Screwed: There's More to the Story

It took a skinny second for me to decide the next title for this blog: "Screwed" seems apropos, after all, screws now occupy 6 out of my 10 toes; all are fused at the second joint. So, allow me clarify an ambiguous title, yet not so bewildering if you have been following my story (feel free to peruse prior posts).  I suppose, I feel that way too, metaphorically speaking; it's the anger that creeps up inside because I'm worn out from everything I've endured over the last couple of years.  

First surgery: Ankle Arthorodesis to stabilize foot

In addition, I feel disillusioned by my primary care physician who convinced me in early 2007 to take a drug (statin) to lower my cholesterol, which soon caused weakness and nerve damage in my legs.   In 2007, I was told I was a walking candidate for a heart attack--224 was my number.   Although, I was fit and healthy, hereditary factors determined the drug was necessary even though no one in my family had high cholesterol.  I'm convinced that taking this drug resulted in injuries to my ankle.  Yes, there's more to this story.   

Surgery to straighten toes

Since my surgery last November, to fuse my left ankle for stability, then my right, I still needed a little tweaking. My toes did not lay straight and screws would fix this, as well as aid with balance when standing. On December 23rd, I completed my triad of surgeries in thirteen months. This has been tough on the body and mind for sure as I'm still recovering and healing from the two prior surgeries.  Ambulation still requires assistance via the use of a wheelchair or walker. Believe me, I have my moments where I wish I could jump out of my chair and run screaming into the night; restriction of your mobility will do that to you. However, writing is cathartic, and if my experience helps someone, then I'm grateful.  I receive comments that keep me committed to sharing this journey with you.  And, I try to write as honestly as possible.

On that thought, and to honor those who have commented along the way, thoughtful and honest prose isn't easy.  For that matter, writing is hard work especially when it feels like you've self injected truth serum and made a vow to no holding back.  I owe this truth telling moment to the training and teachings of my former graduate school professors, Dr. Carolyn Ellis and Dr. Arthur Bochner, who taught me that writing autoethnography requires the researcher/writer to bring truth to their story and become a coparticipant when telling it.   In other words, "engaging the storyline morally, emotionally, aesthetically, and intellectually" (p. 745) are indelible inscriptions that guide a writer.  As a writer, if you can accomplish these things, then your reader is probably going to finish what you've written. But writing this way can also make you feel like you're standing naked in the wind with a really bloated stomach.  There's a lot to convey and your hope is that your written work reads organized, honest, and not randomly.  To quote my well respected and admired professors, Autoethnography is "an autobiographical genre of writing that displays multiple layers of consciousness, connecting the personal to the cultural" (p. 739).  Without a doubt, many blogs deliver this kind of authenticity and fall into this genre of writing.

Back to my status: my toes are still swollen, red, and tender at the tip--the point of entry for the screws. I feel like I've gone backwards in some ways.  My daughter describes looking at my toes as if someone chopped them off, and then sewed them back on. Other, than looking like a rag doll, I'd say they look good, not great yet, but decent.  Again, I'm aiming for functional feet and aesthetics, at this point, doesn't carry a lot of weight.  But this is definitely the way to go if you suffer from hammertoes or claw toes; painful foot disorders that interfere with walking. I developed the toe condition over time due to injury and nerve damage. My advice for severe conditions of your feet: don't waste your money on products to straighten or align your toes; they simply don't work.

Every day I learn about the trials of an other's health issue because my work places me in a position where I must align or advise patients on who can best help them with their own life threatening disease. I have to act swiftly in identifying specialists, coordinating their care, and navigate the often complex healthcare systems for the patients. The disparate calls continue to come in daily from patients, providers, and my constituents to act on immediately for assistance.  And I willingly serve as a conduit to their care.  Isn’t it funny how life’s circumstances provide new insights and meaning to your own place in the world?

References Cited

Ellis, Carolyn and Arthur P. Bochner
_____2000 Autoethnography, Personal Narrative, Reflexivity: Researcher As Subject, in N. Denzin and Y. Lincoln (eds.) THE HANDBOOK OF QUALITATIVE RESEARCH (2ND EDITION). Thousand Oaks, Ca.: Sage, pp. 733-768.