A little more personal..

My ankle after surgery.

I’m going to do something that I don’t do very often. I am going to get a little bit personal in this blog post. As some know, in early 2017, I shattered my tibia and fibula. When I had finished getting ready for my evening, about to head to a dog training class to assist, and then to a friends, I walked down the stairs. Boone, my youngest dog attempted to meet me part way up the stairs to greet me. Unfortunately, as he stepped up, I stepped down and, as I’m sure you’re getting the picture, my foot landed on his paw and the floor was literally pulled out from under my feet when he darted away. I went down hard, sliding down two stairs on my ankle. Hitting the floor, I was gasping in pain. I was in shock, and denial to put it frankly. My husband rushed to me, while I cried tearless cries of pain. He went to touch my knee, I screamed at him not to touch me because it hurt too much. He told me it was probably broken. I remember saying, “No, it can’t be broken. I just need a minute. It can’t be broken, I have class, I have too much to do.” I remember wanting to get up, but I couldn’t. He called an ambulance while I simply tried to breathe through the pain. I remember them[EMT’s] trying to use Laughing Gas, but it made things throb more, made me more aware of the pain and where it hurt, so they ran an IV into my wrist and gave me morphine instead.

At some point after I arrived at the hospital, I had x-rays performed, and then they “set” my ankle and put me in a cast. I don’t remember most of this. My ex-husband says I was screaming swears. I must have blacked out or shut it out from my memories, because it isn’t there for me in the files in my brains bank of consciousness. The surgeon came to see me, he called it a Trimalleolar fracture. He said we would schedule for surgery in three days. For three days, I sat in the hospital with my ankle healing in a cast, until they would do the surgery to add a plate and screws. I ended up with five screws, one on my tibia, and a plate and four screws on my fibula. After I awoke from surgery, I was in what felt like more pain than I had been in when I had broken it in the first place. They gave me morphine, and it didn’t touch the pain, so they tried fentanyl, and when none of that was working, they gave me ketamine. I stopped breathing. I don’t remember any of it until I was being wheeled back to my room with an oxygen mask on. They made me keep the mask on until the day I was discharged.

When you have three dogs and a three, almost four year old child, you don’t want to be laid up in a bed or on a couch, or stuck on crutches. I had a big two story house, dogs who needed to be walked, a toddler who needed to be looked after, and classes I needed to complete. My ex-husband did his best to support me while going through a lot of his own things, and working. I had family and friends step up and try to help in every way they could.

I don’t think anyone thinks about how much they take certain things for granted. The ability to walk my dogs? The ability to put my son to bed without help, or give him a bath, or clean the house on my own..? I spent a lot of time feeling really crappy, being depressed. When I was finally given weight-bearing status again, and began trying to put my foot down to walk on it, I couldn’t. What had happened, was I hadn’t been casted properly, or maybe my cast had loosened or shifted over time, and I ended up with what was referred to as “Ballerina’s foot” – this is where the toes are pointed downwards, so my foot was not at the 90 degree angle it should have been. I could not place my foot flat on the ground, let alone put any kind of weight on it. My surgeon promptly told me that I had two weeks of physio to get my foot flat on the ground and walking on it or he would put me through another surgery and cut my achilles. When I had originally asked for physio, he had argued with me, this time he gave me the note I asked for.

For two weeks, I busted my butt in physiotherapy. I cried, I hurt, I pushed my limits, but I did it. I managed to finally get back onto my foot and walked into my appointment without crutches. I limped, but I did it and damn right he didn’t try to schedule another surgery. Six months later, I went to see him because I was still struggling with a lot of daily pain and problems with my ankle. He brushed off all of my concerns, didn’t listen, and simply said, “”What do you expect with that kind of break?”

I went to my family physician and requested a referral to a new surgeon of my choice. She tried to argue with me, tried suggesting I choose a different career path even! I went back and stood my ground with the help of my wonderfully supportive girlfriend and got my referral sent in. It turned out that the screw on my tibia was sticking out and rubbing my muscles.. The new surgeon listened to all of my concerns, looked at me and said, “We can remove this. We don’t even need to put you out.” And we scheduled the appointment to remove the problem screw. I finally had a surgeon who was willing to listen, and better yet, I didn’t have to go back under anesthesia, which I was terrified of doing thanks to the complications previously. During that appointment, I nervously covered my eyes and counted the seconds until it was over, and then walked out with my ankle stitched and bandaged up. He even gave me a note for more physio!

After meeting with the new surgeon, prior to removal.

Since all of this, little things are huge successes for me. From the first time I crutched my way into my sons room to lay in bed with him, to the first time I managed to bath or shower alone without assistance, to the time I managed to walk without crutches, albeit painfully and awkwardly, barefoot on a rainy ground.

I have learned a few things from all of these experiences:

• Don’t take things for granted
• Even the little successes are successes
• Free Shaping(training technique) is a TON of fun and can be done while off your feet
• I have a huge support network that loves me and support me
• This created a large set back in behavior modification with my own fearful pup, but we are getting back to where we were
• I don’t need toxic, negative, or unhealthy relationships in my life
• How to advocate for myself and those I care for
• I can push my limits

I have overcome little hurdles one at a time… First, I overcame getting around on crutches, and then doing daily tasks while using crutches, and then getting back onto my foot, and learning how to advocate for myself, and another surgery, and even walking dogs again. But the process was a slow one. We are coming up on almost two years since I broke my ankle, and I still deal with pain almost daily. It still gets incredibly stiff and difficult to walk on. I walk dogs during the day and at night, struggle to go up or down stairs or walk around once I have sat on the couch to relax. My biggest fears have been going through another surgery: I did it. Falling down stairs again: Of course my clutzy self has achieved that one again, albeit without a broken bone. Walking dogs individually without getting injured or being dragged around: Successful! Walking two dogs at once: Huge success!

But probably the biggest and most notable success for myself so far… and while it is little, it is huge… I walked Charlie and Ria together. Now, some of you may be thinking, “Wait… but aren’t those two of your own dogs?”

I walk my three separately for numerous reasons.

• They get individual one-on-one attention
• We can do some fun training while on our walk
• Boone is fearful and reactive of strange people and strange dogs so I have more control and can focus on his individual needs better
• Ria is still working at being good on a leash(we worked mostly on her off leash skills when she was a puppy, inadvertently created a negative association with the leash by delegating her to the leash if she didn’t listen off leash – not how I would handle things now and I definitely have learned a lot as a trainer since she was a puppy!, she gets extremely excited and hits the end of her leash HARD, and her focus is everywhere except on the person holding the other end of the leash because everything is so much more interesting)
• Charlie USED to be leash reactive, not fear based.. He was simply excited and wanted to go make friends with everyone, as many Beagles tend to be, so we have worked hard at calming him down about his excitement and showing him that he doesn’t have to yell “Hey be my friend!” to enjoy a walk
• I was terrified of being pulled down or getting hurt
• I didn’t trust myself or my ankle anymore

Not only was their walk a HUGE success… Both dogs paid attention to me, Ria showed exactly how far she is coming in terms of her on leash training, nobody pulled me off my feet and we utilized a reward system based off food and life rewards such as being able to go sniff and explore for paying attention or doing as asked.

I will admit that I cried. I cried because I was happy. It was a huge moment for me. I successfully walked two of my dogs together for the first time since breaking my ankle. For a year and a half, they have been walked individually, and I finally bit the bullet, and tried. I was letting my ankle hold me back, and worst of all, hold back my dogs who have made huge strides too.

I am learning to trust my ankle again. Slowly. And my dogs are coming a long way from where they used to be. And we have years ahead of us, of more fun. And while I am slowly learning to trust my ankle again and I am still dealing with nerve pain on a regular basis, I absolutely refuse to give up doing what I love: training. My plan is to continue expanding my business, complete all of the courses I wish to complete so that I may continue to expand my education and knowledge to better serve my clients and their furry best friends, and focus on the positives, one step at a time.