Stupid Cripple Moment #2: PAIN

So my next stroke of post-surgery brilliance came the night after I got my new cast put on (that was May 17th, in case you were wondering.)

I was so excited to get the old cast off and the staples out of my foot I could have died. It felt like a major accomplishment (which sounds stupid, since I wasn't really doing anything) in the recovery process. Taking the staples out really didn't hurt (which I really thought it would) and the whole process was pretty easy and painless. Unfortnately, it also meant getting a new cast on, which always sort of sucks. Not that the process sucks, simply that having one sucks, on the upside, I thought the next time this baby came off, it would be the end of my hard cast days!

We got the soft wrapping of the foot all done (they do this to protect the wound), and I even tested it out (putting weight on my foot for the first seconds in weeks) and it seemed fine. They put the cast on (and in fact, I could even see my toes!) and sent my on my way. My doc left with the wise (and now forboding) parting words of, "Remember, it is supposed to be hurting less now, not more." Everything seemed fine....

...until about 3 hours later. My foot started to hurt. More specifically my big toe and the joint started to hurt. A lot. Zach came home from work and saw one pathetic wife on the couch. I thought maybe the pain was just from the doc minipulating my toe (which was awefully painful on its own) and maybe he over did it. Frankly, it was probably the worst pain I had felt up to that point with this whole thing. This should have been a rather obvious sign that something was wrong and that I should do something about it. But of course I didn't.

I eventually crawled up the stairs (I think there might have been some crying involved) and went to bed, doped up on Vicodin, in hopes of a decent night sleep and a better morning.

Amazingly, I woke up feeling not too bad. I went to work, and it still wasn't too bad. I called the doctor anyways, since that "call if it hurts" warning was still in my head. With the report that was CURRENTLY feeling not too bad, they scheduled an appointment for the following day, just to be sure.

I went home, still feeling not too bad. I hit the couch and got my foot up and it started to hurt. I took some Vicodin, hopeing it would help. By the time Zach got home (about 8 or 8:30) it was terrible pain and had taken as much Vicodin as was allowed. It was rivaling the night before, however I could barely even set it down on a pillow without more pain. I kept holding my foot higher and higher, but then I couldn't put it down again without excrushiating pain. This was getting ugly.

After an hour or so of back and fourth about what to do (Try to cut the cast off? Go to the ER? Dope me up and wait for tomorrow's appointment?) we decided to do the logical thing. We called the "emergency" number on the doc's card. The number went to his poor wife's cell phone!

We (and by "we" I mean Zach, I could barely talk at this point, other than cries of pain) got the doc on the phone and aftering hearing about the pain (and the fact that I could barely move my big toe) he told us to meet him at the office at 11:00 pm. His assumption was that the cast was simply too tight.

I felt terrible, but at least he thought it important enough to meet up with us in the middle of the night. We made it to the car, although I don't recall exactly how. The doc got the cast off pretty quick, and although there wasn't instant relief, it definitely felt better. As the doc got the x-ray machine ready (to make sure everything really was OK) Zach and I watched as my foot twitched itself back to regular blood flow. My ankle could barely hold up my foot for more than a few seconds, which I guess goes to show how fast atrophy really happens!

A few x-rays later, the doc decided that everything internally was ok (I think he was concerned we might have missed something from last week's fall). He played around with my toe again (which HURT!) and pressed on the bottom of my foot where I was feeling a lot of the pain the night before. He decided I probably had a little spot of internal bleeding/pooling there, which was causing the pain, but with lighter wrapping should take care of itself.

He VERY lightly rewrapped my foot, and re-did the cast. The cast is now only up to a little above my ankle (I think it looks like a big old boot) and with a lot less extra padding then he had added the last time. We were on our way by a little after midnight, with the extra precaution of a prescription for another round of antibiotics, just to be 100% sure.

Since then, the foot has been fine. A little tightness here and there, but no real PAIN.

Lesson learned, when your doc says you shouldn't feel pain, call the moment you do. You'll spare you and your doctor the nightmare of an 11 pm trip to the office!