Wednesday, December 29th, was thirteen weeks post-surgery. My ankle was feeling good that day... the past couple of days it had been sore, probably due to the weather. Physical therapy was going well and I started using the treadmill, walking backwards, for two minutes. The object was to put more pressure on the toes and ball of the foot, and the exercise was easier for me than I thought it would be.
I hadn't been at the shelter in three months and was anxious to get back. My physical therapist thought I was ready, and although he didn't feel I would need the air cast, he suggested I bring it along just in case. I knew there things I could do that wouldn't require too much lifting on my part, and my son usually volunteered with me so he would be able to help me out.
Over the weekend we drove out to the beach for a little day trip. I did more walking on the beach than I had in a long time, and when we came home I cleaned the house a little, and my ankle was feeling just fine! I was so happy... before the surgery I wouldn't have been able to walk as far on the beach as I did that day, and even after the little bit of walking I could do my ankle would have been done for the rest of the day. It was sore but tolerable, and the soreness was expected. The best thing to do would be to ice it up and elevate it. I was feeling good and knew that I was well on my way to getting my life back.
On Monday I returned to work full-time and then went to physical therapy afterward. Needless to say, I was pretty exhausted that evening!