The relentless cold rain wreaked havoc on my phantom foot yesterday. If the rain hadn't been enough to keep us indoors (in reality it was all the motivation I needed), my twinging non-existent ankle would have kept me sidelined. I knew as soon as I woke up that the phantom pain was going to be an issue. As I have crept into my 40's I've realized that my limb is more accurate than the weather channel at forecasting changes in patterns.
I spent the majority of my day reminding myself that
my ankle is not twisted. Physically I was not hurt because the foot was
not there. Despite the lack of tissue and bones, my ankle felt like it
had been newly twisted. I can only describe the sensation as painfully
Massage, heat and compression all failed to break the
phantom twisting. I finally took some ibuprofen, donned my leg and
prepared for a day of phantom leg discomfort. I hate bad leg days.
Nothing makes me feel as disabled and sours my mood as quickly as
hobbling around in pain.
Unable to stop the twisting, I was
forced to resort to talking myself through the episode. It is
definitely an odd self-dialog that transpires as I remind myself that my
foot is not really hurting because I don't have one. Out of fear of
garnering even more glances than usual, I tried to keep my mumbling as
quiet as possible when I was forced to venture in public. Thankfully
Timmy decided to step up his game and distracted all of our fellow
shoppers with his cheerful singing and giggles, masking any self-dialog
that might have been audible.
By mid afternoon the ibuprofen
had taken affect, the twisting was starting to lessen, and when Scott
came home from work, my leg was nearly normal. I am hoping for fewer
pain days this winter.