August 4, 2010

The Leg Unveiled for Real this Time

Here's the funny thing. . . I have walked around for years with a screw protruding from my bone and it hasn't ever made me feel queasy or grossed out. Sure, it was gross and disgusting, but I guess I just looked at it as part of me, AND couple that with the fact that it came out gradually over time, I guess I just got used to it. This from the girl who used to be grossed out by everything.

Then you become a Mom and part of your mission in life becomes making sure your baby's noses are clear of any and all booger material and the whole gross-out tolerance rises to an entirely new level. You change a couple diapers, deal with post childbirth grossness and you just evolve and deal with it. No one else is going to come to your aid while you're hanging out on the cold tile floor trying to regain consciousness when your baby is crying and needs to be fed. Grossness becomes you.

However, there is one thing that I still can't handle no matter what: incisions. Blech. I just shivered from the top of my head down to my toes. I hate looking at them, can't stand steri-strips (because I know what's underneath them), and dried blood is just nasty. Over the weekend, I changed the steri-strips because they were driving me insane and peeling up. I broke out in an instant sweat on my scalp and straight down the center of my back. I thought I was going to pass out.

Yesterday, I was able to stop wrapping my leg and the center steri-strip, the one I left go the other day for fear of seriously passing out, had to come off and get replaced. I knew I had to clean the incision with some alcohol and just deal with life, but I did it from the comfort of my bathroom floor because I was afraid I would be hitting the floor with my face first if I didn't.I can't imagine you retain break fall knowledge when unconscious. I'll just assume I won't.

So, finally, I can reveal to you the new and on-its-way to being improved leg. . .

Gone is the crater and the stretched out scar. What remains is just a line, a dried bloody line (excuse me while I take a moment and insert my ears between my knees for a second). . .

Whew. . . ok, back.

I would guesstimate that my flexion is better today. I was able to hang out on the side of my bed this morning and touch my heel to the bed this time without too much agony. Getting much beyond that right now is tough, but I'm working through the pain, which has pretty much been my life for 2.5 years now.

Mr. BBM made the mistake of zooming in on the above picture to make sure it was in focus and showed me the result. "Extreme close-up!" he said and I instantly broke out into a serious sweat all over again, and had to get horizontal for a minute.

The bottom of the scar looks great. The top is a little yucky still but I'm hoping it will eventually close up and feel ok. It's weird to have a cushion there where one didn't exist before. It's a bit bruised and still uncomfortable, in places where I didn't even imagine I'd be uncomfortable, like on the other side of my tibia where I am uber-sore; but I'm getting there. I'm really getting there (if I can just manage to not look at it until it's completely healed and not gross-out worthy).