Blog 7

A Scar Forever

            Okay, this bright light is blinding me right now. I hear the technician yell from the closed door, “Don’t Move,” as I’m lying there still as a cat, I guess somehow holding my breath. The room was small with a huge beige machine over to what appeared to be an operating table; which I was lying on. The machine made a loud noise, a familiar sound at least. It sounded like one of those old camera’s that in order to take a picture you had to press a button with a long cord attached to it and it would make a loud snapping sound. After hearing that sound that was when you knew the picture was taken. This machine made that exact sound, but with this blinding light instead of a flash.

            The technician comes out, help’s me sit up on the table and tells me to wait as he puts up the X-Ray pictures up on this white board. When he turned on the back light of this board, the picture showed my ankle in a way I couldn't believe what I was seeing. I began to realize that this was more serious than what I thought it would be.

            The gym was this big open space with markings of our high school mascot around each wall. Gym was always’ my least favorite class, especially since I had it first thing early in the morning. The routine would be the same for every class, we would change and then head into the gym floor to our assigned seating. On this particular day my gym teacher was absent, so all we had to do was join one of the other three classes that were being held the same time as my class and just stretch our muscles for a bit then do activities if we wanted to. I wasn't in the mood to do any gym activities, I’m really bad at sports and I always believed that I am prone to fall, trip or even get hurt while doing any activity. I decided to sit up against the wall with a friend and a couple of other girls. There were these two guys, maybe they were freshman’s playing basketball in front of the basket that was towards the wall that we were all sitting against. One of them decided to scare one of the girls, throwing the ball above her head against the wall we were all by. I began paying attention to people playing volleyball on the other side. The two guys were called on by one of the gym teachers to stop horsing around. But I guess that went in one ear and went out the other because they kept pushing each other. One pushed the other guy so hard that he tripped on something, maybe even someone’s foot and all of a sudden he falls on top of my foot.  “CRACK, “and pain radiated my entire leg.

            The orthopedic walks into the room, looks at my X-Ray pictures and say’s, “Yes, just what I thought, your ankle is broken.” I couldn't believe it, my poor ankle was broken, not just in one place, but it was broken in five places. The bone was sticking up almost penetrating my skin, missing by inches. The technician helps me up from the table and I crutch my way in the room, where my parents were waiting for me and the doctor. Just when I thought life couldn't get worse than this, this would change everything for me.

            The pain was unbearable, it hurt so much; it felt like knives stabbing my foot a thousand times. My first instinct was to grab my foot with my two hands, trying not to move, it hurt so much to move. I began crying because this was too much to bear, I cried for my friend’s help, I told her, “Please run to one of the teachers, I can’t move it, I can’t move my foot.” She ran to get help, Mr. Hopke came and asked if I could get up, but when I tried t, it hurt so much that it almost felt like my foot was dangling without any support of its own.

            “You need to have surgery, you need two pins in order for your bone to be back to normal,” said the orthopedic doctor. I couldn't believe this was happening to me, especially since I’m going into half of my junior year of high school. I have state exams all of next week, this will determine me graduating on time and this has to happen to me now. I look to my parents, both are devastated seeing me in such condition, but what can we do?

            Mr. Hopke said, “Okay, Angy, this is what we are going to do, you are going to use your good leg by putting all of your weight on it, don’t worry you are not going to fall, I’m holding you.” I knew that I needed to calm myself down in order for me to do this. We worked together; he directed me to his office and told me to sit on the chair while he grabbed another one to elevate my foot. He called the office for a wheelchair and for the nurse to come down to the gym. He began to examine my foot with minimal movements and every where he touched, it would spike up that horrible sensation of knives stabbing me multiple times.

            My parents began talking to the doctor about my condition; we didn't understand why the technician from Union Hospital took the X-Ray pictures all wrong. The doctor asked what time did we arrive to the hospital and when we told him that it was about eleven, he said that he was there at that time. My dad got so angry because the skinny, stupid emergency room doctor said that there was no orthopedic doctor on call in the hospital. That doctor was lucky that my dad didn't have him in front of him otherwise he would have punched him. I asked the doctor when the surgery would happen because next week I had the state exams and he said that it would have to be Monday.

            I was taken to the nurse’s office when the wheelchair came and there I saw my foot swell up like a balloon. This was the worst Thursday ever and the worst part was that I needed to give my parents a call. I called my dad, I told him to calm down first and I explained what happen after the nurse spoke to him about what was happening. I told him that he needed to pick me up from school and take me to the emergency room. While I was waiting for my parents, the nurse helped me elevate my foot and gave me an ice pad to put on top.

            This was the worst, not only was I missing the exams, I’m having surgery and I don’t know how long I would have to be in a cast for. I discussed with the doctor that I didn't want to go to school with crutches, I would fall, people are rude and I just didn't want to face anyone in school after this. Not to mention, that I was so happy the day before because I was about to get my driving permit. So many thoughts were running through my mind, it was like my body was being numb from head to toe just thinking about it all.

            My parents arrived at my high school to see their daughters face with so much pain. They rushed me to the hospital and it was there that everything unfolded. My dad drove carefully so I wouldn't feel the holes as we headed down to Union. When we entered the emergency room, I noticed that there was no one in the waiting room; it was just me, my parents and the nurse’s behind a tinted window desk. As my dad signed me in, I began feeling sick, I felt dizzy, about to vomit or worse, faint right here in the middle of this waiting room. My mom got a coke from the vending machine for me to drink, she said that it would help me with my low blood pressure, but she rushed me to the bathroom just in case I did need to vomit. It was until then that I was finally called into the room where the nurses filled my head with so many questions. I was seen by the emergency doctor after twenty minutes of answering questions and he came to check my ankle. He wrapped it up, saying that it might just be a fracture or even a sprain, but didn't think it was broken. Little did I know that the X-Ray images were all taken incorrectly and that I would have to wait in pain in order to see an orthopedic doctor in couple of hours later.

            We arranged everything to have my surgery done that following Monday, but just the thought of having to wait from Thursday night all the way to Monday morning made my stomach turn. My dad was so furious that if he could he would chase that hospital doctor down until he heard what he had to say. My poor mom felt guilty because if she didn't tell me to go to school this would have never happened, but I don’t blame her at all for this. I knew that there was no reason for me not to go to school, I never want to go to school, but today for some strange reason; which now I know why, I didn't want to go.

            Once we left the hospital with the appointment made already to see the orthopedic doctor that late afternoon, we headed back to the high school. My dad was so mad that this happened during school hours, but they needed to hear his piece of mind. I followed him into the school to show that this was serious and it’s more than just a fracture or a sprain. My dad raised hell especially with the gym teachers for allowing this to happen and not being more attentive to what was going on.  The nurse came to see me, asked me what the doctor said and I spoke to her, but I can see that she knew that it was not a fracture or a sprain. My dad came by to thank the nurse for taking care of me and for assisting me when I was in need. My dad spoke with my principle and we had to have the board come into this because the school was responsible for me, as they are for every student that attends Hillside High School.

            I couldn't believe that I was going to have surgery for the first time and I knew that I didn't want to be awake to see them operate on me. I asked the doctor for general anesthesia rather than local. I couldn't handle the sight of blood let alone the sight of a broken bone inside of me. I became depressed to know that I couldn't walk or even go up the stairs to my own bedroom.  The things I was able to do alone such as dressing, showering, changing or even go up and down the stairs, I couldn't do it by myself anymore. Showering was the hardest; my entire leg needed to be out of the tub wrapped with two garbage bags because I couldn't get the cast wet. My poor mom had to wash my long blondish-pinkish hair in the bathroom sink because if I stayed in the shower too long my leg would become numb and I would be in pain.

            The principle agreed to pay every bill that we had due to this accident. The orthopedic doctor gave me the okay to stay the entire year off from school, but I needed to be home schooled by the teachers that were part of the program that we had in our high school.  It was snowing, a cold month of March on the day that I was having my surgery. My best friend drove me to the surgery center; he was my support through this horrible time. He knew what I was going through because he also broke a bone of his own. At the surgery center, they prep me for the surgery and when it was time to go I remember saying bye to my mom when they injected me with the anesthesia. I remember a bright light and what appeared to be the feet of a man with a white gown on. I remember talking to this man, asking him questions and before hearing his answers I hear a soft voice calling my name. I felt like I was being dragged away from speaking to this mysterious man as I was being called on to wake up from this wonderful sleep. I wake up from this sleep and I realize I’m in the recovery room with my foot elevated with a cast that went all the way up to my knee.  This was it, two pins inside and now I’m trapped in this cast for an entire month.

            The doctor said that the surgery went well and that I had eight staples where the wound was. He said that I would need to be in a cast for at least a month and would need physical therapy. It was the hardest time of my life, I became very depressed because I wouldn't be able to walk or in my dramatic head, I didn't know if I were to ever gain strength on this left ankle again. I became depressed to the point that I lost a lot of weight; I couldn't fit in any of my clothes because of the cast, since it had to be loose clothing. I couldn't go anywhere without having my crutches, I would lose my balance easily.  My biggest fear was yet to come when the doctor would finally remove my cast in a month.

            I was excited to get rid of this cast, even though all of my friends signed it, I just couldn't wait to see what my foot would look like after all of this. When the doctor began sawing the cast off, I began to notice my leg, especially my ankle was black, blue and even purple. I was even peeling; all of the dead skin and the most shocking part was seeing how skinny my foot got compared to the other one. I cried because my foot was ugly, it was skinny, black, blue, purple and I had a scar. This scar would stay with me forever, there’s no changing that. It will remain with me forever as a memory of what happened and how it happened. The doctor said that I need physical therapy at least for a month.

            “This is so hard, I can’t do this!” as I cry out to my physical therapist; who was pushing me to my limit. My dad was by my side for every exercise, he was the one supporting me and helping me through out it all. Kathy, my psychical therapy pushed me to the max every time I would come in for a session, but she sure gave a great message afterwards. She pushed me from the moment I started therapy to my very last day.

            Your bone has heeled, it’s looking good, but if later down the line you feel like it’s bothering you then we may remove the pins if your bone is growing on top of the pins. I finished my therapy, able to move again and I was able to walk without having the fear of breaking my ankle all over again. I started from the very beginning; I had to learn how to walk just by taking my first baby steps and evolving from there. It hurt a lot, but I needed to gain strength on this foot again and I pushed myself to do so. I learned that you never know what you have until you lose it and realize that we all take our body for granted. Breaking a bone changed my way of seeing life, others and how it made me more grateful for what I have.