My ankle recovery

Hello everyone! My name is Jake, and like you; I took the same dive into google looking for answers and recovery stories.

I suffered a 7 inch fracture running upwards on my fibula, a dislocated ankle joint, a fracture on the rear of my tibial joint, and a few torn ligaments. I received (ORIF) surgery the following day where they placed a plate and 12 screws, as well as setting my ankle joint, and stitching my ligaments.

Here's my story as of two weeks post operation.

On Saturday December 19th, 2020, I took my typical drive down to one of the skate parks I frequent in San Diego. I have been skating, surfing, snowboarding, hiking, playing sports, etc. since I was ten years old. I am twenty-two years old and frankly, can not sit still or stay inside for extended periods of time. I am always, always on the go.

After a few times skating around the park doing my usual tricks, I was slowing down and inadvertently went into the motion of the splits. My front foot remained on the board while my trailing foot caught the pavement, causing a quick jarring movement in my lower leg. I did not even fall to the floor. I heard the famous snap crackle pop and knew immediately that I had induced some sort of serious damage to my ankle. I am unsure how I managed to get myself out of the bowl, but I did, where I immediately tried to hobble it off and physically feel it for any irregularity. My toes were facing forward, but my ankle was hanging slightly inward. I stood at the side of the bowl for a few minutes hoping so bad that it was just a tweak and I would be able to walk it off and just ice it at home. I couldn't put any weight on it, and at that point I knew I had to get out of there as fast as I could.

I don't skate with my phone just in case I do casually fall while trying something new (like I have for all these years). I was about a quarter mile from my car and knew that if I made it there I could drive myself to the E.R. (wishful thinking) or call my girlfriend to pick me up. So, I began slowly making my way through the skate park and down the pathway towards the parking lot. I was moving extremely slow trying to use my skateboard as a crutch. I would take 1-2 steps and have to take a break. I would attempt to stand on my board and roll as far as I could simply so I didn't need to take steps on it. It took me about 35 minutes to get to my car where I called my girlfriend who drove me to the hospital.

Due to COVID restrictions she could not even walk through the front door, so we parted ways and I hobbled inside. Within an hour I had received x-rays and was greeted by a doctor who pulled the photos up on the computer and talked them through with me. I was expecting to hear that I had dislocated my ankle and they were going to set it, put a cast on, and send me home. I was shocked to see the x-rays and learn of the multitude of problems in my lower leg. I had literally walked in the front door of the hospital less than two hours ago. The doctor explained that I would need surgery to repair it all, to which I proceeded to second guess him and ask about the odds of full recovery without the installation of hardware. My phone was dead at this point, my parents were 200 miles away, I was alone, and I had never had surgery in my life. It took three different visits from the poor doctor before I finally agreed to do the surgery on my unstable ankle.

I was admitted for the next two nights where I got the surgery, a phone charger, and two tuna sandwiches (lol). I had woke up from operation in a splint and truthfully had no idea what my ankle looked like, nor what exactly had been done inside of my leg.I left on Monday in a serious amount of pain due to a personal reluctance to take pain medications. I did in fact end up utilizing the pain medication during the first week simply due to the extreme pain and discomfort.

During that first week, I felt pretty helpless not being able to do any of the mundane tasks that I would do in a normal day. I missed the sun, being able to get out of bed, and my freedom in a way. I almost felt a sense embarrassment at what had happened. I did my best to suck it up and accept the change of pace and new challenge. I felt that the whole situation had humbled me. I realized that I didn't regret what had happened at all, I was just ashamed at how vulnerable I had become.

Yesterday marked two weeks since surgery and I went to my first post-op appointment with my podiatrist. For some reason I was very anxious to see my leg for the first time after the operation, I truly did not know what to expect, how big the incision was, how many screws, etc. When the doctor cut off the splint I was truthfully discouraged. While in my splint, I felt as if I could move my toes easy, and my pain had largely subsided. However, when I saw my ankle it was massive, discolored, and practically frozen in the position of the splint. The doctor cut out each of my 30 staples and gave me a boot with NWB orders. I return in three weeks for another check-up.

I have been doing light ROM when I take off my boot and it feels good. I feel small amounts of flexion being regained already. I know how long this road will take, but these small daily victories are keeping me going. I try to find any reason to be proud of my progress, without becoming complacent of course. I am prepared to give this rehabilitation everything I have so that I can regain normalcy in my ankle again. I am strong, we are all strong. I am unafraid of the vulnerability and reliance that this has caused me. Sure we may all have to alter our daily lives in order to recover, but we're alive, can't you feel it?

Be strong, be courageous, be bold, and be unafraid.

-Jake

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