So earlier today I was given the ok to walk on my left ankle again, with a normal shoe, four months and one day after I broke it, and three months to the day after I had surgery on it. The whole broken ankle experience has been one I could have done without. 

I heard the crack of the bone snapping on the stairs that day. As the anger and emotion of knowing how breaking it would effect my life hit me, a wave of pain did as well, the combination of the two left me unconscious for a few minutes there on the stairs outside my apartment that day. When I woke up an ambulance was being called for me — which I quickly called off knowing that I could get a much cheaper ride to the emergency room with my girlfriend.

I ended up going to Grandy’s Emergency Room and got a taste of what public healthcare can be like since Grady is the place that everybody without insurance goes to in town for their general medical needs. It can be such a blessing if you are in need of medical care and don’t have any insurance — just as long as you don’t get in any big hurry. I was there for thirteen hours total that night — I was there ALL night and did not even have my doctor acknowledge my presence until I had been there for nine hours — even though she had walked past me multiple times prior to that. During all that time I got to see some pretty interesting and disturbing things from not just the patients that came in — but some of the employee’s too. Don’t get me wrong — I think the doctors and nurses that work at Grady deserve a pat on the back for what they do. They could make much better money working elsewhere, with a whole lot less hassle — yet they work there, I assume, because they truly wanna help people in need. That and it is really good experience. I am thinking the doctors and nurses that work Grady’s ER can get jobs just about anywhere after having worked there for a few years — the place is insane. It was a long night for sure, the best thing I had going for me was Jill staying by my side the whole night.

The visits to the Grady Orthopedic clinic were not much better either. Each time I went I had to wait for 3 to 5 hours to be seen. Once again, I think it was good doctors that I was seeing — they were just so over loaded with people to see. You really didn’t get treated like a human at Grady too much. The doctors and nurses would make an effort not to make eye contact or acknowledge any patient at all, unless they were dealing with that specific patient right then. It was almost as if you were an invisibly ghost to them. I understand why they may need to be this way due to how irrational and crazy some of their patients can be — but I’m here to tell you that it is quite frustrating when you are just a nice, sane, and agreeable person coming in for treatment.

Here is where private healthcare comes in. My friend Cat knew I was having doubts about the advice the Grady doctors were given me as to whether I needed surgery or not — “You need surgery, but you will probably be ok without it.” — so she got me in the door at Atlanta Sports Medicine to see her friend Dr. Garten. I gotta say, I was super impressed with the place as soon as I walked in the door. I was called back to see Dr. Garten within a few minutes of having gotten to there waiting room and he was just so chill. He took the time to not only give his opinion over whether I needed surgery or not, but also explained to me WHY he thought I needed it and actually showed me why on my x-rays. He then went on to have a quote for the surgery drawn up for me because he knew I was self pay and that they could likely do the surgery for me cheaper than Grady could. He was right, they were considerably cheaper, not to mention more friendly and efficient. And most importantly, I just trusted them more — they ARE the doctors for the Atlanta Falcons and Thrashers after all. If they’re good enough for professional athelets they were certainly good enough for me.

Dr. Garten introduced me to Dr. Langer, the guy that would be doing my surgery, and within a week I was laying on his operating table. The drugs they used to sedate me prior to going in the operating room apparently gave my sense of humor a boost too — according to Jill and one of the nurses I was quite entertaining. I don’t really remember any of it though.

The recovery from surgery took three months. I didn’t do well with the anesthesia wearing off at all, and the puddle of puke I left on the ground outside Atlanta Sports Medicines offices that next morning was evidence of that. According to Dr. Langer and Jill I literally looked green that morning. I didn’t care, I just wanted to feel better. The doc gave me plenty of prescriptions for that. Zofran to get rid of the nausea that morning, and the pain meds were great for making me the pain go away, but you paid a price for it though. Percocet, Vicoden, Ocycontin and prescription doses of Ibuprofen. Some people might see the first three as fun to take when you don’t really need them, but let me tell you, I got to the point where I was plain sick of taking them. The percocet would give me very vivid and disturbing dreams, and they all could make you feel really nauseous. At points I would rather just be sore than deal with how the pain meds would make me feel.

So here I am typing this three months later with a steady ache in my ankle from walking on it a good bit today. It still hurts. I wonder when it will not hurt anymore? I’m told that ankle will never feel quite right again, but I am determined to work and exercise it as much as I need to in order to have it not bother me anymore.

This whole experience has been unbilivably frustrating. I have seen the upside and downside to public healthcare. I have seen why healthcare is such an issue in this country due to certain clinics and people working the system just for financial gain. I have learned that basic insurance with a high deductible can be of very little use except for in the most extreme situations. I have learned how frustrating it is having to ask others to do simple things like take my garbage down the stairs for me because I could only hop up and down them hanging on to the railing while doing so. Everything in life, the smallest things in life, seemed to require extra effort and could be so much more exhausting. Hats off to the amputees and paraplegics out there for getting on with life as well as they do. Overcoming not having the use of one or multiple limbs is a tough thing to do, something I had not experienced until I broke my first bone ever — my ankle.