Under house arrest no more.

I have come to the conclusion that if I don't leave the house very much I really find myself with nothing to say. I'm not sure how many time I could have posted that I sat around the house all day playing video games before some sort of Internet Regulatory Committee for the Abolition of Boring Crap shuts me down for being boring and repetitive. So, there you have it. My last two weeks in a few sentences.

So, my biggest outing from the house was back to Santa Rosa for a post op appointment. I'm sure there are many who remember this:

The result of this operation:

So I was laid up and for two weeks and looking forward t getting off the crutches and moving on with life. And for the record, crutches suck. There is no way around it. Its all fine and dandy that places make sure they have a way for disabled people to get in and out of places, like stores and restaurants. But they do not seem to do much in the way making sure there is enough room, once you are actually inside, to actually move around without killing yourself. But I'm past that now.

So I made the trek down to Santa Rosa with my folks (my wife wouldn't let me drive while I was required to be on crutches). While I was waiting I noticed a few things around the room that seemed somewhat note-worthy.

I'm pretty sure this wall of tools was recently used in a horror movies involving teens on vacation in a foreign country, staying at a youth hostel where people were disappearing and suddenly deciding that a group shower would make everyone feel better (thank you late night cable for airing such fine cinema and making use of such admirable actors and actresses).

OK, enough about that silliness. Lets get to the foot.

So, the Doc had to make a nearly 2-1/2 inch incision because the joint was so messy. There is still a considerable amount of swelling and some bruising, but it was clean and healing nicely. The joint is still very stiff, and and hard to move. We decided that I should be able to work out this kink on my own, without the need for physical therapy. Last, he wanted to know if I wanted more pain killer. I told him I hadn't used any of the Norco because it made me sick. He then said getting a different pain killer was no problem, but I still turned him down. I'm ready to move on.

As for ankle, and I quote the doc here: (As he pulled out some x-ray films they had just taken) I'm really happy with the results, but there is nothing we can do to make your ankle look any better.

So, the joint looks like crap. I, at the age of 32, shouldn't have an ankle that looks like this. But its cleaner than it was. There is a still a large bone spur on the front of the foot. But, because it is below the ankle joint and rather uninvolved in the grand scheme of things, it was left there.

Now I have a fracture boot, and more streamlined and efficient model than one I have previously had.

So I am mobile now. I still have one more week off of work (hip-hip-hooray!) and then 2 weeks of light duty (boo, hiss! Light duties are looked at like challenged workers).

Today we, my parents and I, traveled the Mattole Road and they were introduced to the lost coast. Tonight we watched the V.P. Debate on CNN. One subject I will probably expand upon later, one I think will make a point of leaving out of my blog all together.

As always, thanks for tuning in. And for those who care, I'll make a point of checking in more often.