Physiotherapy for Ankle Rehabilitation

11 weeks post operation,

5 weeks since cast removed

3 weeks since referral by GP

Hooray physio appointment !!

I found it really difficult to get information on appropriate rehabilitation methods on the internet so hopefully this will help anyone who happens by my blog:

Task 1 - Walking with one crutch

The trick to walking it seems is that walking slowly with one crutch is better than walking quicker without any but doing it badly.

1. Hold the crutch on the opposite side of the bad leg.


2. Put the crutch slightly in front of you


3. Step forward with your bad leg, putting your heel down first (as confidence grows you will start doing step one to three together so the crutch and your foot should hit the floor at the same time).


4. Follow through with your good leg


5. Repeat ensuring you use the full heel to toe motion (push of with your toes as you make the next step)

By holding the crutch on the opposite side you can take weight off of the injured side and better support yourself as you walk.

Task 2 - Walking up and down stairs with crutches

1. If you are going to walk or hop up the stairs, hold on to the rail with one hand and the crutch with the other.


2. Push on the rail and your crutch and step up on to the step with your good leg.


3. Bring your bad leg up on the step and then your crutch.


4. Coming down the stairs, swap your crutch in to the other hand.


5. Lower the crutch down on to the step, push on the rail and your crutch and then step down first with the bad leg and then with your good leg.


6. The crutch should always stay with the bad leg to support it.

Once you have completed your exercises you will need to carry out contrast bath therapy.

You will need one bowl of hot water (not too hot as to burn yourself), and one bowl of cold water (with ice cubes).

Place the injured foot in the hot water for one minute, then place it in the cold water for one minute.

repeat for a total of ten minutes.

It is not very nice by the way - but I am assured it works.

Gok Dolls

gok dolls, originally uploaded by Honouria.

Right ladies, where do you stand in the how to look good naked line up?

Hairy Mary - Hirsutism, hormones and laser hair removal

As mentioned in an earlier post I suffer from PCOS; a condition which all too often leaves me considering a career as a fairground attraction.

Roll up, roll up to view this amazing spectacle, the beast, the horror ... the bearded lady.

Ok, so I don't actually let the hair grow, I have a routine of plucking, sanding, shaving and laser hair removal. But I dread to think how I would look if I didn't spend half my life removing hair from my face, stomache, full legs, and bikini line (more a park than a path). The hair has got worse with age, and with weight gain. I never had hairy boobs until this last year, I swear my ex had less chest hair than me.

I started the laser journey about 9 months ago, I saved up some money and took the plunge 6 sessions for £375. I am having my upper lip and chin area from the neck to my lower lip treated. I am the ideal candidate according to the therapist, pale skinned and dark haired, however as the cause is hormonal I can't expect to remain hairless as new hairs will grow; but the old ones, of which there are many, should be obliterated.

I originally signed up for the 'painfree' laser. I would like to point out it still hurts, a bit like being stabbed with a pin over and over again. It has a bigger head than a traditional laser and doesn't get as hot. I think for large areas of hair it would be a good choice but the results were slow to show and as I was watching the prepaid sessions go down I was impatient.

I moved on to the traditional laser, this looks like a pen and has various settings which I have been working up as time goes, it can burn you leaving marks and blisters and it is incredibly painful. My session only takes 10 minutes and trust me that is long enough, but as the traditional laser gave better results, with more hairs falling out I stuck with it ... pride is painful as my mother always says.

For laser novices I will advise that it takes about 2 weeks for the hairs to fall out, so it looks like they are still growing after treatment. The odd one will fall out after a week with a bit of help but you shouldn't force them out.

I was quite happy with the results after 5 sessions, there was a lot less hair between treatments, it was never completely clear but more manageable.

Session 6 was less successful, there were some stubborn hairs which had managed to fight against the light after each session, despite being clearly in the growing stage. The therapist boosted the laser up again and I hoped that would be it, but by session 7 they were still there as were quite a few more - bother.

Session 7 took place the day before I broke my ankle so the hairs had 9 weeks of freedom, I don't think one hair fell out during that time and I was hairier than ever at 7 weeks, at that point I committed laser treatments cardinal sin, I plucked the little bleeders out!! knowing I had an appointment two weeks later I left some so there was something to work on altough the way my hair grows I knew that there would be plenty to go at.

I await the results of session 8. I have a theory that the recent growth is a bit like a winter coat, and hopefully after this last treatment they won't be rearing their ugly black heads again!

Baby Broods

I would like to say that I have reached an age where I have learnt to be content with my lot; that I have an acceptance of what I can expect from life, but if I am honest, nothing quite quells the longing I have for a child. The odd thing is I didn't used to want children, they terrified me, I just didn't see myself as maternal.

Then I met someone who had children and the first time I saw him saying saying goodbye to them after we all spent an afternoon together something flickered inside me. Over the last seven years his children have became part of my life, and despite the tantrums, sulks and strops that accompany children as they grow that little flicker has grown.

When I held my god daughter the first time, breathing in that newborn baby smell, her tiny fingers clutching one of mine, that tiny flicker became a glowing orb deep in my stomach. I am embarrassed to admit that leaving the house that evening I burst into tears, I sobbed out loud with some kind of primitive female emotion, I can't explain it but I felt so empty after giving that little baby back to her mother. 4 years on; there have been plenty of babies to hold, I haven't cried like that since, but with each cuddle I feel my heart being singed by the fire that is burning inside me.

I experience family life every time we have my partners kids; I love seeing them, I care about their welfare, I even love them, but I am not their mummy! I wouldn't ever try to be; they have one already, she does a good job and they love her. Those children whilst an important part of my life are not a substitute for a child of my own. They will never be 'my' children!

The problem is that I am 3o now, I suffer from Poly Cystic Ovary Syndrome, it took my parents 10 years to conceive before they had me and I am starting to feel that time is running out.

I have got to the point where I dread opening Facebook, if it isn't copies of scans, it's cute baby photos or news about funny things the little loves have said or done. Every week it seems another person breaks the exciting news that they are expecting, and more and more it is the second child. Even friends who said children were definitely not for them have started to have families of their own. Whilst I am delighted for each and every prospective mum and dad, I don't like the constant reminder of my own barren state.

However the worst thing of all, the one that really annoys me is the adverts that appear on my Facebook account - today it is 'fertility risk factors', and '100% free baby stuff' but I also regularly get 'Are you a mother? try new baby products for free'. My status might say I am engaged, it might reveal I am of child bearing age and female, but nowhere does it say I have or am intending to have children.

I work in Marketing I know why they do it, I know I fall into the target age and status with a high likelihood of being interested in the products they advertise, I target the very same groups for my job (I work in the early years sector - I am tortured by images of babies and toddlers everyday) but for me it just turns up the volume on the ticking of my hormonally challenged watch.

Will I ever have children? I just don't know. Would I like a break from baby mania? Yes please.

Choosing a celeb restaurant

Right, where to start. A google search; there seem to be a number of sites dedicated to table bookings for fancy restaurants, I have to admit whilst these are handy to look through I don't feel confident booking through a third party.

First problem I encounter is that nearly all the restaurants are in London, I like London but it is a long way to drive and trains are pricey, if I am going all that way it is going to be for more than a night; making an already expensive meal even more costly as I have to factor in transport and accommodation.

Might be worth seeing where else there is closer to home, inconclusive results - nothing much comes up.

OK, so I will try searching by chefs; Gordon Ramsey, Antony Worrall Thompson, Jamie Oliver, Ken Hom, Marcus Wareing, Michel Roux Jnr, Raymond Blanc among others... who on earth do I choose? I admit I don't know the names of all the chefs on TV and choosing one just because they are the most well known seems silly, so a quick search for celebrity chefs brings up BBC Food, which has a pretty good A to Z of chefs.

I find that pretty much all of the big names are London or Berkshire based, there are however a few chain type versions of restaurants particuarly interesting are Jamie's Italian and Brasserie Blanc.

I looked up Raymond Blanc's restaurant Le Manoir Aux Quat' Saisons it is so beautiful; from the stunning period building and walled gardens to the delicate piles and twists of food on the plates but at £135 a head I think I might have to pass, no matter how many michelin stars he has I can't afford to spend that on food. Maybe I can get a hint of the experience by going to the significantly cheaper Brasserie Blanc, still a step up from the local pub but not going to bankrupt me. Problem is it still feels like a bit of a cop out, the whole point is to challenge myself so I need to find somewhere between the two!!

Eat at a Celebrity Restaurant

OK, its nearly March and I haven't started on the list yet. I figure that a lot of the things are still going to be difficult but I am determined to start living my life again.

Challenge One - Eat at a celebrity restaurant.

I know what you are thinking: How is that difficult? well honestly it isn't, but then most things on my list wouldn't phase most people, but I am a complete scaredy cat, chicken shit, nervous freak!

What could possibly scare me about a meal out?

1. What to wear? Since I am at least 4 stone overweight I never feel confident in anything, I know I could look better if I was thinner, so I put off going out anywhere never mind somewhere classy and expensive. Then there is the whole how dressy should I look; smart casual or dinner dress, the latest fashion or classic elegance?

2. Etiquette. Call for a reservation or not? Wait for a table or take a seat? Order at the counter/bar or from a waiter? Wine testing? Finding the toilet. Tipping. It's a minefield of things that could go wrong.

3. Cost. OK not really a fear, but when you are counting every penny (aren't we all?) and have been for 6 years, deciding to spend it feels risky; have you seen the prices at some of these places? And what if something happens and I need the money and its gone?

So there are good reasons for it being on my list. I am not just doing it because it might be fun and I have never done it before.

The next thing is to decide where to go?

Preparing for work

Tomorrow is a big day.

I am officially back to work, I am however working from home - this is a new thing for me, clearly I am going to need to set myself up in such a way that I can concentrate and avoid distractions, including the joys of daytime TV. I am also going to have to get up a lot earlier. Weeks of having nothing to do have given me no reason to get out of bed before lunch time; I know its disgustingly lazy but what can I say!!

I also have to contend with poor quality IT equipment, a laptop without wifi connection - what's the point of that!! I know from trying it out when I first injured myself that the speed is going to be an issue, I work in Marketing and spend a great deal of time sending large image and graphic files between clients and designers. The last image I sent took me over an hour and it was only 1MB. I have a few easy jobs to start on tomorrow so it shouldn't be too much of a culture shock, luckily none of them require me to send any artwork.

Update on the ankle - still walking with a limp, seem to be putting all my weight on the inside of the foot which hurts my heel, keep trying to distribute it properly but it just feels wrong. My leg goes a fetching shade of purple when I stand still for too long - it comes back to normal when I sit down so I don't think it is much to worry about (or is it?) I still need crutches when I leave the house, and even using them my leg starts to hurt after about ten minutes walking.

I really hope Physio will help, I was never the fittest person in the world but I want to get back to normal. Roll on next Monday.

Christmas in a Cast

My festive shopping was interrupted by my lack of mobility. I couldn't hop up or down steps on my crutches (fear of over doing it and not being allowed to put my foot down was a real mental hurdle that I couldn't overcome). I was going up and down the stairs on my bum - limited to one journey each way in a day. I couldn't carry anything and spent most of my time in bed or sat with my leg up.

I really missed the 'feeling' of Christmas, the last minute shopping, buying and decorating the tree, visiting friends and relatives. I wasn't sat at home alone as I am staying at my parents who are retired, have a downstairs loo and kindly offered to look after me.

Now you would think being waited on hand and foot would be a blessing, but in reality its a chore, you feel guilty for asking too often, angry at having to repeat yourself and embarrassed asking for help with things of a personal nature.

The worst thing was not having a bath or a shower, I spent six weeks getting washed sat on the loo seat, and having my hair washed with my head hanging over the arm of the sofa, while mum tried not to drown me or the floor.

I managed to keep in good spirits throughout the festive period, the pain was bearable with the help of Paracetamol and Tramadol and I got used to watching daytime TV: Why is it all retail and antiques by the way??

Pink Cast with 'toe' sock

After three weeks I went back to the hospital where they replaced my cast with a light weight bright pink one, my foot had to be pushed up to 90 degrees in the new cast, which took two people and a lot of grimacing on my part. Another 3 weeks no weight bearing. The first few days in the new cast were really painful as were the last week or so in the previous, I suspect this is because the pot is too tight or too lose on the leg.

Finally after 6 weeks I was freed from the plaster and without so much as a support bandage sent on my way. I wasn't even sent for physio - I have to admit how disappointed I am by the NHS outpatient care at Huddersfield RI, it seems obvious to me after dislocating your ankle, breaking both leg bones, and not putting your leg down for 6 weeks that walking is not going to just happen.

So after another 2 weeks off work, despite progressing to putting some weight on my leg and using crutches for support, I felt like things were just taking too long, and fear of doing something wrong meant I wasn't sure how hard to push myself.

I went to the GP who was very sympathetic and referred me to physio, checked I had enough pain medication and gave me another 2 weeks off work (she said if I wanted any more to ring up and she would send me a new note in the post - that is more like the service I expect from the NHS).

I am half way through that period now and I have made some progress on my own: I have managed to walk a few very slow and unsteady steps without crutches in the house; yesterday I managed to go up the house steps on crutches instead of my bum. Going down is still too scary, brings back horrific memories of the original fall.

I do wonder whether you should be offered some kind of mental therapy after an accident like this, to make you overcome the barriers you build to 'protect' yourself from a repeat incident.

I went into work today for a meeting, had to get a lift 'cause I can't drive. I am now sat with my leg up trying not to complain too much about the sharp stinging pain and dull aching throb that is surrounding my ankle and lower leg - I am annoyed at this set back as I didn't walk that far, I was using crutches all day and I avoided steps.

I am off to bed now with some painkillers, think I will be using the bum method tonight !

Breaking My Ankle - The Story

8 weeks post surgery. I have read quite a few blogs and forums about broken ankles in recent weeks. The only really consistent thing between them seems to be the huge impact being incapacitated has on lives. I figured I might as well share my experience here as well.

On Friday 10 December, I went out with friends in Huddersfield to celebrate my Birthday and Christmas in one go. Leaving work at lunch time two of us shared a pot of mulled wine (I had less than half ) then we all went for a late lunch at a cafe where we met a colleague and her baby and had a natter over a sarnie and a cuppa. After saying goodbye to those who weren't drinking, the remaining revelers went on to a bar, we spent half an hour avoiding a very drunk man, by moving from seat to seat before giving up and leaving after one bottle of lager.

We then went back to our favourite coffee bar and I had a pint, as it was my birthday I followed this with a Long Island Ice Tea. I nipped upstairs for a wee and after reapplying my lipstick headed down the spiral staircase to rejoin my friends. This is where it gets hazy, one minute I was nearly at the bottom of the stairs the next I hear a loud crack and feel myself flying through the air, I land on the floor and instantly know my ankle is broken. My leg is straight in front of me but my ankle is hanging to the side. It could be the alcohol or shock, but its no more painful than a bad sprain, which I have had on plenty of occasions ( I have notoriously weak ankles) thats not saying it isn't agony and there is no way I am standing on it - my foot does not belong at that angle. A man whose face I never saw held me up while we waited for an ambulance, someone got my friends from outside and they called my other half.

What seemed ages but was probably only minutes passed before I found myself in the ambulance where my brand new boots (flat not heeled) and the tights I had on under my jeans (it was freezing and I am soft) were cut off my leg revealing the hideously misshapen ankle in all its glory, my blood pressure was really low so they gave me gas and air to help with pain relief, which was still pretty bad, as I had been drinking the paramedic wouldn't give me morphine. I remember sucking on the gas whilst closing my eyes and trying to block out the pain as the ambulance whizzed through the streets with sirens blaring. The experience was a bit strange, I went into some kind of zone where everything went really quiet, I could hear people but it was like I was in a deep hole or underwater.

At the hospital I was talking a lot and laughing. The ambulance man who was very kind and didn't make me feel at all silly said it was the gas; which by then was my new best friend - I certainly missed it when they took it off me.

My friends arrived having followed in a taxi, they made me laugh, keeping my mind off the pain, which was growing now that the shock, alcohol and gas were wearing off. After examination and X-ray the doctor explained it was dislocated and I had broken two bones - and shook his head saying I couldn't have done a worse job if I tried, my ankle was essentially shattered. I was told I would need an operation to fix it and I would be staying in hospital overnight, they would try and operate the next day if the swelling reduced and a theater space opened up.

A noisy night in hospital (snoring and beeping beds), my first experience of a bed pan and lots of drugs followed. I awoke to find a room where I was the youngest by at least 30 years, despite this the staff and other patients were lovely and made me feel welcome.

My operation took place late that afternoon, I opted for a general anesthetic I didn't fancy someone jabbing a needle in my back. It went well and 3 days later I was released with a half leg cast and an instruction to put no weight on it whatsoever. What a way to spend Christmas!!!

next installment to follow...