I Once Had Beautiful Feet

My Nemeses....my arch rivals...these beauties I
must trade for beasts! Is this worth foot surgery?
No. A thousand times No!




It is with sadness and heaviness that I write today. A dark reality has blanketed my day, and I must share it with my readership. I just returned from a follow up appointment with my Orthopaedic Surgeon, and I may have to have yet another foot surgery.

I wince.

You see, I have just now recovered from my first foot surgery. The surgery I had 7 months ago-a "simple" bunionectomy and cystectomy on my left foot. HA! The surgery that very nearly made me question whether I had a purposeful existence. Ladies and gentlemen, I wanted to die. (And I am not using hyperbole) That surgery was the most painful experience of my life, and of all the surgeries I've had, my foot surgery was the most unbearable.

Now, I won't go into all the medical jargon, but I will say this...the foot is nerve rich. Let me put it this way: I would rather relive my hysterectomy than have another foot surgery. But here I sit today, facing a possible and very likely surgery on my right ankle.

I was lucky enough to sustain a severe grade 3 sprain on my first day of our family vacation. Let's hear it for Rita the clutz! It changed the family vacation, to say the very least. I was equipped with an arsenal of Percocets and Lortabs, along with crutches and a very stylish splint. Not. The hiking plans were nixed, along with the tour of the Biltmore House. Instead, we played Scategories and Uno in Marathon-ish proportions.

But being the forever optimist, I simple thought 2-3 weeks in advance. You know, I visualized myself back at Curves with sweat glistening on my brow. I envisioned shedding my tacky splint and tossing those crutches aside. In the midst of my racking pain, I assured myself, "This will be over in a couple of weeks. Sprains aren't as bad as surgery...you'll be over this in no time."

Long story short; ten weeks post injury, my ankle is extremely loose. The swelling is still plaguing me, and there is an ever-present discoloration that resembles a bubonic blue. I would be lying if I said this ankle were pain free. And now the feet that were once dainty and pretty, (even my critical sisters would have to confirm this as fact) look like a crime scene. Or at least the left one does. And the right foot may be soon to follow!

We have a name for the way my feet look....FrankenFoot. A left foot defined by hideous keloid scars; a right foot defined by an eerie discoloration and swelling. Keloids of all things! I've got at least a half dozen surgery scars on my body, but none of them can be seen. None except the lovely keloids sitting atop my foot. My cute summer sandals can't mask the ugly feet that have taken on a life of their own. I would post photos, but it would be too graphic.

Alas! Am I, at 38, doomed to a life of orthopaedic Dr. Scholls footwear and knee high socks? I love my Clarks, but come on! They don't go with everything! I once had beautiful feet, but those feet will never return. It's just the plain hideous truth.

Before I appear overly vain and narcissistic, let me say that a potential ankle surgery holds more than just ugly scars. It also holds a great deal of pain and a long road of recovery. And that gives me the greatest sense of dread.

Let's face it: I have to laugh to keep from crying. My MRI next week will tell the tale. Hopefully, I will escape the pending doom of surgery. But if not, recuperation time means more time to write. Plus, I will readily admit, the Royal Treatment of a woman off her feet for 6-8 weeks is a nice way to recover!