I like to think I'm fairly tough and can tolerate pain well. But wow, I think maybe this achilles issue is making me a wimp. I can't even WALK a mile without wanting to curl up in a little ball or at the very least, chop my foot off. No matter how much I ice it and stretch it and stay off of it (now that I know that's what I'm supposed to do- thanks ortho surgeon and our favorite chiropractor, Dr. O!), it STILL won't totally heal. Which really hampers my lifestyle, not to mention the plans I have for Hawaii...which is rapidly approaching (try less than 2 weeks on for size). So it NEEDS TO HEAL.
Well. I spent all last week stretching and icing and stretching and icing and again and again until I'm fairly sure that the thing is sufficiently stretched or at least numb for a couple of months due to the mass amounts of ice I've put on it.
Last weekend we decided that it would be ok (maybe even good for me!) to go to the dog park and walk around a bit to get it to loosen up. The doctors said that if I stretched, iced and rested for a while then the next step is to walk a bit to use it. So, FINALLY, after what seemed like forever, I decided, I should walk. A bit. At the dog park. Because it's part of the healing process. And it's awesome since I HATE being inactive. Hate it. And it lets the dog get some massive energy out- bonus!
Side note: we made this decision about the dog park after going to the dog store to get Bella a raincoat and fleece since we are entering our rainy/cold season and she doesn't have much fur to keep her warm. $150 later, we are on the way to the dog park, sort of in a state of shock. Because, SERIOUSLY. How are coats for DOGS $70?! I mean, it's a DOG. But everyone in there was giving us their opinion about how these two coats were the best. So she now has a pink raincoat and a pink fleece. That were $150. It's like gucci for dogs. Seriously ridiculous.
Anyway.
Well, three boxers at the dog park on Saturday had different ideas about how good of an idea it was for me to get out, including my puppy (probably the worst of them all). If anyone has ever been to an off leash dog park, you know that it's like Disneyland for dogs. THEY GO NUTS (understatement). And they usually pay no attention to anything but each other especially if they find a group of dogs that they get along with and play with. Well, boxers in particular seem to find each other and bond together to play. And they are BLIND when this starts to happen.
So we've been at the dog park for about 30-40 minutes when Bella finds a 6 month old boxer puppy that she decides she wants to dominate. Groan. We hate this behavior but Bella is in her "terrible teenage" years as we are calling it and is trying to exert her power over what she can (including us- she has been so rebellious lately. It's beyond annoying). So she starts to dominate this puppy. We of course intervene. But THEN! Yes, we're saved! Adult male boxer romps on over. HE puts Miss Bella in her place. Awesome! After he tells her what's up (and how she shouldn't beat up on little puppies and she actually gets it), the three of them start running around. And then....
BOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!!!
Ah.
Three boxers collided with my left leg. As I was trying to avoid getting in their way since I know they are ignorant when they're playing, I'm being gentle on my right achilles so I'm not exactly speedy in getting out of the way. And, therefore, my left leg gets left behind in their path of destruction. I am gripping my leg hopping around on my right foot (the foot with the torn achilles) so I am in double pain. I can't put my left foot on the ground because it hurts so freaking much and my achilles is then subsequently THROBBING, which I assume is its way of yelling at me to STOP putting pressure on it.
Fighting back tears, Tim helps me out of the dog park. And I never tear up when I'm hurt (I think this is how Tim knew it was not good). As the night goes on, my left leg turns all sorts of shades of black and blue and we realize that I have severely bruised the muscles internally on that leg (as well as external bruises, obviously). I literally could not straighten it out, could not walk on it. Seriously, the only good thing about this was that I forgot how bad my achilles hurt. The stupid leg hurt like HELL. I spent the next 2-3 days (with Tim home from work to help me) alternatively icing my bruised muscle left leg and my torn achilles right leg, all the while unable to walk on either. I couldn't use my left leg but if I used solely my right leg, uh, then I would make the achilles worse and remember my fear of the ruptured achilles? Yeah. So I was completely immobile for 2-3 days. Each day, I was able to use the left leg a little bit more and finally was able to hobble into work yesterday. But I'm still icing each leg. And stretching. And resting. And repeat. I have resigned myself to sitting on my ass until we leave for Hawaii.
It was totally a preview of myself in 70 years when I have to be carried to the bathroom to take a piss. Totally humbling. I am lucky that my sweet husband stayed with me to carry me around and help me stretch, ice, rest, rub muscles and repeat. And not like I ever really took my healthy legs for granted, but WOW. I cannot imagine not having legs. That sucked.
And, pictures of the terrible teenager in her new jacket (the fleece one). We've been breaking it out every morning since it's been freezing. She loves it. Haven't had to use the rain coat yet, surprisingly. I think she looks adorable in her new fleece and she's also very cuddly in it as well.
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