Diary of a soon-to-be Gimp

Dear Diary,

Tomorrow I'm having foot surgery. Yikes!

It will be the first time I've ever been put under anesthesia (a trip to the twilight zone, as my Dr. calls it) or given a prescription for anything stronger than Advil. I'm feeling a little nervous. I can't decide what I'm more nervous about: being put under but only under enough not to be able to say "Hey I can still feel everything!!!" (that documentary I saw twenty years ago about that very thing happening to surgery patients has scared and scarred me for life!) OR the things that may come out of my mouth post-surgery, in a drugged and star-crossed daze, right before I infuse it further by popping Vicodin. Since I've never been under the influence of anything in my life, I feel like giving me Vicodin might just be like giving sugar to a baby for the first time. I wouldn't put it past Tom to record any "tender moments".

I cannot be held responsible for out-of-the-norm words or actions I may say or do when on a medication that strictly prohibits driving or operating heavy machinery while taking it, let alone consuming alcohol, and can be sold for more than I make in a week. Yet, I'll still be allowed to work and play with children... Hmmmm...

This surgery has been a couple months in the making and, leading up to it, I have been really nervous about things that might seem silly, like not being put under enough, or being put under too much and crossing over to the other side for good. I mean really, the procedure is routine, I have an excellent doctor whom a friend used for surgeries on both his feet, and it's something quite common (even if I'm much much younger than the norm and have a more pronounced case than is common). But in any situation, things can happen, stuff does go wrong, even during the most routine procedures, and so I'll just let myself have my worries, face my fears, and then enjoy laughing about it later when none of them come true.

Anyways, my nerves have mostly calmed and now that I'm a mere night's sleep away from fixing my foot, I'm actually excited! I'm ready not to be in pain when I walk anymore. I'm ready to fit into heels easier and have both feet be able to stand them equally, instead of one giving up before we're out the door and the other one making fun of it for being a wus and ruining the night. Yes, I'm ready to be pain free. Well, after they break my toe, cut pieces out of it, put a pin in it, and it heals for four weeks in a weekly changed bandages and a walking boot, that is. Yes, THEN I'll be ready not to be in pain when I walk! I hope it works. Wouldn't that suck if not! As my Dr. says (I like quoting him 'cause he's so positive and confident), "You're young, you're healthy, it's past time this was taken care of, and it's going to be great!" So hooray!

The recovery will probably be the roughest part. I'm gearing up for some pain. Although I hear good things, I also hear painful things. I don't really know what to expect, and my tolerance is usually pretty good when it comes to pain or discomfort, but I know I'll be down and out over the weekend for sure and there's no way I'll be going up and down six flights of stairs to pick Hayden up from school that first week back. Thank goodness for helpful Moms willing to bring him down to ground level for me (that's right, a private school in NYC without an elevator--don't ask me where the tuition goes). Thank goodness for understanding bosses who know I'll be slow moving, maybe even slow thinking. Thank goodness for a boyfriend ready and willing to wait on me hand and two-feet and be there for physical and emotional support. I'll be couch potato-ed for quite a few days, and I really don't do well when forced to sit still; I need an enforcer.

I'm a little worried about going back to work next week, since my job is very walking based, but I know how to ask for help and I refuse to feel guilty about not being able to do everything. If I don't heal properly I'll only be helpless for longer, so I may as well suck it up, take it slow, and finish strong!

One cool tid-bit: my stitches will be inside and underneath my skin, so the surface incision will grow back together naturally, the stitches underneath will dissolve, and there shouldn't be a very visible scar (if visible at all) within six months to a year! Even though I don't care about the scar because it's just my foot and it'll be small anyways, I think that new bit of healing help was pretty nifty.

Although I had the worst pedicure of my life tonight, I refuse to let that dampen the mood of enjoying my last moments of my fast paced routine. I will bask in the glory of my final shower in the morning (before I have to make certain my bandages don't get wet, I can't fully shave my legs, and I may fall over and need to be naked-rescued--it'll be an interesting month of hygiene care). I squeezed in some extra quick, bouncing steps up and down the subway stairs today, walked blocks and blocks in minutes (trying to go faster than usual just because I knew I could), and I've been wearing high heels at some point every day for the past week so I'll have fond memories to call upon during my sentence of one tennis shoe and a thick plastic block to drag around for the next twenty-eight days! I also muscled up one last wrestle with the kiddos (even though tonight I accidentally plopped Jasper on his neck and felt horrible! He bounced back quick--after a screaming anger / pain fit--and wanted another go; typical boy) . Yes I've been reveling in my final moments as my original self, on my original feet, even with my original pain. Tomorrow I'll be a new me. It's kind of weird. I'll go to sleep with my old foot and wake up with a new and improved one! My foot will learn to grow and function correctly, and I might even get a few good and legal hallucinations in there in the process!

So here I go. From Super Sarah, to Gimpy Girl. I think I'm ready... Prayers, fingers, and crooked toes crossed!

If I don't make it out alive, well, at least my foot will still be feeling good on the other side!

Love,
Sarah