I was following a strict protocol of recovery and finally was able to go outside for a stroll. It was the most beautiful day and I was totally enjoying being outside and walking by the lake with my daughter, husband and my dog Whinnie.
Suddenly, without any warning I went over on my ankle. It hurt so much! I tried to roll it back but it was as though it was somebody else's foot. It didn't respond. Everything changed that day. The pain started again. And now I'm back at Toronto Western.
I was lead into the doctor's office and met with two Surgical Fellows. They asked a lot of questions, scanned the x-ray, and MRI. Having spent many years dealing with doctors I wasn't shy so I started asking questions. It was clear they felt I would require more surgery and I wasn't surprised.
My doctor came in and once we started talking, it was obvious this situation was far more severe than either the Fellows had suspected or I had even considered. I would not be a small corrective surgery but a full reconstructive surgery. It would require a week in hospital and an extensive recovery.
My heart sank and I tried to keep prospective. I couldn't even look at my husband. I felt him beside me and I knew our disappointment was equaled by my usually stoic neurosurgeon. He apologized that I would have to go through such extensive surgery. I told him I trusted him, and I do.
The final blow came when he told me I should be prepared for the possibility of time in rehab afterward.
Tears filled my eyes and I barely held my composure.
I'm about to embark on my third neurosurgery. God help me.