The Native Iowan

Sunday. A blood sport Sunday. And the day before I go in for ankle surgery.

I am not medico-phobic, I simply have not had a lot of need for medical treatment in my life. My wild, off the grid lifestyle through the 80s, 90s, and into the new century did not offer much in the way of medical services. I guess I learned to do without.

Until I started getting old…

Tomorrow I go in for osteotomy of my right calcaneus. That means my heal bone is getting sawed in half and repositioned in the hope that it’ll put things “right”. Make me stand and move properly. As it is my right ankle does not cooperate with me much at all.

My numerous injuries and strains and tears and breaks have all added up to a no-way-out situation.

So I’ll let the saw-bones do his thing. I’ll be knocked out for over an hour. Saw the heal bone, repair some damaged tendons, fix some other plumping issues… I am warned the pain is going to be a big issue.

Ive never been too concerned with pain, noting my body is at least 50% covered with ink. I claim I know a bit about pain and a whole bunch about healing. In my book it’s all about healing. Once again I get to put my money where my mouth is…

Its is the recovery side of things I do not look forward to. It shall be months before I go dancing again. It shall be many weeks before I walk. The post-op regime is one of “no weight bearing for 8 weeks”, which means I shall sit on my arse, and learn to use my crutches.

In 2019 I had my left shoulder replaced. It did hurt, it was uncomfortable and it took the better part of a year for it to really, really heal. Funny though, I didnt use the pain-killers then, and still have those heavy opioids in the medical cabinet. Funny how a life-long user and abuser of pharmaceuticals can get to the point where I dont like “pills”, especially pain killers. Even aspirin, or paracetamol. I have learned in recent years that a good dose of THC oil will put me to sleep. Sleep is the thing required while healing.

Makes me think of a couple people I know who became addicted to opioids post-surgery. One old buddy injured his right arm in a terrible accident. His wrist, elbow, major bones all broken when a horse fell on him. Thats was in the 90s. He went through years of surgery and therapy. And a lot of pain. Relied on opioids and alcohol to survive. For the rest of his life, 30 years or so, he was an addict.

I have created a list of topics I’ll work on as I sit. Hardest part of all this will be the sitting, The inactivity. I’m not good at not being in motion.

Time will tell.

This getting old bullshit aint for sissies… at least that is what my aged Mother used to say.

Some images of the past few weeks…

More later