I have broken a variety of bones in my life, this is the second time I can call it lucky.
The first was on Emma’s birthday in 2009. I did not know the door I was exiting through had a two foot drop, and stepped out while turning (probably to see someone warning me). I broke my left elbow and damaged a knee. I was placed on disability for three months. Right around Emma’s surgery. My right arm was still good and I could take care of her and be with her in the month before the surgery and help her with recovery. I also missed a public transportation strike.
This time is a longer story.
When I “had my accident” (the euphemism I use for breaking my brain) other parts of my body were damaged in the fall.
My right arm was obvious, my girlfriend who found me said it was “bent in a way arms are not supposed to be bent.” It was so bad I had to wait for parts. Two days later when the parts arrived, I had healed enough they didn’t need all of them. I have the nicest scar. When I extend my arm (which they told me I would never do again) there is a perfectly straight line from about two inches above my elbow to about two inches below it.
My brain was the main focus of attention. I had wonderful rehab, but they never promise you will be as you were. I visited a Neurologist who had no interest in the numbness in my foot, he just wanted to get me to take something for my Multiple Sclerosis. So I took Tysabri for a few months until it made me sick, like all the other meds I have taken for MS. Then when I moved to Pennsylvania a year later, I saw another Neurologist who had no interest in my foot, but wanted me to try the latest drug for MS. Neither asked about the Traumatic Brain Injury. This is part of why I don’t bother with Neurologists anymore.
I had physical rehab to work on my sense of balance and help my gait. They saw the difficulty I had walking and assigned it to my TBI. Months, years, passed; I just can’t move the toes on my foot, and the outer side is numb.
Then, as the quarantines started to lift Janice and I went to a party in Atlantic City. It was a Disco theme put on by Grown Folks Gatherings, a group for people over forty. Janice had a blast putting together our costumes.
We had planned to spend the night and were enjoying drinks when Janice asked me to dance. Nothing fancy, we both carry canes to walk, but we made our way to the dance floor. Janice managed to slam her cane onto my foot. It hurt. The next morning, along with the cute circular bruise, my toes weren’t all pointing in the same direction.
When we got home I taped the toes together and decided to wait before going to a doctor. After maybe a week it didn’t hurt, my toes all pointed the same direction, and I could move them! They were no longer numb.
I believe my foot was broken in my accident, and healed improperly, pinching a nerve. When Janice broke it, she freed up the fused bones and freed the nerve. No proof, but it certainly looks as if that is what happened. Someday I’ll have it X-Rayed, it will be interesting to see what’s in there.
It took Janice a bit to get used to me saying “Thank you for breaking my foot.” She had felt bad about it at first, but the foot wasn’t working properly before, there was no real damage to do.
We’ve been looking at some rather dark days recently, fires, floods, storms, the Delta variant, the fall of Kabul. I’m just happy to have my toes back.
KBlakeCash 