Battle Marks … Scars Define How We Lived Our Lives

“Give credit where credit is due”

The words my doctor, let’s call him Dr. G, told me praising my perfectly healed surgical wounds. According to him because he took my crazy stitches out early, the wound healed according to how he wants it. Since he didn’t do my surgery, it was done in another place by another doctor; he had no control how my wounds were closed. That was the best he could do so I don’t end up with ugly scars.

Just so you know …

The one I showed you in the Happy Scar post is found on the inner side of my ankle. I had pins and wires inside used to attach my bones, and I have a smiling scar to remind me of that. The other one is on the outer side of my leg; it’s as straight as it could be. My therapist even said it looks like a vein only it is outside. I had a metal plate inside to attach them securely and take up some of the load when I started putting weight on my leg. I plan to have it tattooed with leaves and sunflower to match my smiley one.

I arrived home one week after I had my surgery in Tunisia. The doctors there did a wonderful job of fixing my bones and closing my wound with very tight stitches according to Dr. G.

I had extra wounds too, but they didn’t need stitching and again not necessary according to Dr. G. Those extra wounds were from the drain tubes they attached and kept for several days after the surgery, that’s why I had the dimples in my smiley scar.

So after I was seen by Dr. G, in the emergency room two days after I arrived from my 24-hour journey, he declared he would take out my stitches in one week or two the most to promote faster healing and for me to end up with nice looking scars.

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Dr. G taking my stitches out

Two weeks later, I am out of it, and with little TLC, the wound finally closed, the last dead skin fell off, and I am left with shiny new scars — my new battle marks!

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I am not new to accidents while away for work. I guess it’s part of the deal when you accept to live alone and do everything yourself. But most of my accidents were injuries from the kitchen — nothing traumatic and obviously not life-threatening. Like when one time I was baking and the hot baking dish landed on my thigh, and I developed an unsightly and very painful second-degree burn. Or when I accidentally cut off the top part of my nail because I was pretending, I can do what professional chefs do when cutting onions. I thought I lost part of my finger when I saw the blood. Good thing the nail grew back.

Whatever happen scar doesn’t just appear. All wounds heal if we take care of it and it can leave a beautiful mark. But if we don’t, it will fester until it gets out of control, it will leave an ugly mark.

Whatever mark was left, it is there because something significant happened, a mark giving us a choice to not do it again or to continue to be strong. It is there as a reminder that we are vulnerable, that anything can happen and we will have something to show for it.

Like in life.

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Happy Scar

Must be wondering what happened to me since my last post Am I Lucky at 7?.

Well, my doctor gave me more thumbs up.๐Ÿ‘๐Ÿ‘๐Ÿ‘๐Ÿ‘๐Ÿ‘๐Ÿ‘Œ It means my bones have completely healed and I graduated from partial weight to full weight bearing when standing, walking and even climbing stairs. It was a natural high, I was elated until I crawled back under the rock and stopped doing exercises at home.

While my physical healing is improving every day, my emotions are like a roller coaster. Most of the time I stay at the base than up there looking at the blue skies and happily shouting coming down.

I am still trying to figure out why I am having delayed psychological reaction to my accident … maybe it’s not even delayed, it is just manifesting now. I have no answers yet.

When I do I will let you in my discoveries … watch out!

For the meantime, I am taking advantage of the high and blogging and taking a cue from my smiley scar.

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At least my scar is always smiling

I went to bed happy.

The last thing I did was publish my last post and turned off the lights. I guess I was tired because most nights I don’t sleep before the witching hour of 3 am the following day so sleeping before midnight was a real treat! But whatever time I went to la la land I always wake up the same time, before the rooster even which tells me I must be getting old ๐Ÿ˜„. Who cares anyway? Definitely not me!

Anyway, fully awake now I checked my phone and saw the little WordPress, WhatsApp and Facebook icon giving notice that people actually read my post. Well the WhatsApp message was something else but I am pleased with who I saw, and read and I liked them. Especially in Facebook because these are people that I personally know and knows me back.

The first three women who liked my FB post are the three women that I admire myself.

We encountered life and work together and actually a fourth even reached out to me privately when I posted my poem Falling In The Cracks. She offered to listen but all I could reply was “Thanks Amel” because I know even without telling she knows what I am feeling.

Then I saw this quote fitting tribute to the friends I made over the years.

It is not really the number of friend you have that matters its the quality and the bonds you made together.

It doesn’t matter how often you see or talk to each other its the feeling that you know they are there no matter what.

There is always that invisible tie that binds friends together and its truly great to know that the binds are made of gold thread that is priceless like that of families.

Shout out to my friends ๐Ÿ”Š You know who you are!

Lets to friendship! Even virtually

Am I Lucky at 7?

I’m at my ortho doctor’s clinic waiting for him to arrive for my first appointment and maybe my last during this month – the fourth month since my accident.

I came home after I was released by my attending orthopaedic doctor from La Marsa private hospital. I stayed a week after my surgery. And anticipating my need for full time care my organisation, and I decided to evacuate me back here. One week after being hospitalised I was cleared to travel with so much precaution, and class except I cannot enjoy the perks of a business class traveller when you’re nursing a cast leg and in blood thinners especially if your airline has good wine selections ๐Ÿพ๐Ÿท๐Ÿน

So arriving after travelling 10,000 kilometres for 24 hours the reality of being disabled was sinking in. The local representatives of my insurance were in my case and scheduled me at the end of the week for a consult. The paranoid in me felt that I need to see the doctor immediately. Complaining of pain and thinking that my toes were turning blue. So instead of Saturday, I went to the emergency room three days prior only to be told my blood circulation was healthy and my pain was nothing to be worried about. My doctor just looked at my leg inspected the sutures and gush at how meticulously it was done and prescribed iron supplement and removed the blood thinner drugs. Then I was sent home. Uneventful ๐Ÿ˜„.

From then to now I wonder what will be the news … I am feeling lucky at my 7th visit to my doctor … that is if he arrives.

I am patiently waiting โณ

My Road to Recovery Is Bumpy, Now that I Am Thinking of It

โ€œWalk on your own yellow brick road. If you canโ€™t find one, spray paint your way into happiness. If that doesnโ€™t work, buy yellow shoes.โ€
โ€• Sadiqua Hamdan, Happy Am I. Holy Am I. Healthy Am I.

Entering the fourth month of my recovery means that I am almost there. In fact, according to the textbook, I am past the 3-month bone healing process, I should be on my way to walking independently until fully recovered

My last radiographic imaging showed that my bones were healing well. They were aligned perfectly, and my doctor gave me very positive commendation on how much progress I am making. He might just see me once a month instead of two, and that is a good sign, right?

When I say fully recovered means, more flexibility in my left ankle and no more swelling. But I still have both and yesterday when I attended my therapy session it made me appreciate more the small changes I observed in me.

In the last months, I suffered what you will call “psychological breakdown”. Nothing serious where I need to seek professional help, I guess living with my family helps breaks my downward plunge but then if I am alone I am not able to do anything productive except maybe read a lot of books and start this blog.

It happened when I thought I made a mistake in my attempt to recover early. I told you I am my own worst patient and I didn’t follow my own prescription and pushed myself too much. When I was not entirely satisfied with my therapy sessions, not getting good results, I increased my home treatment.

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One day I started to feel pain when stepping on my left foot and attempted walking, I thought I was just tired and iced it. It didn’t improve with ice and rest, even when I put on my aircast, I still felt pain when I put my foot down. Got more worried when I was not able to do proper gait training during my therapy session because of pain. I reported to my doctor, anticipating I made my situation worst and all knowledge and reasons I know are thrown out of the window!

No, it was brought on by me still walking on partial weight bearing, and my forefoot and longitudinal arch are tight. All my doctor did was stretch it, it was painful but it helped as if I didn’t have pain after all.

With that painful episode, it became a trigger for me to be getting down and worried, thinking about how pathetic my life is and replaying how I came to be in this situation. I noticed a trigger … the thought of work, of some name or words related to my life before the accident triggered these melancholic episodes that made me dive in and swim in “self-pity”. I wrote about it in my other blog Bouts of frustrations, boredom and a little bit of self-pity

So what now?

I am trying to crawl back out. To get back into looking at what I needed to do and finish what needs to be done soon.

My spirit actually lifted because of 4 degrees increased in my dorsiflexion. It means that I have 6 more degrees to go to reach the full range of 20. That motivates me to be more positive and do more careful exercises at home not that I also decreased my therapy sessions. I am trying again to be the good patient as I could be.

Additionally, I decided its time to be functionally independent in self-care. It means I am doing it alone overcoming the fear of slipping again and planning on my new shower routine without breaking my bones. That’s for another blog.๐Ÿ˜‰