on for part of my physical therapy appointment this week, and it was not pretty. I can't get all the way over on my foot that had surgery, and if I push harder to try and get over my box, it really hurts -- and that's coming from someone who feels like she's built up a pretty legit pain tolerance over the last couple years. My PT said I probably still have some swelling from surgery and that I likely will until six months out, which blows my mind. (Also, best quote of the day: "You have good feet...and one angry ankle!") So for now, I'm just keeping at it, hoping it will slowly start to feel better.

Due to all this, I decided to sit out Snow and Flowers for Nutcracker this year because there's just no way I'll be ready for all the pointe work. I'm a teeny bit sad because Snow rehearsals started this week and OMG the sparkly white tutus! (out comes my inner six-year-old), but I was pleasantly surprised to get cast in Spanish, with character shoes. I'm glad that my teachers found a way for me to still be involved, and mostly, I'm relieved that I don't have to slap a deadline on this whole healing process by rushing to get back en pointe.

This experience has been a huge lesson in patience and letting my body work things out on its own terms. (I also turned 27 last week, so maybe it's just old age bringing me new wisdom?) Either way, I've learned and grown so much along this journey, and it isn't over yet! I have another PT appointment in a month, so I'll update again then, if not sooner. Until then, thanks for reading! And, uh, enjoy this snapshot of my evening: how my Great Dane mix is currently snoozing as I write.

Decency, sir.

Blessed.

Three months ago, my foot looked like this:

Today, it looks like this:

"You know, there are creams you can put on that," my mom told me this summer. But for once, I'm OK with being imperfect — I don't want to hide my flaws or deny that they are part of who I am. For the rest of my life, I will dance with a skinny red scar that reminds me I am human...that sometimes I break and need to be stitched back together. The process isn't without pain, tears, and frustration. But it is teaching me so much about who I am and who I can become. You don't know how brave you can be until it's the only choice you have if you want to move forward.

Tonight, I'm giving thanks for new beginnings, everyday angels, broken roads that lead us exactly where we're meant to be, and a scar that will never let me forget.

Bad Lights. Bad Camera. Action?

Trying something new this time: a video blog update in which I tell tales of torture boots, fight a Pilates reformer (and lose), and try not to get too teary-eyed while talking into a camera. Without further ado...

Back in Black (And Pink)

Once again, I've let this blog languish, but rest assured that no news is good news. I'm 11 weeks out from surgery and have been back to ballet for three weeks. My heart is happy, and I'm finally starting to feel like a dancer again! My first class back, I was the happiest girl ever -- I grinned like a goon all the way through barre. Although the back of my ankle is still stiff and sore when I point my foot, it is nothing compared to the searing pain I had before surgery, and I'm feeling less pain and more confidence every time I take class. At this point, I'm doing a full barre with some modifications. (For those who are interested and appreciate ballet jargon, this means no striking on frappes, holding balances on flat instead of releve, and doing some combinations at half tempo -- such as tendus and degages -- because pointing my foot too fast makes my ankle sore and tired.) I can usually get through the first two or three combinations in center, and while I'm not jumping or doing pointe work yet, I can feel myself getting stronger and hope I will be there soon.

I'm also happy to report that my last physical therapy appointment brought much more positive news than the one before it! In three weeks, I gained 15 degrees of plantar flexion (pointing), which is a huge relief -- especially since my pointed foot still doesn't look great, and my PT told me not to worry because it will come. (I think her exact words were, "This is not going to be a good time for your foot. Make your peace with it!") So, while my ankle continues to heal, I'm doing a lot of hip and glute strengthening exercises to get my body back in dancin' shape.

Every evening, I also have the pleasure of slathering my incision site with cocoa butter and digging into it with the handle of a dinner knife. The purpose of this medieval torture activity is to break up scar tissue and make sure that it doesn't restrict my range of motion or get tangled up with the many nerve endings in that part of the ankle. It's excruciating, but my scar does feel a little smoother. At the very least, it's well moisturized and smells like chocolate...

I see my surgeon and physical therapist a week from today, probably for the last time (at least for the surgeon -- I'm not sure how many more PT sessions I'll have after this). It's weird to feel this journey starting to wind down. I won't miss the 3 1/2-hour drives to Indianapolis each way, but oddly enough, I've always looked forward to these appointments. It's nice to know where I stand in my recovery and get advice on how I can keep improving.

Lately I've gotten a lot of questions and comments from friends/acquaintances along the lines of "So you're all better now?" and "I can't even tell you had surgery!" It's true that I can wear regular shoes, walk around without limping, and perform all the normal functions I need to get through a day. I'm thankful for that, especially since I couldn't do any of those things a couple months ago, but that doesn't begin to cover what I need to dance -- to fulfill the passions and aspirations that add magic into my life. Dancing is part of my soul, and it's hard to take things slowly and have so many restrictions and uncertainties. This story is by no means over and there are still many question marks, namely to what extent I'll be able to perform in Nutcracker this year (we start rehearsals in just over a month, and I'm not even back on pointe yet). That's another question I've been getting a lot lately!

This summer has been a crazy rollercoaster of ups and downs, but I'm comforted by the fact that I don't have to go through it by myself. I was listening to the Weepies song I posted on here a few weeks ago (the one with the Ted Mosby puppet in the video!) and was surprised to find that I'm in a very different frame of mind these days. "Now you do it on your own/But you find you're all alone..." is how I may have felt at times during my recovery, but the truth is that I have never walked alone on this journey. I'm surrounded by angels in the form of friends, family, coworkers, dance teachers, doctors, nurses, physical therapists, clinic assistants...they're all pulling for me. They care how I'm feeling both physically and mentally, and their encouragement keeps me going on the hard days when I feel so far from where I want to be. A heartfelt thanks to everyone who has supported me throughout this process and continues to hang in there with me!

Happies

After my last Debbie Downer of a post, I thought it was time to lighten things up around here. While the process of recovering from surgery feels slow and at times incredibly frustrating, I'm trying to focus on the little things that make me smile. Here are three of them:

1. Shoes. Let's get some shoes.

If you didn't catch the reference, click here. You may thank me later.

No offense to my Saucony Ride 5s*, which have served me well for the last six weeks, but I am beyond thrilled to wear some of the other shoes that have been gathering dust in my closet. (Plus, I get to show off my sweet scar.) I wore these comfy Born sandals to run errands on Saturday, when it was a glorious 71 degrees and breezy. My feet felt like they were on vacation. Unfortunately, the rest of me was still in Indiana. Now I should probably start painting my toenails.

2. Banana Feet.

My physical therapist drew this illustration for one of my stretching exercises. (That would be me, the bunhead with the towel under her feet.) I thanked her for giving me banana feet, but I'm still waiting for my actual feet to follow suit.

3. Love.

My husband went on a guys' camping and rock climbing trip in Kentucky last weekend, so not only was I mopey, but I was alone and mopey. We barely talked all weekend because his cell phone was dying (turns out there are no chargers in rock faces?), but I think he sensed the bummer of a mood and brought home these beautiful Trader Joe's flowers. He's the sweetest...and also, handsome. (That's his studly self in the background with some girl in white.)

*Speaking of my Sauconys, one of the best pre-surgery tips I could offer someone is to buy comfortable sneakers if you don't have them already! My old ones made my knees hurt for some reason, so the week before surgery I went to a local running store, had a gait analysis done, and splurged on some new sneaks. So glad I did -- I wore them almost every day for the first six weeks after surgery.

Can't Go Back Now

I’ll start this post with the disclaimer that I may regret the decision to BWE (Blog While Emotional). But as one of my favorite ‘90s songstresses, Dido, once said, “If I didn’t say it, well, I’d still have felt it. Where’s the sense in that?”

Earlier this week I had a double-header of appointments in Indianapolis: my six-week checkup with my surgeon, and my first session with a physical therapist who is a former professional ballet dancer. The first appointment went faster and better than I could have imagined. According to my surgeon, the range of motion in my ankle, both pointing and flexing, looks great. My incision is totally healed. I could stop wearing my ankle brace and, best of all, head back to ballet class. By my next appointment, he expected I would be doing everything I could before surgery, including pointe work and jumping. I scheduled one last appointment for mid-September and sailed out of there.

That feeling didn’t last long. My PT's take on the situation was not quite as glowing. No way was I heading back to class right away, and “in six weeks,” she said, “we'll talk about pointe.”

The appointment started with a bunch of measurements, and let’s just say that when my surgeon forced my foot into a pointed position, it measured 110 degrees. When I had to point my foot myself and hold it there, it measured 72 degrees. I don’t have the muscle memory and the strength to reach my end range of motion — it’s almost like my body thinks the extra bone is still jammed in the back of my ankle.

Also alarming is that I have (again, PT’s words) “very effectively learned to substitute” incorrect muscles and tendons to protect my bad ankle. Now I have to un-learn those habits and re-train my body, which is not the easiest task after a year and a half of being in pain. It’s horrifying now to think about how long my injuries went misdiagnosed and unaddressed, and how much time I spent developing coping mechanisms so I could continue to dance.

My PT reminded me that my FHL tear was significant — that I need to be patient and careful because, after all, I ended up having a worse injury and more extensive surgery than I initially thought. She gave me a bunch of new stretching and strengthening exercises to do on my own, and I see her again in three weeks.

I know I have so much to be thankful for, namely that I have access to fantastic care from professionals who know how to get me back to dancing. But after hearing so many friend-of-a-friend stories about dancers going back to barre a few weeks after surgery, it’s disheartening to feel like my own recovery isn’t progressing as well.

I spent much of the 3 ½-hour drive home in horrible pain (scar tissue massage, hello!) and trying to fight back tears of frustration. Of course, in its magical and creepy “I know your soul” sorta way, my iPod’s shuffle mode produced this song:

Yesterday, when you were young,

Everything you needed done was done for you.
Now you do it on your own
But you find you’re all alone,
What can you do?

…You know there will be days when you’re so tired that you can’t take another step,
The night will have no stars and you’ll think you’ve gone as far as you will ever get.

But you and me walk on, walk on, walk on
Cause you can’t go back now

So here I go: walking on and trying to keep my chin up, in true ballet dancer style. By the way, does anyone else think that puppet looks just like Ted Mosby?

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!