Cast Off Day
In November 5, 2001, in Dodgeville, Wisconsin, I tore my achilles playing basketball. It was the worst injury I've had in my life. It took a while to diagnose; the doctor in Dodgeville told me it was "severely contused" and that I should stay off of it - I even had to ask him to prescribe crutches so I could get them from the drug store. After walking with a limp for a month I saw my doctor in California who immediately referred me to a Orthopedic office where I was finally diagnosed.
My surgery was on January 31, 2002, after which I convalesced in my tiny Whittier apartment for a month. Initially I had a soft cast, only slightly more than a tight ankle wrap, because my heel was swelling excessively as a result of the operation. A few weeks later, I had a hard cast.
The experience was an awful one not only because I didn't know if I would ever walk1 (let alone play basketball) again, but because I needed help with everything. Anyone who has been on crutches knows that even simple things like getting a drink are a challenge2. Walking and carrying something, say groceries, is a problem. Even at my highest point of conditioning on the crutches, the furthest I could go was about a mile. And in my case I'd torn my right achilles which meant that even driving would be a problem3.
As bad as it was, however, I learned a lot from it. I learned how to be helpless and rely on others. I was constantly amazed by people who would help me: coming to the hospital, bringing food, buying pillows, holding doors open, or carrying my luggage. I learned how slow is faster: for a long time I'd always have to wait for everyone else to clear out before I'd try to move in the movie theatre, on an airplane, in a restaurant, or any other crowded place. I learned to accept stares although I never got over having to get a wheelchair ride in airports that were too large for me to use my crutches to cross. I learned what taxes are for; I had to get disability from the state because I couldn't travel or work for a month.
It's strange to be in South Dakota where this history is so muffled: no one here saw me go through my struggle with my achilles - they see me "as is" without knowing what is, for me, a huge before and after. From that day in November until well into summer, there wasn't a waking moment in which I wasn't reminded of what it meant to walk normally. I can only describe it as being seen without your ears or nose; some vital part of you without which your whole doesn't make sense.
I'll never forget the day my hard cast was removed: April 16, 2002. I'd been told when it was put on that I shouldn't put anything inside it to scratch but by the end I'd twisted a hanger like everyone else does to reach between the plaster and dead skin for a few moments of reprieve from the agony of constant itch. I won't forget coming home and immediately running the shower - and rubbing, scratching, and scraping. Soap on the skin with water has never felt better; the feeling was exquisite.
I use my Cast Off Day to do normal things that I couldn't: I get a drink for myself. I think about how easy driving is with my right foot. I carry things. I use it to remember the people who helped me and to slow down a bit. I use it to remember the bleak moments: waiting in the Orthopedic office and watching people who were even worse off than I was, watching a man slowly open and close his fist while I was in physical therapy, lying on my stomach and waiting for the doctor to do his whirlwind two minute examination before shooing me off. Although the ache in my heel will never go away, my life with an achilles will never be what it was without one.
1The reason I didn't have to go to the doctor immediately was because it was a partial tear. My achilles repair surgery was so long after the initial tear that the surgeon would not guarantee I'd be "normal" after it was complete.
2To hold a cup you have to lose a crutch. If you hop, you'll spill. The perfect solution is Capri Sun, just in case you find yourself in that miserable position.
3Before my surgery, I practiced driving with my left foot. By the time I had my cast taken off, I was so used to it that it was more comfortable than using my right. This was especially useful since Cast Off Day really just meant my foot went in a big prosthetic boot, as opposed to being free.
10:15:20 PM 
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