Seven weeks ago, while playing intramural soccer (a sport that I've played for 19 years, and managed to evade serious injury for all of them), I got tangled up with the goalie trying to score a goal, and sprained my ankle. Walk it off, right? Wrong. Now it's important to note that this ankle has been through a lot in its life. In high school I did a number on it, and four years later ended up with dysfunctional ligaments and some cartilage damage that required surgery. After rehabing from the surgery my freshman year, the ankle was good as new. Better really... I called it my bionic ankle! It had done just fine for 7 years, until this fatefull day of intramural soccer.

So, I figured I would rehab it like normal and walked around limping for about 10 days before I decided it wasn't getting better fast enough, and went to the doctor. He said there was concern for some tendon damage (in addition to the high chance that I retore all of my nicely repaired ligaments!) and put me in a boot (you know, the big black cumbersome kind) for two and a half weeks. So I dutifully lugged the thing around, desperately trying to figure out how to do cardio with one leg (fail.) because cycling season was starting and I needed to stay in shape! Then, I got out of the boot, and started rehabing again. The result: FRUSTRATION!

It's been almost three weeks, and I still don't have normal range of motion, let alone the pain free range of motion I need to be allowed to start running. I can my bike on the trainer or do a spin class, but can't ride out on the road because I can't unclip from the pedal. I can swim, but it hurts too much to kick, so I can only pull with my arms. I have resigned myself to the fact that I probably won't be able to race this year, and will likely miss most of my soccer season (the two things that keep this crazy medical student sane!). I go back to the doc in a week to see if i'm progressing as expected, or if I need an MRI to see if there's any other damage. And I know enough to think of all the bad things that could be going on.

Since it has been slowly getting better (SLOWLY), yesterday I decided to see what would happen if I tried to run. So I went 0.5 miles on an indoor track. It did not go well. It hurt, not enough to make me stop but enough to remind me that I wasn't healed. And I was slow. And it hurt. I hate being a patient! Spring is coming, and I can't do any of the stuff I love doing outside.

But I'm trying very hard to follow the rules and understand that it just takes time. Grrrrrrr.