Winning (!!!) . . .
the race to a bionic future. The knee? Titanium and plastic. The ankle? Three screws and a plate.
As of yesterday, I've been declared released from the care of The Shit. He told me his work was done. Five weeks and two days after surgery, the bones had healed enough for him to say, much to my chagrin, that it's time for me to move into the recovery stage. As of yesterday, I was still sporting the big boot and supporting myself with crutches. The Shit told me to wean myself off of both within the next few days. You know what that meant right? I gave up the crutches a few hours later. It was just me and my gigantic boot. Then I woke up this morning, after having slept without the boot for the first time in six weeks, and decided I wouldn't be putting on the boot. In fewer than 24 hours, I'd taken the first steps toward returning to some sort of normalcy.
This morning, I even went to the pool. It was my first aerobic workout in six weeks. Once again, the pull buoy is my friend. It allows me to get my heart rate up without taxing the joint, the joint that seems to be stuck in one position!!! I so walk like a zombie!!
Anyway, here we go again with the recovery and rehab of a compromised joint. Didn't I travel down this path in 2009? Well, here I am again, walking on—or, in my case, walking like a zombie on—familiar ground.
It's only a matter of time before I can get my gills into saltwater again. I won't go in until I'm certain the joints are ready. When they are, it's on!!!