Tag Archives: bone graft

The one about my leg – part 2

18 Nov

This is the second part of my leg story. If you haven’t read the first part, click here. Otherwise, I’ll pick up where I left off.

“Your tibia is broken just below your knee,” they told me as they put an x-ray on the light box. “This area here,” he pointed to the x-ray, “is a tumour. It covers 25% of your tibia.” I could see a large area of my bone that was seemingly missing, with a clean break at the thickest part.

I didn’t know what to say. I just kind of stared at them, shock replacing my pain.

“It’s likely not cancer, but there is that chance.” All I heard was cancer. I was terrified. I was only 16 years old. I was booked in to take my drivers licence test that very weekend, only 2 days later. I think my Dad was there, but maybe not. My Mom must have called him went she took me to the hospital. I think I remember him being in that room when they told me I had a tumour.

They put my leg in a brace that had about a zillion straps, booked me in to see the specialist the next day and sent me on my way.

With my leg completely straight in the brace, I had to sit sideways in the car with my leg across the bench seat, taking up the entire back seat.

“What happened to you?” Maria (my friend (not the one who broke my leg) who lived with us) said when I hobbled up the steps. It was about midnight by then. I was too full of shock and adrenaline to sleep, so I told her everything. “Well, at least I bought ice cream.” She got the container of orange sherbert with chocolate chunks out of the freezer. Just what I needed. I ate it straight from the carton. When you’re laying on the couch with a broken leg, bowls just aren’t necessary.

My bed was up high. Kind of like a bunk bed only there was no bottom bed. Instead there was a book shelf and a desk. Needless to say, I wouldn’t be sleeping up there any time soon. I had to sleep on the couch. On my back. And try not to really move because it hurt too much. I still hadn’t taken anything for the pain. I figured I’d already gone 5 hours without anything, and I didn’t die, so what’s a few more? I was very anti-drugs, in any way, shape, or form, including pain killers. Don’t worry, I’m not silly now, I will quite happily pop a Panadol if my head is pounding.

In the morning, I spread myself out in the back of my Dad’s car as he drove me to the specialist half an hour away. More x-rays were taken and a verdict reached.

“It looks like the you were born with this tumour. I’m surprised you haven’t broken your leg before. It’s amazing you’ve gone this long with such a weak spot in your bone.” Yeah, especially since I used to compete in TaeKwonDo tournaments. “I’m about 99% sure the tumour is not cancerous. It’s just fibrous tissue. Now that you’ve broken your leg, it might just fill in on it’s own as the break heals. Otherwise, you’ll have to have surgery later on.”

He plastered me up in a cast that went from the base of my toes all the way to the middle of my thigh. There were no waterproof casts back then, it was an old school, cotton, then white plaster cast. There was a slight bend at the knee, so my leg wasn’t entirely straight, but it wasn’t bent enough to sit on a chair properly either. Riding in the car was quite tricky. Because of the bend, I had to put a pillow or something under my knee and put my whole leg on across the seat. It wouldn’t fit sitting normally.

So even though I had an automatic van, I couldn’t get my drivers licence. Not yet. I’d have to wait. Sigh.

The cast was quite thick, so I couldn’t wear pants either. I had to wear shorts even though it’s quite cold in April. My mom actually had to take me shopping so I could buy an ample supply of shorts that were wide enough to fit over my cast on the way up. I had to pull out of PE class for obvious reasons, and I could no longer ride the bus to school.

I had to stop wearing a bra because the crutches sat under my armpits right where my bras did, rubbing against the bra which rubbed against my skin and made horrible sores. Not that I really needed a bra anyway. I didn’t have any boobs.

Every afternoon after school, I’d come home and fall asleep on the couch, exhausted from all the hobbling around on crutches. My classes were spread all over the school, so getting to them was no easy feat. I was allowed to be late to each and every class.

I couldn’t sleep in my bed, so instead I slept downstairs, in the rec-room, where Maria lived. She had a bed down there, but she preferred the couch, and always slept on the couch anyway. I slept on the bed and she got the couch. We were never really sleeping at the same time though, she worked nights (she was older than me).

Maria would come home in the morning just as I was getting taking the garbage bag off my cast after my shower. I was able to masterfully throw my underpants over my cast leg, pull them up with the toes of my other leg, and then reach them with my hands. I couldn’t bend over too far because that would pull on my bone and put me in terrible pain. I could not, however, manage to land my shorts on my foot. I tried and tried. But it never worked.

When Maria got home from work every day, she’d put my shorts on for me. You know someone is a true friend when they are willing to dress you daily (my parents were already at work, they left at  ridiculous o’clock in the morning, so they were unavailable for pants duty).

As the weeks went by, I went in for x-ray after x-ray, follow up after follow up. The hole didn’t fill in.

I finally got my cast off and found my leg covered in itchy hair, dirty as sin, and the muscle totally atrophied and disgusting looking.

4 months after I broke my leg, in the middle of summer and the school holidays, I got my drivers licence. Finally.

7 months after my leg broke, I went in for surgery. They cleared out the tumour (which, thank goodness, was not cancer. They tested it to make sure), and filled it in with bone that they took from my hip. I had to wear a brace for a long while after that, as it healed and the bone they stuck in there fused with the bone that surrounded it. After surgery was incredibly painful. My hip throbbed. My leg throbbed. My ankle swelled up to unbelievable proportions. I still refused to take pain killers.

When Lauren came to my house as an exchange student, I was still recovering. My brace was a thing of the past, but I still had a bandage on my leg. The incision took a while to heal after some of my internal stitches decided to become external.

Now my leg is fine. there is an area all around the scar on my tibia that doesn’t have much feeling. If anything touches it, it makes me shudder. It feels kind of disgusting. It gets goosebumps when I work out, but when I get goosebumps because I’m cold, that area does not get them. Weird.

The bone from my hip mostly grew back. When I touch the scar, I don’t feel it on the scar, but on my inner thigh. Nerves get all messed up with surgery I suppose. Other than that, there is no affect now. I can run, jump, skip, whatever. I’m all healed. I just have some cool battle scars.

Me with my broken leg and my leg after surgery. My friend’s face is covered because I haven’t asked her if her photo can be on the blog.

But you know what? Breaking bones and the pain post bone graft is NOTHING compared to giving birth. Time to get my tubes tied….

If you enjoyed reading this, please vote for my blog. All you have to do is click the link below. That’s it… Clicking the link brings you to the Top Mommy Blogs home page. You don’t have to do anything else. Any clicks from my site to theirs is a vote.  THANKS!
Vote for me @ Top Mommy Blogs - Mom Blog Directory

Like my blog? ‘Like’ it on facebook: http://www.facebook.com/pages/Mommy-Adventures/203964682967827?ref=tn_tnmn

Pin It You officially have my permission to pin this (as long as it links back to my site).  Just don’t act like you wrote it. Because you didn’t….

Copyright 2012 Sheri Thomson

The Best Mom Blogs

37 weeks

15 Jun

Pregnancy: 37 weeks 1 day
Total weight gain: 15.8kgs (34.83lbs)
Baby size (approx head to foot): 48.6cm (19.13in)
Baby weight (approx): 2.8kg (6.17lbs)

I’ve been getting nosebleeds on a near daily (nightly to be more accurate) basis. I woke up with one last night, and have had one 4 in the past 6 nights. Only my left nostril though, nothing from my right. I guess if the little blood vessels in my right nostril would like to escape, they will first have to emigrate to my left nostril. Then they can burst and go free just like their lefty neighbors. I’m beginning to think that maybe my left side is just defective. When I was little, it was one of my left toes that broke when my horse backed into a fence, scared the bollocks out of herself, jumped forward, and landed on my foot. I broke my left leg, and then a bone tumor and bone graft in my left leg (ok, so my leg broke because of the tumor, but that is not the point). It was my left that had a lump that needed a biopsy (cancer free, but not a fun process). My left eye’s vision is worse then my right. And now, my left nostril likes to gush blood in the middle of the night (nosebleeds are normal for pregnant women. I asked at my last appointment just to be sure). It’s no wonder Mushi likes to reside in the right side of my uterus.

I’ve finally bitten the bullet and given the epi-no a go. I can’t say that it’s at all pleasant, but each time I use it, I can blow up the blue silicone contraption a little bigger then the last time. Hopefully my lovely perineum will remember all the work I’ve put into it, and while I’m giving birth, not tear on me. I have to hold the contraption in place the entire time because it seems the female body doesn’t like such torture and tries to push it out all by itself. I suppose that comes in handy during delivery though.

I am still having very vivid dreams (a normal part of being pregnant). The other night I woke myself up with my “don’t tickle me” grunt/whingy noise, and really thought that Aaron was tickling my feet. Poor Aaron didn’t know what was going on when I told him to stop tickling me. Turns out I was dreaming. Other dreams are quite vivid too, but I know they are not actually real because they usually include things like my pony talking to me, or being on the Island from Lost with Aaron trying to figure out what the heck is going on. It’s the realistic dreams that cause problems. I couldn’t figure out if I actually had a conversation with Aaron about going grocery shopping together, or if I dreamt the conversation. I had to ask him, only to find that it was indeed a dream. I like the strange dreams better, at least I know they aren’t real.

height (measurement from pubic bone to top of uterus) was actually less then the week before because Mushi has descended into my pelvis (not all the way, but most of the way). I knew when he was doing it because of all the wiggling, but the next day, we could actually see that my belly was lower. At my last hospital appointment on Friday, my fundalMushi has moved down and they can’t measure accurately when the head is in the pelvis (as it is lower then the pubic bone). This new position brings good and bad news. The good news is my lungs have a bit more space, as does my stomach, so I can eat a full meal without feeling sick. The back news is every time I stand up, I feel like I have to pee (due to a head putting pressure on my bladder).

How to torture a pregnant woman: Get a wonderful looking piece of chocolate cake (with strawberry on the side, and chocolate sauce zigzagging back and forth over the top), keep it in front of you for half an hour, but don’t eat one little bit of it. Don’t even touch the spoon. But, don’t offer it to anyone else, just leave it there, making the pregnant woman next to you wonder the whole time if you are ever going to eat it. Aaron and I were on a comedy cruise around Sydney Harbour on Saturday, and that is exactly what happened. Aaron and I were both served the cheesecake (which was very yummy), but were hoping that they would do the traditional thing and alternate the 2 dishes with every other person. We had it all figured out before they started serving that we would go halves so we got to try both. The person next to me didn’t take even one little taste of his cake, so I was tortured by it staring at me, wanting me to eat it for quite some time. By the time we docked, it was still sitting there, but the man who it belonged to had not come back to the table. I contemplated grabbing it many times, but we were at a table with lots of randoms, and I’m sure that would’ve looked a bit sketchy. I like to tell myself that it didn’t taste very good as no one who had the chocolate cake finished it, and everyone who had the cheesecake left no remnants on their plates.

as her attire allowed her legs plenty of moving room. Her skirt only came down to the end of her bottom. I don’t know how someone can leave the house in such clothing. 1) wouldn’t they be cold, it’s winter! 2) wouldn’t they be “You may have seen our first guest on The Footy Show, or Rove Live. Give it up for (insert name here, I can’t remember what his name is). Hmmm…. He certainly does look familiar…. Oh, they should have said “or you may have seen him keeping you in good spirits and amusing you during ad breaks if you have been in the audience for Ready Steady Cook.” That is where I’d seen him before (which I thought was hilarious and random). He was very funny, especially when poking fun at the guy from Rooty Hill with a mullet at the first table. There were a couple of disturbances early in the night though. One of the passengers missed the boat and then got a water taxi to bring him to us in the middle of the harbour. It cost him $80 which was more then the cruise itself. We felt comforted after seeing the water taxi pull up though. At least we knew if my water broke or something, all we had to do was call a water taxi and we could high tail it off the boat (luckily we didn’t need to). Later, a girl fell down the last couple of stairs from the top deck. I don’t know how that happenedembarrassed (I would!)? 3)wouldn’t they be worried that the tiny skirt would head north and expose their bottom and nether region?? 4) is it really necessary to show that much skin? The cruise was very fun though, we had a really good night out.

My pregnancy books are telling me to get as much rest as I can from now as labour is very tiring etc. Ok then, if the books say so… I’m going to spend half the day with my feet up. I like that idea.

%d bloggers like this: