web analytics
Tag:

broken leg

cast fetish, broken leg, recovery, updates from the couch, physical therapy

I’ve had an eventful week, I discovered what the term cast fetish means. Ever heard of it? Me neither until now.

Last week I had my 8-week follow up appointment with my orthopedic surgeon for my broken leg and the news was good. I was released to begin weight bearing. This week I’m up to half weight bearing. I’m not fully functional yet but I’m driving and it’s better than being stuck on the couch like I had been for the previous 8 weeks. 8 weeks is a lifetime when you are used to being on the go all the time. I felt like I was doing time or under house arrest.

When the doctor gave me the news that I could start walking with crutches, I was so excited. I nearly danced a happy dance until I realized that my leg might not be quite strong enough yet so instead I opted for a little wheelchair boogie. Oh yes, I did!

The thing is this has been a crazy, long eight weeks and if it weren’t for all the amazing people who have jumped in to support me and pick up the slack and just pray and cheer me up, I don’t know how I would have gotten through it. Granted I’m still going through it but I feel like I’m coming out the other side. I can put some weight on my foot. That means everything. I never knew how much until now.

This experience has forced me to slow down and take inventory of my life and my health. I have reprioritized because the things I was racing around and breaking my neck to get to just aren’t that important anymore.

I’ve also garnered a new respect for toddlers. No wonder it takes them so long to learn to walk. It’s scary, especially with the possibility of falling ever looming. The last time I fell, my entire life changed.

I started physical therapy with elastic resistance bands on my broken foot this week. I was super excited because, in my mind, the more I can do to get back to normal the better life will be. My doctor has warned me that there might be setbacks but, you know me, I always think I’m going to be the exception so I went for it. I was all in at Tuesday’s physical therapy session and by Tuesday night, I was nearly in tears because my leg is so sore. That’s what I get for showing off.

There’s been some swelling and stiffness the last couple of days. I have another therapy session in about 15 minutes. I won’t lie. I’m kind of terrified. I want to keep moving forward. I don’t want to keep getting slowed down by pain but I guess that’s all part of recovery.

Of course, through all of this, I’ve discovered a bizarre, even seedy, side to broken bones. Throughout the entire ordeal, I’ve been posting photos and updates of my broken leg to my Instagram, Facebook and Twitter accounts because as a blogger, this is what I do. It’s been a great source of moral support. However, recently, I have noticed a rash of likes on my Instagram photos of my broken leg. Huh? Then it happened.

My Instagram profile is public because it’s part of my brand but I go through and block anyone who I get the “heebie-jeebies” from because there are photos of my children on there. So imagine my shock when suddenly there were tons of likes on every one of the photos I posted of my broken leg and most of those were from men who I don’t know in real life.

I was curious so I checked out their pages and every single one of them are men with fetishes for women with broken legs and/or casts. It’s a real thing.

Cast fetish is a kind of fetishism with an erotic concentration on orthopedic casts (plaster, polymer, bandage, etc.) It is usually related to the fetishes of feet, stockings, shoes and amputees. The sufferers usually like the opposite gender wearing casts on their limbs, using crutches, or limping around. Sometimes, socks and stockings will increase the attraction of the afflicted. Basically, these fetishists prefer their partners physically broken and for maximum pleasure, missing limbs.

It’s called a cast fetish.

I’ve never felt so dirty in my entire life. I mean, WTF, the thought of some creepy troll wanking himself to my dislocated ankle is disturbing to say the least. Are these men sadist who get their rocks off from seeing a woman in pain?

Then I realized there is an entire subculture of men with this fetish. In fact, there is porn that actually specializes in this sort of injury. What? I guess it takes all kinds. I won’t judge but I also won’t allow you to file my agony in your spank bank for later use. Sorry, I’ll have to block you.

What’s the weirdest thing you ever heard or saw on social media?

Did you know there was such a thing as a broken leg or cast fetish?

16 comments
8 FacebookTwitterPinterestLinkedinStumbleuponEmail
depression, perspective, friendship, Halloween, leaky eyed ghost

I’ve been experiencing some depression lately due to my broken leg. Really down, the kind where you look up and you see nothing but darkness. For all my issues, I’ve only felt this way 2 other times in my life… The hot mess years that I refer to as my teens and when I had my miscarriage.

Anyone who knows me, like you, knows that I’m a glass half-full kind of broad. Yep, I’m scrappy and a little rough around the edges but it’s a coping mechanism I’ve employed for most of my life. When life serves me a bowl full of rancid, rotten lemons… Chances are, I’m going to share it with you in a funny, anecdotal way that’s going to convince you that I’m going to be alright. I’ll probably even make you smile. I do it to help myself get through it.

I’m not the misery enjoys company sort. There’s enough bad, sad, no good terrible shit in the world. I don’t want to add to it. Plus, I’ve never thought of myself as a victim and I certainly don’t want others to. Nope, I’m a bootstrap girl. I pull myself up and I carry on, in fact, I’ll probably exceed your expectations because that’s just how I roll.

However, I’m human and sometimes when circumstances are beyond my control I can’t be that positive, happy person that I will myself to be. This usually happens when my body and my mind decide to both be broken at the same time. I can handle one or the other, but when it’s both… Sometimes it’s too much.

Thankfully, years of therapy, self awareness and a full capability of knowing when to accept the things I cannot change allows me to sometimes give myself over to it. There are somethings in life that simply demand to be felt, whether we prefer it or not. When this happens, all you can do is decide whether you want to be left destroyed in its wake or if you’re going to move on from the emotional, physical or spiritual hurricane that hits your life.

I’ve been in the midst of a very hard, leaky eyed ghost situation. When I say leaky eyed ghost, I mean that I’m feeling invisible and I’m finding myself crying a lot more than usual. It’s hard for me to get right side up from this injury because, quite frankly, I’m spending a lot of time these days in the vulnerable position of on my back alone with nothing but my thoughts, which have all been negative only ever so slightly peppered with breaks in the sadness.

I’ve been feeling lonely, helpless, useless and afraid. Afraid of the unknown, afraid of how this is affecting my husband and the girls and afraid I won’t fully recover. I’ve been feeling afraid of everything. The worst part is that the entire world is carrying on while I’m just sitting here watching it all, being completely unseen.

It’s very unsettling to feel forgotten and even worse to realize that you could cease to exist and your world would simply carry on without you. The world will not stop to grieve for any of us for very long. It will go on just like it did the day before. That’s a hard, sobering truth to accept. There have been days when all I can do is cry, to feel alive. There are days that I’ve kicked and screamed just to make enough ruckus to remind the people I love that I need to be heard. I need them to stop and, just for a moment, make me the center of their world. I realize it sounds selfish and childish but it’s the only thing to assuage my fear of disappearing and the fear and vulnerability that comes with that.

Sometimes when you’re engulfed in the darkness, a change of scenery can change your entire perspective even if just for a few moments, hours, days… enough to get you to survive. That’s where I’m at as I type this.

My best friend, Niki, and her family are family that we chose. Her and I found each other freshman year of college 23 years ago. We’ve grown up together. We are the keeper of one another’s secrets and our friendship is built on mutual respect, trust and 100% unconditional love. I can tell her, literally, anything and there will never be judgement, second guessing or condemnation. The friendship is simple, unconditional love and complete freedom to be ourselves all of the time. She’s my chosen sister which means we will always love each other, even if one of us does something the other doesn’t particularly like. We love each other enough to respectfully disagree on occasion.

We had a trip planned to visit her and her family on our way back from our fall trip to Disney this past week. We cancelled Disney because I can’t walk but we decided we really needed this trip to soothe our souls. But the day before we left, the kids were arguing constantly, my leg was really hurting from physical therapy and it just seemed like a lot of work lugging a shower chair, wheelchair, a walker and trying to stay comfortable. We were all over extended. The girls were being so bad that the Big guy cancelled the trip but something at my core screamed for help. This trip was our lifeline and we all knew it.

This was my way out of the darkness of my depression.

depression, perspective, friendship, Halloween, leaky eyed ghost

So we loaded into the SUV at 4 am on Thursday and emotionally & physically exhausted we drove east, praying it would all work out but knowing this was our road to salvation, our reprieve from the darkness…it was just enough air to keep the darkness from suffocating and killing us all.

It’s Saturday night and we’ve done nothing extraordinary, other than simultaneously coexist in that comfortable silence that only comes from being around the people who love you for real; not in words and declarations but in actions. The people who know that your heart is heavy, your soul is beaten and your body is weary and they take you into their home and make it yours. The people who love you at your worst and only see the best. Words will never be enough to convey what this friendship means to us. But I’d like to try.

Niki, thank you for always getting me and always loving me no matter what and thank you for such an amazing family that love us just as much as we love you. You are my sister forever and always, nothing can ever change that. I hope someday I can take care of you, the way you’ve taken care of us this past week. You’ve saved us by changing our perspective simply by changing our view. Where I only saw darkness a few days ago, I now see all the beauty, love and blessings that my life is filled with.

Sorry Nik, I know how much you worry about ending up in one of my posts but I had to share with the world how amazing you are 😉 Love you , hermanita!

I never knew a person could experience depression from a broken bone but its real and it’s awful.

3 comments
0 FacebookTwitterPinterestLinkedinStumbleuponEmail
broken leg, bridesmaid down, surgery, broken bones, wedding

It’s hard going from being an able-bodied person to a disabled person but my broken leg has taught me patience and to embrace living with a disability.  This morning I went for my 2-week post op check up. I’m not going to lie. I was a little nervous. I knew the minute that I fell, this was bad. The same way I knew the moment I awoke from surgery and overheard the Big Guy and the surgeon talking about how my injury was so much more extensive than he first thought. There were more pins then originally planned on, bigger screws and 2 plates versus the one we planned for. So, when I went in today, I wasn’t sure what to expect.

I was nervous, for so many reasons. You my husband’s uncle had a bad break a long time ago and now he wears prosthesis. I know other people who broke their leg and never regained full mobility. I know this. It’s in the back of my mind. It scares me to death.

broken leg, disabled, disabled person, living with a disability

I am guaranteed a future filled with arthritis in my ankle. I know this. Right now, I am praying for a full, speedy and complete recovery. I just want to be who I was before the fall, as far as the leg is concerned.

I know that I needed to slow down. My life was a whirlwind and there was no slowing down in sight. I was missing things. I was too involved in the movement and not enough in the people and things happening around me.

This morning, I was terrified. This morning, I put on a brave face, held my breath and went in to get checked. My husband wheeled me in and I felt like this was unfolding as something happening to someone else. I wished it were.

I sat in the cold office, in the sterile room in complete discomfort. My mind was racing. Then the nurse came in and removed the splint. I looked down and almost passed out. Where I expected a 1-2 inch incision there was about a 10-inch incision site. As the nurse removed gauze after bloodied gauze, my heart sank. What the hell happened to me? My positivity was waning.

broken leg, disabled, disabled person, living with a disability

The nurse removed all the bandages and there was my leg, limp and small. It looked sad and feeble. I felt small and disabled. Then we went for x-rays. All I could see were the sutures; my Frankenfoot. It looked like a monster.

Stay positive, Debi. I said to myself. I mean, I know where there is a will there is a way. If I follow all of the directions, keep my foot elevated and iced as I’ve been told and put no weight on it until I am given the go ahead; it has no choice but to heal, right?

broken leg, disabled, disabled person, living with a disability

Then I see the emails, texts and messages all asking the same thing, “But will you have full mobility? Will it function like normal?” Normally, this would not bother me but after being mostly bedridden for 16 days, very emotional and after seeing the unexpectedly large incision, I cried. My heart sank and went to the dark place. What if my leg never works correctly again? What if there is a difference in size. What if I have a limp? What if I lose the leg?

It may all sound completely irrational to you all with your healthy bodies and souls but I am wounded and worse still, I know people who have lost their limbs due to trauma. I know people who’ve never walked right again. I want to be normal again, so, I’m taking it day by day.

I’m trying to see past the nausea, the scar, the recovery time, and the unexpected side effects of severe constipation, exhaustion and weakness. I’m staying positive or was until I was blind sighted by unexpected questions that make me second-guess all of it. Then I find myself crying, sad and feeling defeated.

broken leg, disabled, disabled person, living with a disability

So, while I truly appreciate all of the virtual hugs, heartfelt prayers, well wishes and pep talks, I could do without the question, “Will your leg fully recover?” It upsets me. The answer, so far, is yes. We expect a full recovery. If it turns out otherwise, I’ll keep you posted.

2 comments
0 FacebookTwitterPinterestLinkedinStumbleuponEmail
How a Curb took me Out of My Sister's Wedding and Straight to the ER,broken bones, Wedding, broken leg, wedding day catastrophe, brides maid, maid of honor

Last weekend, I fell off a curb. I know, it sounds hilarious because this is the kind of klutzy antics one might have come to expect if you’ve known me any length of time. I am the girl who is constantly and consistently rolling her ankle because of uneven sidewalks and misplaced, rogue pebbles. Go ahead, laugh. It really is like a cartoon but what happened last Saturday resulted in a severely broken leg and was anything but laughable or funny. Believe it or not, I’m not even being dramatic. I know many of you have been following along on social media because obviously when I’m sedated on painkillers and bedridden, I like to post pictures and updates. This is the story of that one time I fell 6 inches, got a broken leg, and destroyed life as I know it.

How a Curb took me Out of My Sister’s Wedding and Straight to the ER

Saturday, September 12th, my little sister (my best friend) got married. I was the maid of honor. We were looking forward to this moment for a year. She was so happy and I was ecstatic to see her glowing and really, ridiculously and honestly happy. The morning was spent running around picking her dress up and gathering last minute things. I woke her up and serenaded her with a crackly voiced giggling version of Going to the Chapel of Love that only a big sister can sing to a little sister. Then it was the usual excitement and clamor that would fill a house full of women getting ready for a wedding. Above all else, I wanted her to be happy and stress-free. Never could I have imagined that a broken leg and I would be the source of everyone’s stress that day.

READ ALSO: My Real Life is an Actual TikTok trend

Hair and makeup showed up. I busied myself making sure that all the last-minute finishing touches didn’t overwhelm her. I painted her toenails and lotioned her legs. I happily got her some breakfast and something to drink. I didn’t want her to fret over any of it. I just wanted her to enjoy this huge moment of her life. We talked and laughed as she had her hair done. I sat across from her doing my daughters’ hair as her make-up was done and when the time came, I helped to dress my baby sister for the biggest moment of her life. It almost felt religious. I never would have believed that after it was all said and done, a curb would take me out of my sister’s wedding and straight to the ER.

family wedding

As all the chaos and drama began to descend upon us as the house filled more and more with loved ones (as it tends to do), I helped to dress her as the photographer clicked away, capturing every single tear of joy and sigh of relief. We were all in the moment and happy. A broken leg was the furthest thing from anyone’s mind.

broken bones, Wedding, wedding day catastrophe, brides maid, maid of honor

As I stood there taping her into her drop sleeves, I saw the face of my little sister just as she was when she was 6 and I was helping to dress her for her First Communion; still, that little girl looking for reassurance and guidance from her big sister, me still wanting to make everything perfect for her. Eventually, we made it to the venue and I cried at how absolutely stunning she looked as she walked down the aisle. Then she became his wife and it was time to celebrate this amazing moment of true happiness in her life. But before the reception, we had a pit stop at a local park to take wedding pictures; this is where it all went wrong.

 broken bones, Wedding, wedding day catastrophe, brides maid, maid of honor

Minutes before a Curb took me Out of My Sister’s Wedding and Straight to the ER

It was a breezy, gorgeous Saturday in September but we were all hungry and ready to celebrate. We took family photos and then it was time to take wedding party photos. We were losing daylight and the reception was getting ready to start as we hurried through the photo process. Finally, we were all headed back to our cars and to the reception. I was lagging behind, holding my sister’s bouquet and veil, as the photographer was taking more couple shots throughout the park.

READ ALSO: An Unexpected Side Effect of a Broken Leg, Cast Fetishist.

I remember looking back and thinking how beautiful she looked. Then, I decided to head to our where the Big Guy and our girls were already waiting. I looked at the Hummer that was decorated for the wedding that my sister was riding in and then I turned for one last glance at my sister smiling before I took a step down from the sidewalk to the parking lot. My last thought was, God, she really looks happy, and then my foot never landed on the parking lot.

How a Curb took me Out of My Sister's Wedding and Straight to the ER, broken bones, Wedding, broken leg, wedding day catastrophe, brides maid, maid of honor

The Saga of the Maid of Honor’s Broken Leg Begins

In that terrible moment, my right ankle rolled. As it rolled, my left foot came up and tried to catch my balance, however, due to the combo of the wedged flip flops and a too-long dress, it got caught up and instead crashed down. At that moment, I heard the bones break and I felt the ankle dislocate. I was down on my right knee and my left leg was useless. I knew when I felt it that I would not be standing up. The pain was instant and unmistakable. I didn’t even have the strength to sit. I had to push myself over and sort of fall into the wheel (side of the car) of the car to my right.

I looked down and saw my ankle. My left leg was straight but my left foot was facing directly left and the bone was dislocated in such a drastic way that it looked like something you might see in a horror movie. As I scanned up, with all the bridal party and my entire family running to my side as I tried not to pass out from the pain, I saw that I was facing the beautifully decorated wedding vehicle and all I could think was, “Oh God, Please don’t let my daughters see me this way and please don’t let me ruin my sister’s wedding day!”

How a Curb took me Out of My Sister's Wedding and Straight to the ER, broken bones, Wedding, broken leg, wedding day catastrophe, brides maid, maid of honor

My sister was still back in the park a ways getting her photos so she didn’t immediately see what was going on and luckily, my 18-year-old niece ran to the car to sit with my daughters so they never saw my ankle or me crying like a baby because I did. I was in such pain, there was nothing I could do but howl and cry like a baby until the ambulance got there. It felt like forever.

There is nothing quite like maiming yourself in front of literally all of the people that you love; all of my brothers, sisters, parents, nieces, nephews and husband. Everyone was in shock. The sight of impact was horrifying and I’m sure me wailing in pain was nothing short of pathetic and heartbreaking. I remember everyone trying to keep me calm and reassure me that everything was going to be ok but the pain, it was searing and took my breath away.

How a Curb took me Out of My Sister's Wedding and Straight to the ER, broken bones, Wedding, broken leg, wedding day catastrophe, brides maid, maid of honor

I remember my brother and his wife, who have been through broken bones with their athletic children many times, one rubbing my back while my husband told me to look at it. My brother was telling me that, “It’s not that bad, Deb.” He was looking at my right ankle, the scratched and bleeding one that was only severely sprained. My other brother-in-law had covered my ankles in some effort to avert my eyes from fixating on the mangled mess that sat at the bottom of my left leg. To which I responded, “It’s the other one, Mother F*cker (or so he tells me, I don’t quite remember what I said, I was trying to stave off shock which I went into right about the time they had to splint me for the ambulance ride to the hospital).” He almost passed out when he saw the left ankle. It was truly horrifying and just the thought of it right now makes my leg hurt.

How a Curb took me Out of My Sister's Wedding and Straight to the ER, broken bones, Wedding, broken leg, wedding day catastrophe, brides maid, maid of honor

Anyways, eventually the ambulance came and took me away and eventually my sister saw what was happening and ran over through a blockade of people who were trying to stop her. She wanted to come with me to the hospital but I wanted her to have the best wedding ever so I sent her to the wedding along with my children and the rest of my family, except for the Big Guy, I needed him. He is my rock. That man has been a saint since this all happened. I don’t know what I did to get so lucky but he is the most amazing man I have ever met in my entire life.

How a Curb took me Out of My Sister's Wedding and Straight to the ER, broken bones, Wedding, broken leg, wedding day catastrophe, brides maid, maid of honor

And all though breaking my fibula, shattering my tibia, dislocating my left ankle and having to have extensive surgery because the trauma was like that of a car accident and not a trip and even though my cartilage exploded into dust and my right leg is acutely sprained, it’s reminded me of how lucky I am to have the people I love in my life. My husband, my children, my in-laws, my friends, my neighbors, my sister and brothers and my parents are all in. They have rallied around me to pick up the slack and encourage me and pray for me. And you, all of you, your prayers and thoughts have meant so much to me.

I hate that this happened. It has put me on time out of my life for 3 months. My leg has to be elevated and non-weight bearing for 3 months. I’ve had to find rides and for my girls and people to help but it’s really shown me that I have a lot of people who care about me and, in honesty, I needed the break. I was doing too much. I would have never slowed down if it weren’t forced on me. In the end how a curb took me out of my sister’s wedding and straight to the ER is laughable, if traumatic, experience that I will never forget but it reminded me of what is important.

Has a broken leg or any injury ever been a blessing in disguise in your life?

13 comments
1 FacebookTwitterPinterestLinkedinStumbleuponEmail

This website uses cookies to improve your experience. We'll assume you're ok with this, but you can opt-out if you wish. Accept Read More