D-149 - Impatient Outpatient

Forwards several steps, backwards a few?

I was walking fine after the op, but I did what I was told and used the crutches to keep weight of the foot.

24 hours later and still nothing hurt and no painkillers.  Surely the anaesthetic had worn off by now.  But I behaved.

48 hours later, and there was, admittedly a bit of a twinge, but I got a lift to the gym and worked my upper body.

Yesterday, I decided I could do an emergency stop, so drove to the gym.  Upper body had forgotten what workouts were, and was complaining.  I also managed some one legged rowing at a fair pace.

This morning was time to change the dressings and uncover the horror.  I'm hideously bruised, but unlike after my last hurried recovery from a shoulder arthroscopy, there was no gore.  Until I changed the dressing, and the flood gates threatened to open on one of the wounds.

I quickly covered it up and pretended not to see anything.

Back to work tomorrow - I can't malinga any longa.

D-155 - The Journey Starts Here

The Destination

In a little over 5 months, the World Icosathlon Championships begins in Turnhout, Belgium.  I last competed in the 2013 championships in Yeovil, England, and much to my surprise, won my M50 age group category scoring a very modest 8929 points.  I was unable to defend the title in 2015 due to injury, but in May I turn 55, so a new challenge awaits.

After a nondescript 2016, winter training was starting to improve and I entered the British Indoor Pentathlon Championships.  Then just 10 days before the event, my left ankle flared up after some speed training leaving me unable to walk for two days.  I took part nevertheless, and started with a near-to-PB performance in the hurdles (that's not saying much, BTW) before the pain returned, and I had to quit.

Joint Mice

My feet have been a pain for several years so I bit the bullet, saw a consultant and had some MRI scans.  Worryingly, there wasn't much wrong with the left foot, but the right had significant damage, and there was a suspicion of loose bodies, or 'joint mice' as they're affectionately known.

 

Yesterday was the day of reckoning. Two hours out cold while my left ankle was pumped with steroids to shut it up, and from my right ankle the joint mice were evicted - a pair as it turns out.  Some judicious hacking away of superfluous bone finished the job, and now I'm all glued back together again, thankfully without the need for the terrifyingly-titled microfractures.  That's supposed to mean recovery will be quicker.

The New Feet

 

It's funny how the consultant says one thing, and you hear another.  I'm sure I was expecting to be driving by tomorrow and back on the track in a few weeks time.  However, I got a very stern look when I suggested I'd drive to my follow up appointment in a fortnight.  I fear this may be a long and winding road to Turnhout...