A Three Month Sentence

More reason to hate 2014. Last Monday I went for the two week follow up visit with my surgeon. I was foolishly optimistic. I went in thinking that I could positive attitude myself through this. If I had a positive attitude, I could pull it all together and get my life back as early as Thanksgiving week. 

What a pathetic fool I am. 

The good news is, the stitches came out and the xrays look great. The bad news is the truth told to me by the surgeon. Because I was told to not put any weight on the damn leg, I didn't move anything within the splint for those two weeks because I was afraid of messing something up. And as a result, the muscles/tendons/whatever in my ankle have tightened up and need help. As in 'aggressive' physical therapy three times a week for six weeks. Which I can't even start for another week and a half! And which I will have to take time off from work to do as the physical therapy facility's last appointment of the day is at 4:00 pm. I also won't be seeing my surgeon again for six weeks. During which time I am not to put any weight on the injured leg. At all. And then to add insult to my injury, I asked when I will be able to drive again, thinking 'the minute I can put weight on this foot again'. And I was wrong again. Best case scenario is three months and that's only if at three months I can put my full weight on the leg and have full flexibility in the leg/ankle will he clear me to drive. Three months during which I cannot drive myself anywhere in my mini cooper. Three months when I have to rely on someone (mainly my husband who does have a job of his own) to drive me literally everywhere. Work. Physical therapy. Doctor appointments. Stores. You name it. 

As I sat in the exam room taking it all in, I started to look around for something to hurl at the wall and break. Because I was so angry and frustrated. Luckily, there was nothing within reach. But I'm still angry and frustrated. I am used to being independent and doing everything for myself. I'm used to doing things for others, not having things done for me. And right now, there is so much I can't do. And it's not that I am not beyond grateful to everyone who has been helping me. I am beyond grateful. But I am having a very, very hard time getting past the frustration of being helpless. And afraid. Afraid of getting in a rush and falling again and making it worse. Afraid it will take even longer for me to get my life back.