A Year In Pictures

It's hard not to feel frustrated knowing that today marks a year from my accident. It's hard not to focus on all the things I can't do yet. But, when I sit down and think about everything I got through it's hard not to feel proud.

With that, I made "the year later post" made up of pictures. Because if I look at through pictures and all the steps I have made it through it's so me easier to view it as something i've overcome rather than something that's getting in my way.

Valentines Day 2012, I went to Megans to bake Frank cookies. 

The cookies, minutes before they we're splattered all over York Ave.

From Boston to New York in the middle of the night, Frank made it to the hospital as well as with my parents. 

Surgery 1: The external fixater, a stabilization device. Metal rods attached to my knee and heel.

I was home with that thing for a week! Luckily, I was too drugged to realize what was even going on. 

Surgery two: 3 plates, 21 secrew. Couldn't they just give me a cast?

Ouch, this new metal leg REALLY hurts.

First form of protection, a soft cast.

3 weeks after the accident.. 31 stitches

Hey wait, I'm tugging on my ankle as hard as I can and it won't move.. at all. Not even a cm. No one prepared me for that.

Weeks later.. upright and standing. With a little help. 

-10 pounds later..

First bite.. Carbo loading 

Stitch wounds, trying to heal. Lots of neosporan..

After I had the realization I wouldn't be getting off these things for half a year, I decided to style them up. Crutch purse, most brilliant invention. 

This is what I like to call "the crank" also known as a torture devise. 30 minutes a session, 3 times a day x4 months. How I got my motion back..

First workout. And the wonderful boot.

3 months later.. The aircast. And some sneakers to go along with my new crutch walk 

My official Boston Marathon time. HA

Surgery 3..:"the removal of hardware"

A break through my empty screwhole. MY WORST NIGHTMARE. devastating.

10 month later, Recovery Party

11 months later.. My first night in heels 

Today... My body.. My biography.

When things are really hard, sometimes you just get through it without even thinking about what happened. Now that I am mentally and physically OK I can actually sit back and think about everything that happened. HOLY SHIT. 

Thank god for my wonderful parents, family, boyfriend, and friends. I could not have done it without them. When I got off the tred mill today, after finishing 3 miles at a 7:45 pace,  I thanked god for my drive, too. 

Dedicated to: Dr. Dean Lorich, my very attractive doctor, who i've spent way too much time with and "is sick of seeing me" but managed to piece my shattered ankle back together. Best orthopedic surgeon out there. Gotta love this guy.

A Very Happy New Year

              On December 19^th, over 10 months after the accident, my physical therapist cleared me to “run.” She said I could run for 5-10 minutes but had to trust myself and listen to my body (we all know how good I am at that).  While this was the best Christmas gift anyone could have given me, I was terrified. I knew it would be painful and mentally challenging. Before I laced on my running shoes I waited a couple days. I waited till I had a day off from work, and I was at home on the safe roads of CT where I knew my course perfectly. I rested the day before I ran because I knew this would be painful and discouraging and a soar ankle from activity the day before would make it that much worse.

              I was right, the first run was BRUTAL. I ran for 7 minutes and literally watched the clock every minute. My foot, ankle, and knee throbbed every step. Not to mention I felt incredibly out of shape. Limping my way back to my house I wondered if running was really something I should ever do again. Was it really worth it? Bone was healed, motion and flexibility were intact, and it was still a miserable experience.

         2 weeks later, I am able to run 2 miles.. no pain, no limp.  I’ve discovered through trial and error the importance of speed walking prior to running and fixing my stride.  So this excitement, endorphins, and passion has obviously made sit down and create a training plan so I can cross the 2013 Boston Marathon finish line. Yet, I am completely aware that is setting extremely high expectations.

         As my dad reminded me this Christmas, he was “so happy just to have me at Christmas, alive and well.” During New Years Frank admitted “I spent that last year questioning if you would be able to ever live a normal life again. I wanted so badly for you just to do day to day things without pain. What you did and how well you're doing after splitting you leg in 4 different places is almost a miracle.” With that, my new years resolution this year will be to make sure I am able to stop when it's too much. And remind myself just how lucky I am that I can live everyday without any pain. If running and training for the marathon stops me from living my life pain free, it won’t be worth it.

2012 hit me hard for a reason. It taught me to just be thankful for everything that I am able to do and everyone I have. But most importantly, it taught me when to stop. It taught me when to say to myself  “Sarah, that enough now, if you continue it won’t do you any good.”  But luckily, I don't need to say that yet. And if I keep on keeping on, I’ll see you at the finish line. 







What it takes to writer submission guidelines with runners world

Here... Take Your Life Back.

            Every single time I go to the doctors they hand me this stupid 10 page survey to fill out. Theres about 100 questions about my range of motion, pain, and activitly level.  And then you turn to the last page and they stop asking you about your injury and instead your emotion state. Clearly, they are trying to collect data about traumatic injuries effecting emotional state. Unfortunately every time I have to honestly admit and remind myself I haven’t been as happy or as they put it “peppy” since the accident.

       On Monday, November 12^th everything changed. I was prepared to hear “Sarah, like I predicted, we need to operate on Thursday and put a permanent plate in your leg.” Here’s how that translates in my life, probably would have to drop my NYU classes and start them again next semester, another 2 weeks of from work, weeks of pain killers, hospital rooms, and puking, and last but certainly not least, pain if I ever choose to run again. Awesome, a perfect diagnosis for success, happiness, and what they would call “pep,” In preparation for this I had not made Thanksgiving, Christmas, or any plans. When my friends would text me about the holidays and my plans I just wouldn’t respond, because I really didn’t know what to say. When my boyfriend tried to plan a trip for the holidays, I pushed back because who knew what state I would be in or what I would be able to do.

    Instead, what my doctor saw was what he considered “A HEALED BONE.”  Which means “if you don’t mess this up by running again, we won’t have to operate and in no time you will be free to run and do anything you would like”  (at this point I probably should have punched him because he was blaming me for rebraking my ankle, but  let’s focus on the positive)

         Ok, so if you look at the XRAY you are probably thinking the same thing as me—That doesn’t look healed at all. Well, you’re right. It’s actually not completely healed, but according to a surgeon it is close enough to healed that surgery is not the right choice and it will heal on its own. So the slight pain I have is nothing to worry about and will go away with time. It’s actually the best news he could have possibly given me.  And with that explanation, I swear he placed my life back into my hands. No, I can’t do everything I want yet. but who the fuck cares? I WILL BE ABLE TO. Even now, from this partial healing I can bike (30 miles!), go out, use the subway, and celebrate Thankgiving without being drugged on pain meds. I may even pass my classes.

         I spent this weekend just living my life like any other person but with a little extra celebration of the great news. And let me tell you – I most certainly had my “pep” back. 

A Non Unison Bone

HOW TO FORCE A NON UNISON BONE TO TURN INTO ONE COMPLETE BONE

(incase you ever have a bone that decides to stop growing)

  1)   After your doctor tells you have one, google what it is.

  2)   Accept that you have a very small chance of actually growing your bone together yourself without surgery. 

  3)   Decide you’ll try anyway.

  4)   Beg your doctor to give your bone a little more time before he actually declares it “dead” 

  5)   Take 3 doses of calcium a day (yeah, a grandma osteoporosis dosage)

   6)   Swim

  7) Water aerobics (while I’m there I can compare calcium dosages with the other grandmas)

   8)    take cabs when it swells

  9)   Walk on FLAT surfaces in flat shoes

  10)    Take elevators 

  11)  Rest, calm down, and accept that you can’t be as active as you used/want to be.

  12)  Accept who and where you are right now.

  13)   Don’t run (or bike or elyptical, or jump, or lunge, or anything else that would possibly create any endorphins)

  14)    Wait.   

  15)     Try on a thing called patience. It might look good on you.

According to the doctor today, in 6 weeks if my bone is still separated I’ll be back in the hospital with a metal plate in my leg for thanksgiving. In which case, I’m sure I’ll find something to be thankful for. I always do, right? 

Adjustment

I’ve learned something very interesting through out all of this. Something I am not sure I would have realized before.

With time, human beings are able to adjust.

7 months ago having to deal with crutches and boots or aircasts seemed like a nightmare. Now it just feels normal.

7 months ago having to take a cab everywhere seemed pretty terrible. Now, I don’t even think about it.

7 months ago being kept awake by my pain in my ankle was depressing and tiring. Now, it’s just how I sleep.

7 months ago my scars on my leg felt out of place and embarrassing. Now, it’s just me. My biography. 

7 months ago having to go to PT 3 times a week was a huge pain in my ass. Now, it’s a community of friends.

There’s still one thing though… Every time I walk outside with my head phones in and gym clothes on my body tells me to turn right and start jogging down towards the east river. Everytime, without fail, my body and mind thinks that’s what I’m about to do. But it’s not. Instead I remind myself that I am going to go to the gym to try and find something I can do.

Not being able to take that right turn, press play on my shuffle, and jog to the east river does not feel normal. And I hope I never adjust. 

Bone Growth Party!

      On Friday afternoon I went back to the hospital for my 4^th Pre Op appointment. My fourth surgery was scheduled for Tuesday. My doctor handed me the papers to sign (again) and I handed them right back without a signature. I asked him to take another x-ray. To give it a second look because my leg really felt better. The swelling had gone down as well as the pain and bruising. He walked back in the room after checking the xray and said 

 “Sarah, forget surgery for now I think you’re growing this bone.”

I was so happy I jumped off the doctor’s bed onto my feet, pump fisted the air, and screamed in excitement. He emotionlessly told me to sit back down and reminded me that knowing my bones, jumping up and down would probably break them.

Long story short if I can cool my jets and sit still for the next month before my next doc appointment he thinks(hopes) my bone will have grown back and he can officially call off surgery. So, you can keep your fingers crossed for me and I will just sit here… patiently. Trust me, 7 months later I’ve developed enough patience for a lifetime.

My recovery party was scheduled for Saturday. While some told me to cancel it, I just decided to turn it into a bone growth party. What happened last night way pretty amazing. Friends and family traveled from all over to celebrate the last 7 months. It was without question the most fun I had since the accident.

      When taking a moment this evening to let it all sink  I felt like everything hit me all at once. Everything that has happened started to bring me to tears (yeah, this crying thing is literally a whole new me).  More than anything though, I think I was really crying because of everything everyone has 

 done for me. Through out this entire process so many people have done such extraordinary things in such different ways. I know if I need another surgery I will have amazing people around me to support me. I know if running isn’t in my future (which it will be) I will have so many people to fall back on. Everything that happened over the last 7 months is extreme and hard to deal with.  But what’s even more extreme knowing just how amazing and supportive the people in my life really are. More than I could have ever imagined before. And for that, I feel really lucky. 

             

One More Surgery???

So it seems as though I have gotten myself into a little predicament here. Unfortunately, this week I am faced with a pretty tough decision that feels like it will affect every step I take for the rest of my life.

The days after my surgery quickly passed. The days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months and I realized I wasn’t getting better. In fact I was getting much worse. It got to the point where I was not walking anywhere, was sending text to my loved ones say “THROBBING PAIN”,  and I was wishing I could take back my surgery. The surgery that was supposed to make me feel better. Of course, I decided this wasn’t normal and I needed to head back to my doctor.

My doctor took Xrays and Cat scans and the whole orderal. He found that the smaller bone in my ankle (fibula) rebroke without the support of the plates. This happened because apparently (news to me) it wasn’t fully healed when he took the plates out and so (even though I was cleared to do to these things) my weight from walking, biking, and running (once) rebroke the bone. 

So here are my options:

      

           A.     Wait it out. Use 1-2 crutches for a month or two and bare the pain. Hoping my bone will grow back on its own without a plate. 

         B.     Get surgery next week (sep 11) and get a small but permanent plate back into my ankle.

 Well, it’s really easier to be angry here and spend all day placing

blame on people. Whose fault is it that my bone rebroke? I can replay everything I did and everything my doctor said over and over in my head if that’s what I choose to do. But, what good what that do? Would blaming my doctor make me feel better? No. Would blaming myself make me feel better? Definitely not.

Life is life and shit happens. You can’t predict or control what will happen next. One minute your catching a cab home and the next thing you know you and your life is upside down. All you can do is get through it the best you can.  If I wait it out and hope my bone will heal it will be ok. even if my bone doesn’t heal it will still be ok. If I have surgery next week to get a permanent plate that will also be ok.  And for now, ok is just going to have to be good enough. The day will come when this will all be behind me and I can look back and me be really proud of myself. But today is not that day. Not yet. And that’s ok too.