That I don't particularly care for, but is there all the same, passed this weekend.
Two years ago, on the first weekend in December, I dislocated my ankle on a night out. I was in an eighties club, spinning right round to "You Spin Me Round (Like A Record) by Dead or Alive. Only all of a sudden, I wasn't spinning any more, I was slamming into a wall. Ooops. Not thinking too much of it, I relocated it, spent the rest of the night sat down with some ice, then was helped to the cab to go home. Where I just ignored it and went to bed haha!
The next morning (afternoon... ssh), I got up and was bullied into going to A&E by many family members, who suspected a break. It was all shades of black purple and blue, and very swollen, which is quite unusual for me. I don't tend to swell much. So under protest, off I trotted. The doctor almost fell over when I told her that not only was I stone cold sober at the time I hurt it, I was also in flat shoes. "The unluckiest girl in the world", she said. The X-Ray showed no break (which is very unusual when an ankle dislocates. Unless you're a bendy!), but noting my previous history and the lack of stability, she referred me through to fracture clinic the next day and I was banned from weight bearing. By this point I knew exactly what was coming next...
Plastered, up to the knee. Just in time for Christmas. Perfect timing. Although the Plaster Room staff at my local hospital are bloody brilliant. They are so cheerful, and try to make the best of a bad situation for everyone. So my pretty pink plaster cast was absolutely smothered in glitter! It was as pretty an accessory as it could have been.
My follow up appointment after a few weeks in plaster was a very frustrating appointment, and it was only the fact that I stood my ground which meant a further follow up appointment was made. Unfortunately the clinic was very busy, and after another X-Ray I saw a different Doctor. Who was very unpleasant, refused to believe I had dislocated my ankle and was disgusted that they had wasted time putting me in plaster. He agreed to make a 6 week follow up, but was expecting me to not need it.
Needless to say, I did. I was then referred to the ankle surgeons for an urgent MRI scan, where they discovered that I had totally ruptured my ATFL. In your face, Dr who basically told me I was wasting their time and resources! By this time it was July. I was in surgery a week later. Unfortunately, the ligament was beyond repair, so a graft was taken from another piece of tissue.
I dutifully did everything I was told, did my physio exercises, but my ankle was still totally unstable. So much so, that when I put weight on it, my ankle bones were touching the floor. This has had a major effect on the rest of my body, and really was the first step on the downward spiral I have gone through with my EDS in the last two years. At my next follow up, I was referred for the radioactive scan, and it was established from those results that I would need a permanent orthotic, known as an AFO.
I have been using my AFO now for almost a month, and it is helping to stop my ankle running away. It tries to, but there is a big whack of zebra print plastic in the way stopping it. It is still painful, but there is a definite improvement in my frame walking, which is great!
So how did I decide to mark this anniversary? I was all set to go out for an evening with friends on Saturday, and then make my front room all festive and pretty on Sunday.
My body clearly had other ideas. I turned my head and kind of left my body behind (epic proprioception fail!), and my neck made a spectacular crunch. Instant agony, pressure in my head, dizziness when I move my neck and pain shooting into my shoulder. It triggered a migraine on Friday (interesting link made there!) which left me in tears. I hate crying about pain, it just grinds my gears. So bang went all my plans. I spent Saturday evening watching Pirates of The Caribbean with the Uberman instead, which was lovely. Sunday morning I was relegated to the sofa while everyone worked around me. That made me quite sad. I love arranging the ornaments in the cabinets, sorting out the fireplace and the garlands. I sat watching everyone else do it, and feeling thoroughly miserable and useless. My real domain though, is my Christmas Tree. I love doing the tree - for me, it is the one thing that means Christmas is on it's way. So I insisted I would be doing the tree. A chair was brought over, and although it took a lot longer than usual, my tree now looks pretty and twinkly. Huzzah!
So after all that exertion, and a night of very little sleep, I decided a visit to the GP was in order. Every muscle in my neck has gone into a big spasm, so I am now in the early stages of floating on a haze of muscle relaxants. Eep. As long as it helps them settle down, I will settle for being a zombie. I am also under strict orders that if there is any change in sensation or pain level, I go to A&E straight away. Bleh.
So yes. The first weekend in December is not my friend it would seem! However. The festive season has begun. For this reason, I am happy today even though health wise, things are pretty crappy.
In the battle of happy vs crappy, today's winner is happy.