For those of you who don’t already know (even though I’ve tried to make it as obvious as I possibly can on this blog for what should be obvious reasons), I had a rod implanted into bone in my right foot to repair what happened when I fell over my own two feet having a seizure resulting in what medical professionals call a Jones fracture. I also had a physeal fracture somewhere else on the same bone of the fifth metatarsal. It took a few months of waiting until I could get in to see a few specialists about it, but it was determined from there that surgery would be required to repair everything. As it was, the fracture was… how do I say shattered?

I had to show up at the hospital at five in the morning, which was a bit absurd but something that I managed to get done securing childcare and transportation. It took them about an hour and a half to get my IV in, then I had to wait a little bit longer to have the block put in my leg and ankle that ensured that I would not feel the ensuing conversation. Just before nine o’clock I was wheeled into the operating room and given the medication that would sedate me for the surgery… which took longer to take effect in me than it does most people (I am a natural redhead). I came to in the recovery bay being told that the surgery took much longer than they had anticipated and that they were on the fence about keeping me in the hospital overnight to monitor my breathing because I started to go into periods of apnea — this happens when I am having a seizure. I was given medication while out to counteract this which worked well enough, allowing my podiatrist to complete surgery on my foot. She did exactly what I wanted her to do when facing this.

And now we wait to heal and I wait to recover enough to be able to walk. Function is all I ask for.