I had my latest in doctor's appointments today. The "look see" took longer than usual and was about 50/50 as far as results. My leg is still not healing as it should be. It is healing, but not in the time frame that is usual for a broken bone. My surgeon related what I call a "percussion break" meaning it wasn't a straight on hit that broke that bone, but rather the force that spread from the initial hit that chipped a piece off the inside of my ankle bone. But the force like a ripple effect broke the bone on the outside of the leg. That bone is the one that is causing issues. Back to where I was going, my surgeon related my percussion break to a crush injury for how hard it was to heal the thing.
My surgeon also said that if this very stubborn bone doesn't show more signs of healing that I may be looking at another surgery. *head to desk* Not what I really needed. He said that in a second surgery he would take a piece of bone from elsewhere "he didn't say where from" and use that piece to help the break heal. I am fervently hoping it doesn't come to that.
That was the bad news. The good news he did say I can start swimming, and as tolerated start putting weight on my injured leg this week, starting slowly, and moving towards bearing full weight on the leg at the end of two weeks. At which point when I can bear full weight I will make the decision about driving. Please, please, please I pray to all things above let me be able to drive and take my own life back.
People who haven't had a broken leg don't understand how hard it is and how much of your independent life you lose. I can't drive myself anywhere which means I have to be escorted to the grocery store, the clothing store, the bank, the feed store, and to work. I can't clean my house, I can't groom my horse, I can't walk my dog, I can't even do my own laundry. Totally SUCKS!
But onwards to happier things. I wrote in my last post that my beloved English Bull Terrier, Jasper, had passed away. I knew in my heart that I wanted another BT, but I knew I wasn't going to be ready for a new little bundle of furry energy for awhile. The quandry is Bull Terrier's don't grow on trees, good breeders are rare and the puppies are expensive. So even with my heart breaking I started looking for a breeder near me with a good reputation. But the problem of finding a breeder doesn't end there, not only did I have to find a breeder but one with a current litter or a litter to be born soon.
In a stroke of luck or divine doggy intervention the excellent breeder I found in Pennsylvania had a litter of puppies born the same week that Jasper passed away. My new fuzzy baby will be ready to come home with me in October but I will be meeting him in a few weeks. I am both very excited and meloncholy. I miss Jasper's jaunty strut to the kitchen when he thought a treat was on offer. I miss his "pet me now" eyes as laid his head on the couch. I miss his obsession with the sand at the beach and the water hose. I miss him terribly every day, and the new puppy could never fill the hole in my heart that Jasper left, but I know the new puppy "Agate, we name our Bull Terrier's after rocks because of their hard heads" will in the way of all sweet, fuzzy, four footed creatures will carve his own place in my heart.
My surgeon also said that if this very stubborn bone doesn't show more signs of healing that I may be looking at another surgery. *head to desk* Not what I really needed. He said that in a second surgery he would take a piece of bone from elsewhere "he didn't say where from" and use that piece to help the break heal. I am fervently hoping it doesn't come to that.
That was the bad news. The good news he did say I can start swimming, and as tolerated start putting weight on my injured leg this week, starting slowly, and moving towards bearing full weight on the leg at the end of two weeks. At which point when I can bear full weight I will make the decision about driving. Please, please, please I pray to all things above let me be able to drive and take my own life back.
People who haven't had a broken leg don't understand how hard it is and how much of your independent life you lose. I can't drive myself anywhere which means I have to be escorted to the grocery store, the clothing store, the bank, the feed store, and to work. I can't clean my house, I can't groom my horse, I can't walk my dog, I can't even do my own laundry. Totally SUCKS!
But onwards to happier things. I wrote in my last post that my beloved English Bull Terrier, Jasper, had passed away. I knew in my heart that I wanted another BT, but I knew I wasn't going to be ready for a new little bundle of furry energy for awhile. The quandry is Bull Terrier's don't grow on trees, good breeders are rare and the puppies are expensive. So even with my heart breaking I started looking for a breeder near me with a good reputation. But the problem of finding a breeder doesn't end there, not only did I have to find a breeder but one with a current litter or a litter to be born soon.
In a stroke of luck or divine doggy intervention the excellent breeder I found in Pennsylvania had a litter of puppies born the same week that Jasper passed away. My new fuzzy baby will be ready to come home with me in October but I will be meeting him in a few weeks. I am both very excited and meloncholy. I miss Jasper's jaunty strut to the kitchen when he thought a treat was on offer. I miss his "pet me now" eyes as laid his head on the couch. I miss his obsession with the sand at the beach and the water hose. I miss him terribly every day, and the new puppy could never fill the hole in my heart that Jasper left, but I know the new puppy "Agate, we name our Bull Terrier's after rocks because of their hard heads" will in the way of all sweet, fuzzy, four footed creatures will carve his own place in my heart.
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