Feet are gross

March 29, 2023

Feet are gross

Yesterday we went back to Warwick for the first follow up.

Traffic there was terrible, I kept seeing single magpies and was dreading the appointment

Of course, we couldn’t find a parking space, so he ended up dropping me off and then parking away in a side street somewhere. Probably a god job considering how squeemish he is.

Now. I thought I was seeing my surgeon and he was gonna remove the bandages with a ta dah! florish and then stick a new pile on and tell me witty stories whilst unravelling the stitches.

Nope.

Was taken from outpatients to the ‘fracture clinic’ with a ‘plaster request form’ … ohmydays.

Eventually, I got taken into a room with a little girl who can’t have been much more than two. She had broken her arm and was in for a colourful cast. She made less noise and fuss than I did. Cringe.

The lovely nursing team chopped the bandages away, I guess they can’t really be recycled and then produced a massive blade thing and blue tweezers (which I was gonna ask if I could keep b’cs they’re the plastic ones we use for mealworm feeding but I chickened out) and just got to work. Ouch, ouch and more ouch.

Then a surgeon bloke came in, said it looked okay and I wasn’t to get it wet, I wasn’t to put any weight on it and I wasn’t to knock the pin. I assume he was a surgeon, he was in green and everyone else was in blue around me.

Great. But I don’t have a new bandage!!! I just have a little plaster on it, not even a pretty one.

I took photos of course. But I’ve been told I shouldn’t just load them for peeps who are squeemish or nervous. So I might do a new blog post called ‘feet pics’ and you can look or not look.

Journey home was less dramatic but I didn’t feel great. Got home, chucked up and then slept for 6 hours.

I’ve been relying on the magic of chocolate buttons to keep me sane these last few days. Just six of an evening, made into three flying saucer shapes, fit perfectly in the roof of my mouth and last forever. But there was no way I was having chocolate buttons yesterday. Gutted.

Going back in two weeks for hopefully pin removal. Except they’d rather it stayed for 6 weeks from operation and that falls right into the middle of our holiday and the man in green said that’s not ideal. If I get an infection or bang it whilst away, they can’t promise to fix it when we get back. So now I’m stressing that if it comes out before, at 4 weeks post-op, it won’t have fused or healed or fixed the issue.

My brain is a bit of a mess. My foot is icky and gross and I’ve got a pin sticking out the end of it. Anyway, pics next.

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