My dear hopalongers and bootyboot clompers.

My dear hopalongers and bootyboot clompers. Well, tis me, I'm still here. Been a while since I last posted and I have received some private messages from some members how my progress is. So before I start to compose my War and Peace novel, I suggest you have a peepee, get a drink, grab some nibbles, if ya can clomp to the naughty cupboard. I shall being. Oldies, you know the score already, the tale started back in February of this said year. Newbies, well I'm not going to re-cap, I'm sure some of you are now completely numb with boredom, sat around watching Netflix and wondering what you can do next. So, check out my last posts on here and you'll catch up. February you need to go back too. Actually I think this is your homework for the next few weeks, read my posts, errr well thinking about it, if you suffer from anxiety, a nervous condition, then DONT! I have pre-warned you, so don't throw any post at me saying 'I've upset you' none of that rubbish, ta very muchly. Right.... for the oldies of the group, your all probably doing marathons by now, or joined the local community group with their new line dancing evenings or perhaps a bit of Zumba ? god the mind boggles. I think it was July, my last post, and I think I also added an image of me in a shoe! I had just had my first YES, first actual follow up with my surgeon, the old ones on here will know what I'm on about, the newbies, go do ya homework and you'll understand. So its been an absolute fabulous summer here in the UK, thank GOD for the the SUN GOD, that's all I can say. Being able to go outside for 6 months recovery was my recovery (well in my head anyhow). End of July, I was kind of walking about, well actually I'm kidding myself, I was not walking, a more limp, shuffle, with the odd real heal walk. Very bizarre. I still was not able to drive, so I was still marooned in our home. The only excitement I had, was my husband taking us to the supermarket for our weekly food shop. It started well, the husband would just stroll around, mooching, letting me enjoy the shelves, and the freezer cabinets, chatting to the odd person to discuss special offers. By the end of the Summer a total change had hit him. He drove me there, and then it was like a bloody chase him round the soddin place. He'd had enough of food shopping the whole process, even after just a few weeks it had gotten to him. No longer could he take it. When I idled, he would scowl at me and eye contact me to the check-out. Basically no words just facial expression saying "time to go women, I've had enough of this". So there went my supermarket fundays. So in the garden I played, well not played, weeded, talked to the birds, full conversations I have you know. The Robin was quite an intelligent little buddie, the blackbird was a cock, and the thrush, well the answer is in the name to be honest. Sparrows, well they are all dickheads, and quite frankly there is a reason for a Sparrow Hawk. So the weeks just went on and on and on and on. I did housework, dusting, to the point I was amusing myself to find the dust. Did the whole clean the oven, clean the cupboards, move things in the cupboards, move them back cos it was crap, sort socks out, like on YouTube, ridiculous behaviour, who in their right mind folds socks so darn neatly. Nickers too, found a whole new load of YouTube reels on how to fold ya nickers, that's how bad it got. Eventually, August came to an end and in my mind September was going to be the real game changer for me. I had my FINAL hospital appointment with my surgeon. This appointment was basically to just discuss how I was weight bearing on my foot, any issues that I may have, and to discuss the future with regards to either keeping all the metal work in or to remove. So Monday, 14th September the day had arrived. I was intending to drive, but because the journey was over an hour and the traffic has been pretty heavy, my husband said he would drive. Also I have only driven a few times in the last couple of weeks, and those only being to the local shop, no real miles. And my foot has been rather 'pully' shall we say. I've had physio, that's a whole new story, jeez the guy was like something out of Lord of the Rings, he was constantly telling me the weird sensations I was experiencing, was in my mind, and I was over-compensating to protect my foot and that I needed to become more 'fierce' with my movements. Whilst telling me this, he was grasping my foot and giving it a good ol wiggle and push and pull. By the end I shouted at him and told him to basically f***k leave my foot alone mate! it does hurt and its not in my mind. I've digressed again! Apologies. So we get to the hospital in good time. Hubby decided to not come in with me, as we 'assumed' this was going to be a quick appointment, I go in, say hello, surgeon looks at the footie, does a check on the ol incisions, has a chat, and then ta for everything NOT, adios, I'm outta there. Life begins.... whoop whoop. W E L L ,,, not quite folks. I get called in, it was all niceties etc. He noticed I was still limping and mentioned this. I just said that my walking had not progressed as I thought it would of, especially with having physio and all that. I mentioned that my foot, where the metalwork is still felt very sensitive. He decided to take a look at it. He agreed that the incisions, were still looking tender, he then ran his finger down the said area, and I jumped. He asked if it was intense sharp pain, I replied no. I told him the sensation I was getting was like a internal pulling feeling, something I had no words to describe, until I said the word 'loose'. Soon as I said that he said, right, think we had better have an x-ray right now, to double check everything is in order. It was an instant reaction from him. There was no delay, no umming or thinking, just straight into x-ray, now. So x-ray done. Back in his office. By the time I arrived, he was already sat there looking at the images that had come through. You know when you get a sick feeling in the bottom of your stomach, you kind of know something is not right, well that was the feeling I felt when I sat down. He was very quiet, compared to when I first arrived. I knew. Something was up. He then swivelled in his chair and looked at me. I knew instantly. One of my screws has broken in half, another screw has mis-aligned and the plate has lifted and so it is not sitting flush with the bone. So Mr Physiotherapy chap, it's not in my brain, I was right. I have broken metalwork in my soddin foot ! hence the pulling yukky sensations I have been experiencing. TWAT ! So here comes the fun bit. I'm now on a short-list operation wait list to have the metalwork completely removed. Once the surgeon opens my ikkle footie up again, has a poky about he said he needs to check on the bone density and where the metalwork was. If the bone looks solid, strong and does not wobble! then that will be FAB and he will just sew my footie up and off I go in a cast for another 6+ weeks. Life will be good. BUT .... If the bone is soft, not bridging well, and is wibblywobbly, then he will have to take bone from my ankle and do a fusion. Which will mean longer recovery time. Well I'm a professional now with healing time eh! easypeasy, do it with my eyes closed and all that crap. He said he will not be putting metalwork back in my foot. I guess that's a bonus folks? who knows. I did ask would I have flex in my foot should the fusion happen. His response was open, as I knew it would be after all these months. Until the op and the recovery, its a void as to how my foot will respond. Ah that gives me so much joy. Ironically , after I had the news, I became numb, I sat there, all I kept thinking of was my husband, and supermarkets ! Oh my days, how was hubby gonna take this news. Poor sod, 6 months of me being a complete limpylimp, and my brain going foggy, and talking to birds. You really could not make this up. So I left the office, and hubby came to pick me up. He instantly knew something was not right, probably because of all the tear blotches all over my face, kinda told the story. He too just sat there for a few minutes, taking it all in. His first words were, he should of been there with me. The only time, he never came into the office with me, typical. Then he just said how upset he was for me, and could not imagine how I was feeling there and then. My reply then was... wait for it... "well it's not what I wanted, but its what I've got so I have to deal with it. So whilst we are in a big town, we need to get some supplies for home, lets go find a nice BIG SUPERMARKET" just to finish the day off". He smiled and wagged his finger at me, don't understand that ? For me, the biggest miserable part of all this. 3 weeks ago I applied for my dream job as I thought I was well on the way of normality. This position came up out of the blue. I was searching jobs on-line and there it was. So excited, I applied. Today I had to phone them up and retract my application because of what's happened. It was the right thing to do but I'm so gutted. They sounded so nice too, and I actually spoke to the chap that had contacted me about my application. I would of worked with him and we really hit it off, albeit over the phone. There maybe light at the end of this truly very long tunnel, he said he would keep my application on file, in case another opportunity becomes available. He also said that he really appreciated me being up-front and honest and to avoid them having unnecessary admin work, a rare quality he said. So perhaps I have gained some brownie points. Who knows, after all this rubbish, and what this year has dealt me, perhaps there is a little seed just sat in the dark waiting for the sun to shine through and to grow for me. So that's it folks, I said it was a War and Peace post. You all probably need another peepee. I will stay active on this site. As my story is un-finished. So as I normally close... Be well. Be happy. Be always mindful that whatever cards are dealt you, eventually you will have the winning hand. And if those Lemons keep on giving, just get the bloody gin out. Adios for now. Vi x.