My long, long recovery from ankle fusion surgery finally approaches the end. Sunday starts Week 14 of a 14-week recovery period that I often thought would never arrive.

It All Started with a Break

This all started 33 years ago, when I broke my left ankle while going down the basement stairs in near-darkness. I didn’t turn on the light because the smoke detector in the kitchen usually went off when we made toast and we often flipped the fuse to Off just to shut it up. It took four hours of surgery and miscellaneous hardware to screw my ankle back together. Eight weeks of healing followed that included a cast, crutches, and finally an air cast.

Well, last November that ankle started to act up. It began to hurt with every step and the pain grew worse. Finally, I couldn’t walk on that foot at all. Multiple trips to an orthopedist and then an orthopedic surgeon followed. We discussed ankle fusion vs ankle replacement. The latter had significant downsides attached to it, so I went with the fusion, which the call the “gold standard” for this kind of repair.

Surgery took place at Massachusetts General Hospital on March 6.  I would show you the X-ray but I did that with a friend recently and she almost dropped my phone.

Recuperation Begins

Recuperation for this procedure began with my lower leg in a splint. Because I could not put weight on it, I used a walker and hopped along behind it. I would not describe this process as high tech in any way and it put a lot of stress on my remaining good ankle. If this makes sense to you, great, because it felt un-productive to me. Also, scary.

A physical therapist and an occupational therapist both came to my house to demonstrate how best to navigate moving around, taking a shower, staying strong, etc. I found sleeping with this giant structure on one foot like taking a boat anchor to bed with me.

I learned that some local senior centers have something called an Equipment Room that are filled with devices to help with mobility, like crutches, knee scooters, and walkers. They also offer specialized equipment such as shower benches, shower chairs, and potty chairs to help with life’s biological necessities. They’re free; you just return them when done.

The Recovery Continues

Splint #1 was followed by Splint #2, which was even bigger and bulkier. I spend most of my days in a recliner with my foot elevated on cushions. Spring passed by outside. Fortunately for me, this year’s cold, dark, wet spring made it easier to stay inside looking out.

Aside from doctor’s appointments I went nowhere. Zoom connected me with group meetings and church services. My husband and son brought me meals, although I was often not hungry.

Still the daffodils and then the tulips bloomed without me. It seemed like the next time I looked out; the lilacs were in flower along with forsythia. If I could see it outside my window, it existed; otherwise, I missed out. And I missed working in my garden. Oh, well.

After 4 weeks, Splint #2 came off and was replaced by a cast up to my knee. Somehow, I had hoped this would be shorter and lighter, easier to manipulate. I was wrong. The cast went all the way up to my knee and down to my toes. Sigh. The cast proved to be just another boat anchor.

Moving Recovery to the Boot

This phase lasted 9 weeks until, finally, the cast came off and the removable boot went on. As anyone who has ever worn a cast can tell you, the only things left on your leg when the cast comes off are hair and dry skin. The leg muscles have completely atrophied from disuse.

But the boot meant a real improvement because: (1) I could take it off at night and in the shower; (2) I could put partial weight on my left foot and could stop hopping. (Yes, I had been hopping with crutches or a walker all this time.)

The bad news was that I had to put the boot on when I needed the bathroom at night and this was a complicated, noisy process. It felt kind of like field-stripping an M-16 blindfolded. And the edges of the gaps in the boot proved sharp enough to cut me if I tried to scratch without being careful.

The Final Stretch of Recovery

By Week 13, I could take off the boot and put some weight on the ankle. I bought a cane because: (1) I had grown weak and was afraid of falling; and (2) It reduced the weight on the ankle. Finally, I had some real mobility that didn’t involve moving two or three pounds of device with every step.

I haven’t used the boot except to give a tour last week. (I made sure it was one that didn’t involve much walking, and my husband drove me in and home again.)

And in Week 14, this will improve even more. Recovery now involves physical therapy both in the office and in the pool. Even more important to me, I have to build my strength back up after months of inactivity. While I’m not pumping iron, I can exercise in the pool without impact or pain. What a relief!

The Light at the End

For all those months, I sometimes thought the recovery would never end and I would never walk again without pain. After all, it took less time to recover from breaking it in the first place.

Now I can see the light at the end of the tunnel and have confidence that I will, eventually, be mobile once more. I will be able to walk, to climb stairs, to work in the garden, to be independent. That means the world to me.