I got the Kobe.

While I was home, with the best company and the best food a girl could ask for, my mom thought it would be a good idea to get a second opinion on my ankle. So we went to the hospital here (since my mom pretty much knows everyone that works there), and a family friend who's a doctor took a look at it.   He said it looked like it was a partial tear (but at that time it was so swollen, I don't think anyone could really tell just by looking at it). He also said that these days, research has shown that non-operative and operative methods lead to the same result in healing and that surgery may not be necessary.  He suggested to start physio right away (which was not a very good idea in hindsight).  I hadn't even had an ultrasound/MRI done yet or received an exact diagnosis of the injury.  Regardless, I went to 2 sessions of physio where she kneaded the muscles from my ankle upwards my calf and used a therapeutic ultrasound machine on it.  I don't think it really helped me much...

On Friday, June 21st, I had my ultrasound appointment at the hospital down in Toronto, where I originally went to emergency.  So my boyfriend drove me down again (thank you for being there for me through all of this!).  First, we got my ultrasound images taken and then went to the fracture clinic appointment that I also had scheduled to see the specialist. The first thing he asked me to do was flip over on my stomach and he squeezed both of my calf muscles to see the reaction my feet would have.  He knew immediately with that simple test that it was a complete rupture of my Achilles' tendon and he said he didn't even need an ultrasound. If you squeeze the calf muscle and there is no response from your foot, then you know it's ruptured.  He was quite upset that emergency didn't handle the injury the way they were supposed to, saying that they should have contacted the fracture clinic that night to take a look at it and it could have been treated immediately.  Apparently, if my ankle was put in a cast the night of the injury with my toes pointed down, I wouldn't have had to have surgery.  However, because too much time had passed since the time of injury, my only option (if I wanted to get back to a level of playing sports or being active) was to go through with surgery.  He said he would give me time to think about it and call me later that day.  

He called the next day and surgery was scheduled immediately for the following day. 

I was told not to eat anything after 8pm and wait for a call in the morning to find out what time to come in.

On Sunday morning, I got a call from the hospital around 9am to be there within the next hour and a half.  My boyfriend took me to the hospital where we were put in a room and proceeded to wait there for endless hours on end. I got my very first IV put in (which sucked big time) and I was starving, nervous, anxious, and in pain and finally around 5-6pm, they came to get me for the surgery.  My mom was still on the way down from up north so I didn't get to see her before I went in.

When we got to the OR floor, the anesthesiologist told me I had two options to be put out during surgery.  The first was the general method, where they put me under and put a breathing tube down my throat.  The second was similar to an epidural, where I get an injection in my lower back and everything below the waist goes completely numb and I would also get another drug to put me into a deep sleep through the operation.  He recommended the latter as he suggested had a few less negative side effects.  So that's what I chose.
I got wheeled into the operation room and it was definitely not what I pictured it would be (maybe I've watched too much Grey's Anatomy).  Anyways, it was extremely bright and an iPod was playing music on a dock.  The anesthesiologist pumped my IV with what he called the "apple martini" drug, which was supposed to make me feel happy, less anxious, and very much out of it.  Then they sat me up and I'm not really sure if they put the injection in my back at that point or if it was after I rolled myself over onto the operating bed. All I can really remember is rolling myself over onto my stomach and he told me to get comfortable and I passed out.

I woke up in Recovery and was feeling really out of it. I think I asked the nurse some random questions and was laughing...I can't really remember.  I do remember being extremely itchy though, all over. It was probably the effects of the anaesthetic. After lying there for what seemed to be a short time, they took me back to the room. I'm not quite sure a lot of what happened here and there.  But my boyfriend did take some videos of me (upon my request), I just haven't really watched them. Not ready to relive it just yet.

Once the numbing started to wear off, it was probably the most pain I could have ever imagined.  I stayed in the hospital overnight and my boyfriend and mom couldn't stay with me so they were going to come back early in the morning.  Throughout the night, the pain was so ridiculous.  I would ask the nurse for more painkillers but it was always too soon.  The painkillers were barely effective for 2 hours. They alternated between giving me 2 percs to giving me a drip of diluted morphine (I think it was).  I also experienced a severe bout of nausea and was sweating up a storm from the pain as I tried to use the bathroom at one point.

My mom and boyfriend returned early in the morning and now the dilemma was: "How am I going to survive a 5 and a half hour drive up to my parent's place".  I couldn't stay at my place in Toronto because there are way too many stairs so I had no other option.  Thankfully, with my bright idea and my mom and boyfriend putting the idea into motion, I managed to find a comfortable way to transport up north in my car.