Wednesday, May 27, 2009


It's two a.m. and I'm still awake. I've been in bed for a while, but I just lay awake, unable to shut my brain down. I could take something to help me sleep, but I've always hated taking unnecessary medication and I've taken so much necessary medication lately I'm hesitant to add anything to the mix. I feel like I'm slowly killing my liver and kidneys.

I've had a lot of sleepless nights recently. Andy says it's because I eat so much sugar and usually have some ice cream before bedtime. I disagree, but only because I've always had more sugar in my diet than a regular person and I've never felt the effects before. I know my insomnia is because I can't stop wondering what's going to happen next. I worry about everything and there are endless unanswered questions that usually surface when everything is quiet and I give myself time to think. I don't want to bother Andy with them because he has enough to worry about himself and I'm sure some of my own questions have occurred to him too.

Every day is a giant question mark. How will I feel? Will my swelling have gone down or back up again? Is Andy too stressed out? What can I do to make his life easier? When will I be able to work again? Why did this happen? When will I be me again? The questions are endless and largely unanswerable.

My frustration reached a peak tonight and I wished aloud to be whole again. Today was the first day in six weeks that I've been allowed to put any weight on my broken ankle. I guess it's technically not broken anymore, but until it functions as it once did I'm considering it to be broken.

I had this grand vision of myself rising on both of my feet, with my boot on of course, and "toddling" across the room like a one year old taking their first steps; somewhat unstable, but independent nonetheless. It didn't happen that way. Not even close.

I stood, but my boot has a thick sole so it isn't possible to evenly distribute my weight. Then I took a step, and nearly fell down. My leg refused to hold me up. The atrophy I've experienced has come as a complete surprise, and seemed to happen almost overnight. One day my legs were equally yolked, and the next day my right was half the size of my left. I have a real problem with this, not just because my strength is so deteriorated, but also because my legs have always been a great source of pride for me. They have always been the strongest and most able part of my body.

It's kind of ironic that my legs are so strong and my ankles are so week and so prone to injury. They've always twisted easily and growing up I could be seen regularly sporting an ace bandage shoved down into my keds. Now my weakest part has taken my strongest part down with it. While allowing my ankle to heal my leg has suffered. I know I can work towards making them both stronger than they were before, but looking at my shrunken limb makes my heart hurt. Having it look so frail makes me feel weak all over.

It doesn't just loo frail though, it is frail. After that first step I quickly realized that I would not be giving up my crutches entirely. I refuse to still be completely reliant on them so I'm compromising and using one with my right leg. I hope by this time next week I can build my strength up enough to not need it at all. I suppose I'm more like a toddler than I'd hoped.

Along with my leg and ankle there are all the other things that need to heal. As far as I can tell I'm making progress, though it isn't at the pace I'd like.

I go back to the ear, nose and throat doctor tomorrow. I haven't seen him in a month. A lot can happen in a month, but I feel like very little has. My hope is that I'll see him and he'll tell me how wonderful everything is and that I won't need that extra surgery after all.

In reality I know that my sinuses are still swollen and nearly as tender as they were a month ago. I can feel and see the physical difference between my right nostril and my left. I know my breathing isn't what it should be. While my doctor would like to prevent further surgery if possible I know the liklyhood of coming home with a surgical plan is high. I suppose I can live with that. I would prefer that he'd go ahead and do it rather than wait until all the pain goes away and have to relive it. I'm a "rip the band aid off" kind of girl.

I'll let you know what happens. I'm going to go try to conquer my active brain, but before I surge into battle I'm going to say a little prayer that tomorrow holds good news and some answers with which to fight off the insomnia of nights to come.

1 comment:

  1. The only thing that ever works for me is praying and sometimes that doesn't work.

    The sad part is once again you have read my mind with your post.

    Last night I slept really well but the two nights prior were just like that. My brain would not shut off long enough for me to sleep well.

    I'm sorry you are dealing with that on top of everything else. I'm still thinking and praying for you the be all healed soon.