After a long night in a hotel room preparing for an eye doctor appointment I woke up with some terrible pain in my right shoulder. Being the product of a football coach and a lifelong athlete, I figured the pain would pass. It didn't. It got to the point that you could not even touch it. I could barely open a car door. It ended up being a labral tear with some bicep tendinitis. I was referred to a physical therapist. After three months I was still in a great deal of pain. At that point I was sent to an orthopedic specialist where I was given a steroid shot. Goodness, that hurt. It did help me get through eight more weeks of therapy. I still needed another eight weeks but this insanity, now known as COVID-19, halted all treatment.
Because I had been working so hard I was given an at-home program to follow. I completed eight more weeks at home. I finally reached a goal that was going to allow me to stop therapy. I was given some maintenance exercises to follow thereafter. I was elated. Something that was supposed to be a simple eight week program turned into a nine month attempt to rehab. I am a total Type A so of course I was ridiculously disciplined. I conquered my final goal for shoulder rehab on a Thursday. That Sunday was Mother's Day so we planned a cook-out with my parents. It was exciting. Not so fast. The world played an evil trick on me.
For those of you who are unfamiliar with COVID, we have been in quarantine since early March. Since I am incredibly high risk I have been stuck at home since March 13. My parents run errands and get groceries when my husband cannot. We were pretty excited to hang out and do something "normal". The world has been in such upheaval. Health and science have been politicized. No one knows much about this novel virus, and new information is rolling in daily, sometimes contradicting the information we thought we already knew. Groceries are hard to come by. People have lost jobs and family members. Frightening stories roll out from all over the world. Churches are not holding in-person services. The school year was completed, by most, at home. The entire world is in survival mode against a predator we have no idea how to fight.
That Sunday morning I woke up excited for the warm weather and eager to smell the beautiful aroma of a barbecue. My parents were going to show up in about an hour. My son and I were going to run out and get a soda before they came. My husband was in the shower. We just moved into a new home and things are a bit older. I closed the door to a steamy bathroom quickly because I hate steam. Weird, but true. A full length mirror behind the door fell and shattered. When I opened the door to see what the noise was I realized I needed to quickly clean up the glass so my husband could get out of the shower safely. Avoiding the glass, I made my way to the bathroom window. I am too short to open it so I stepped up on the toilet. You know where this is going...as I went to step off my supporting foot slipped. In an attempt to miss falling on glass, I stiffened up and landed awkwardly on my foot. I let out a scream, which is rare because I can take pain really well. Adrenaline was running so I don't remember feeling much. I thought I had just tweaked it. I cleaned up the glass and headed out for my soda.
My foot hurt, but I have banged myself up pretty bad before so it was no big deal. My son kept asking if I was ok. I brushed it off saying "I'm fine. Just a stinger." When we got home I realized it was more than a stinger. It was hard to walk up the driveway to our front door. I did not want to take off my shoe because I did not want to see what was wrong. I also didn't want it to swell. I figured I'd deal with it after the cook-out. A little ice, some elevation, and I'd be good. WRONG. My dad had me take off my shoe so we could ice it. I quickly realized I could not even put weight on it. Being in the middle of the COVID-19 pandemic there was no way I was going to go to the ER.
The next morning I got ahold of my doctor. He sent me for X-rays and referred me to a podiatrist. I was so frustrated because I had just finished up with my shoulder. Now I was going to have to heal another injury? Yup. Turns out I broke two bones. Calcaneus and cuboid. That is the heal bone and the stabilizing bone that connects it to the rest of your foot. Due to the fact that I have a gastric stimulator I am not able to have MRI's. In this type of injury it is important to get an MRI to evaluate soft tissue around the bones. The next best option is an ultrasound. Welcome to rural New Mexico. I was referred to a hospital a few hours away for said ultrasound as they are different than an ultrasound you would get during pregnancy. With a scheduled appointment confirmed a few times with specifics, we made the scary trek to another city that had a lot of COVID cases. Remember, I had been totally isolated for months. Now all of a sudden I was in and out of doctors' offices and hospitals, and a different city. I got to the hospital and checked in. In all of these settings only the patient is allowed. Due to the high number of cases of this highly contagious virus, no one is allowed to accompany you. After waiting a little while I was informed that they did not have the correct ultrasound machine. Apparently the frequency necessary is different than that of a typical ultrasound. The determination was that I needed to go to another state to get this ultrasound.
I returned to my local doctor. We discussed options and decided to hold off on the ultrasound. I was just going to stay in a boot and not put any weight on it. I had already been doing this for about four weeks while trying to get all the imagining done. I was scheduled for a follow-up four weeks later in the hopes that I could move up to a walking boot. Hopefully the walking boot would last about six- eight weeks then I could move on to physical therapy.
In a strange twist, the physical therapy facility I had been going to for my shoulder called. They were now going to be allowed to bring patients back in. They wanted me to schedule an appointment. I explained I had done what was planned out for me, but they still wanted me to come in. I made the appointment letting them know I had injured my foot and could not put weight on it. Although it added some challenges, they determined I still need to work on my shoulder so they got creative with treatment and started me back up. Oh goodness, I must stay positive! Surely I am near the end of total shoulder rehab. I took on the challenge.
Here I am, a week away from seeing the podiatrist for my follow-up and I am still in a great deal of pain. I am back to cringing every time I move. I know I take longer to heal with all I have going on. I also know I eat well and continue to find creative ways to exercise without bearing weight. Why then, is it still so painful? My research brain finally took over. I started looking things up only to get discouraged reading about healing in four- six weeks plus physical therapy. I decided to get my head out of the sand and look into diabetes and bone healing. Due to bad circulation that comes along with diabetes, the feet are a big concern. Nerves and tissue get damaged easily and it can quickly go bad. I had never paid attention to bone issues though.
I pride myself on my knowledge. I call myself an information junky or professional student. I like to understand what is going on so I can play an active role; not just in my health, but in life. I often try to stay away from internet health research. It is like the bible in that anyone can find anything that suits their ideas/ fears/ opinions. I do not want to play doctor. I also did not want to call the doctor a week early, eventhough he said to call if anything came up. I just want to avoid more visits, especially since I am now back in organized physical therapy. My main fear is that he will want the ultrasound to look at the soft tissue if it is continuing to hurt so badly after seven weeks. Not only do I not want more appointments, but I do not want to travel. The pandemic of 2020 is no joke, especially for the high risk. Rather than call the doctor, I turned to the internet for validation.
Turns out it can take 87% longer for a broken bone to heal in a diabetic. On top of that, there is a 3.4 times higher risk of complications such as infection, dislocation, delayed union, nonunion, malunion, and more. What?! I looked high and low for something more positive, but this is what I kept coming across. Article after article, study after study. If there were no actual numbers, the information was the same. I am not sure how I feel about this. On one hand, I am glad to know it is normal for my body not to react like a generally healthy person (as if I thought I was Wolverine and could heal no matter what), but on the other hand the timeline seems so daunting. I have been and, a little moreso now, am worried about soft tissue damage and what treatment may look like beyond just healing the bone.
What do I take away from this? Take a step back. Rest. Rest as much as possible. Be patient. I will have a bone density scan on Monday and will see the podiatrist Tuesday. He will give me the information I need. If it is necessary to travel for some additional imagining, so be it. Maybe it will be a nice change of scenery. Hopefully it will be fairly close. Remember that if there is ever a time to be laid up, it might as well be during a stay-at-home order due to the COVID-19 pandemic. Eat as well as possible. Drink water. Monitor my blood sugar closely to keep it as controlled as possible. Better control leads to better healing. And finally, take note. What have I learned in the past ten months being injured? Blessings. I have always had a positive attitude, but these things make you take inventory.
This pandemic has left people lonely, sad, scared, out of work, financially strapped, and so much worse. My shoulder injury happened in August, but the pandemic truly began in January, then my foot in May. It is tough being chronically ill. I like to think I handle it well, but I do struggle just as anyone else would. This has made me want to be, what I refer to as, "Lauren sick" not "Lauren sick and injured". I actually miss just being sick. Maybe that wasn't so bad, eh? I am lucky to have my son and husband. We are lucky my husband has a job in an essential field like pharmacy. We have a home, clothes, food, and the most fantastic little nine month old rescue dog. We have luxuries like internet, TV, computers, cell phones, air conditioning, and running water. We live in NM with some of the most beautiful scenery. We have sunshine more days than not. Pandemic or not. Injured or not. I am so blessed to live this gift of life. I am so blessed to have a body, although sick and banged up, that allows me to move everyday. I have learned some pretty cool new exercises along the way that are actually really fun. Sometimes you have to embrace that kid in you and just let it all out. Chair jumping jacks are pretty darn fun. And chair boxing, come on now? So fun. Have you tried a "hurt foot workout party"?
Truth be told, I have been having a pity party these last three days. Researching, digesting, writing, and laughing have helped me get to this point. Life ain't all that bad. We go through some tough stuff sometimes. You cannot grow a beautiful garden in beautiful beach sand. Sometimes you have to cultivate the dirt, through some crap in, plant some seeds, and nurture it to see the true beauty that emerges. This pandemic, these diseases, these injuries have all made me who I am today. And today folks, I am one resilient, strong, smart, faithful, and proud fighter. Take that.
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