The Great Toe

Matts wheels
Matt’s knee scooter in September 2013

 

To the average person, it’s the big toe. The little piggy that went to market. To the medical profession it is the Hallux or the “Great Toe.” After three years, Matt is not so sure it is all that great.

In 2011, we were at the beach doing what we always do, frolicking in the water and riding the surf on our boogie boards. At some point, Matt stopped. He was jumping around in pain yelling, “I jammed my toe in the sand!” Well, okay, he had stubbed his right toe or jammed it. Whatever it was, he had hurt his toe pretty good. He limped around for the rest of our stay.

We got home and went on with our lives but the pain in Matt’s toe never really stopped. Bending the toe was a real challenge. So we made an appointment with a podiatrist. He took an x-ray and did not see anything in particular. It was not broken. It was not obviously injured. His theory was that perhaps Matt had jammed it hard enough to have a bone bruise, which takes a long time to resolve. We’d have to wait. We went home no closer to resolving the problem.

He began having trouble wearing shoes because they pinched his toe. The inside of his toe, that spot where you slide in the toe grabber on a flip flop, was sensitive even to touch

He went to another podiatrist who had no real idea why his toe hurt. He thought he might have a bunion problem. He thought he might have tendinitis in his toe joint. He thought he might have turf toe. Whatever it was, he created a shoe insert that would prevent his toe from bending in an impactful way. We searched and found new shoes that gave him some toe room. These were not fashionable shoes, but your basic black, orthopedic person-with-foot-problem shoes. They were tennis shoes in style, but black and neutral enough that he could wear them to work and even with suits. He hated being unfashionable but he had no choice.

By this time he was on pain pills that kept the pain at bay but did not really stop it. The insert kind of helped but did not really make the pain go away either. When he walked he favored his right foot causing him to put more stress on his left. Then one day, his left ankle began to hurt. He was double limping. The podiatrist took an x-ray. He ordered an MRI. Matt had torn the peroneal tendon in his ankle. This tendon is a stabilizer, responsible for making sure your ankle doesn’t bow out or roll. This is often injured if you twist your ankle.

In March 2012, now almost a year to the date of his injury and a week before we moved to our new house, he had surgery to repair the tendon. He had to be on crutches for several weeks. He went to therapy, he wore an ankle brace, and did all the right things. But for some reason, the ankle continued to hurt. The doctor thought the pain would go away with time and he encouraged Matt to wait it out.

Now that his ankle was repaired, we went back to trying to fix his toe. The doctor really did not know why it hurt. He thought it was tendinitis but it was not clear what was causing it. He focused in on a small bone at the bottom of the toe called the sesamoid (not the same as the sesamoid on the bottom of big toe joint). He thought this tiny pea size bone might be rubbing on the tendon. He also thought that some of the pain was coming from a bone spur on the big toe knuckle itself. So he proposed to remove the sesamoid and shave off the bone spur and in October of 2012, Matt had another surgery. He was once again on crutches for a while, then special shoes, then finally, therapy.

After months of treatment and two surgeries, his left ankle was still hurting and the surgery on the right toe did nothing to relieve the pain.

When you walk, the bottom of your foot sort of rolls and your big toe bends at the bunion as you move along. The bending became incredibly painful and he was having trouble walking long distances.

Matt was also living in an ankle boot to protect his ankle. He was more comfortable when it was stable. He was using a cane and limping along in a boot. It was almost as if it had either gotten worse, or certainly had not improved at all.

By the beginning of 2013, we decided to think outside the box. We went to a doctor specializing in more cutting edge treatments like platelet rich plasma (prp) injections to calm and heal the tendons in the toe. The doctor removed more bone spurs. He injected various remedies in various spots around his ankle. None of it provided any relief. At one point using ultrasound on Matt’s ankle he said he saw a lot of scar tissue and he could see the suture wire that was used to repair the tendon. He mentioned something about this particular suture being known for tearing soft tissue. He was just guessing but he felt that this could be a source of much of Matt’s ankle issues. But he knew of no way to get rid of that suture. It was not going to dissolve. It was made of a polymer wire and he had never heard of surgery to remove it. By now, this doctor was pretty much out of ideas.

It was the middle of 2013 and we determined to move on to what I considered the Lourdes of ankle and foot repair—the Foot and Ankle Institute in Baltimore. If these people did not know what was wrong with Matt’s toe and ankle, then no one would.

As it turns out, this doctor had no idea what was wrong with Matt’s toe. We had been through every option she could think of. The MRI revealed nothing. One option was that a very small tendon was torn but that was inoperable.

The ankle could be fixed. She was pretty certain that an MRI would show that his ankle surgery had “failed” and he would need to have the surgery done all over again. But this time it was even more complicated. Now two tendons were torn and one was torn so badly, she was pretty sure she would have to remove a large part of it and attach what was left to an adjacent tendon, a procedure called “tenodesis.”

We scheduled the surgery and in September 2013, Matt had the ligatures in his ankle reconstructed. She had warned us that this was a complex surgery and the recovery would be very long. No weight bearing for twelve weeks. We bought him a leg scooter. These are contraptions that allow a person to get around by pushing along with one foot, the healing leg resting on the scooter, going along for a ride. We set up a ramp to a side door in the garage so he could get in and out of the house. Because our stairs are winding and narrow, the only way he could get up and down the stairs was to scoot on his butt.

While the doctor was performing the reconstruction, she made a startling discovery. During the first surgery, a major nerve had been caught in a stitch. The doctor freed the nerve during the reconstruction, but it had been trapped for over a year. Matt had been experiencing shooting pains in his ankle and this would certainly have explained why. She directed us to a peripheral nerve surgeon. We have something called peripheral nerves, which give us sensation in our periphery—the arms, legs, hands and feet. These nerves are often the main drivers of pain and they have surgical techniques to relieve that pain by removing the nerves. The idea was to see if he could do anything to de-enervate the nerve. By that I mean, stop the nerve from working and sending pain signals. This doctor was skeptical from the start and said there was nothing he could do about the pain. He was not convinced the toe pain was from a damaged nerve and he felt that doing anything about the ankle was premature.

We reported back and the ankle surgeon suggested we wait to see if the nerve would rebound. So we waited. It did not get better. If anything, the shooting pains increased. At this point, she had no recommendations. For the toe, she believed that if the pain was caused by a torn tendon or ligament, it was not something she could do anything about. It would require microsurgery and she had never heard of such surgery on a toe tendon. For the ankle, she had no idea what to do. She had hoped the pain would resolve and the nerve would recover but it didn’t.

We had exhausted her as someone who might solve Matt’s pain.

But she had said something that intrigued me. If the toe ligament was damaged and repairing it would be micro-surgery, what if I found a micro-surgeon? I started searching the internet for micro-surgeons. Micro-surgeons perform delicate surgery that involves very complex reconstruction. These are the guys who will sew your finger back on if you cut it off. Many are plastic surgeons.

I found a website and emailed a doctor in California. I explained Matt’s plight and asked him if he thought there was anything that could be done. He answered almost immediately telling me that one of the best micro-surgeons in the country was up the street in Baltimore and he could probably help.

So I called. This surgeon pioneered a technique to relieve trapped nerves and in many cases, he has worked to resolve pain and damaged nerves by removing them. He was kind of a kooky guy and he insisted that we see his orthopedic surgeon/podiatrist to be sure there were no options from that perspective. We did and the doctor confirmed that we had tried everything possible.

Then we learned something that puts terror in the hearts of all Americans—the micro-surgeon did not take insurance. We would have to pay. If we could not, we could see his younger associate, also a micro-surgeon, to see if he could help.

The doctor, Eric Williams, felt that this would work for the toe and he agreed to do the surgery. We were absolutely relieved. The doctor removed the nerve that serves the great toe, the superficial peroneal nerve. This nerve goes straight to the big toe from the calf. As part of the surgery, the end of the nerve is buried in muscle to protect it, so the surgical opening was made in the shin. And hallelujah, it kind of half worked. Some of his toe is numb and some of the pain was gone. But not all.

Nerves are funny things. They are webs in our body and they can grow, like tentacles, into areas where they sense something might be wrong in the communication between brain and body part. The other funny thing about nerves is that it is not always easy to tell where pain is coming from. While the doctor had blocked the nerves ahead of time to test which nerves needed attention, that test did not reveal all.

For some reason, another nerve appears to have branched into the toe area to give signals to a part of the toe. Even worse, Matt could now clearly feel sharp pain in the area where the first podiatrist had done the surgery to shave bone from the bunion. So another nerve has to be removed to cut off the sensation to the bunion and the toe. We are awaiting that surgery.

In the mean time Matt’s ankle needed attention. The shooting pains were increasing and he was having trouble walking pain free. The ankle surgeon suggested we talk to the micro-surgeon and we did. He was surprised that the nerve had been caught in a stitch and he assured us that after all this time, it was not coming back. Those jolts of pain were signs that the nerve was damaged.

Matt headed into more nerve surgery, this time to remove the sural nerve, which feeds into the ankle and that was stitched during the first ankle surgery. The sural nerve is in the calf and goes down to below the ankle joint. Again the surgeon had to remove the nerve and bury it in a muscle. So he started a little below the back of the knee and buried it deep in the calf muscle. Matt’s outside calf is now numb. This surgery seems to have done the trick. The shooting pains are slowly dissipating and he is in much less pain.

There will be more to come. Another nerve to the toe needs to be removed and there is some residual pain emanating from the ankle that is likely tendinitis from walking funny for years. We hope these will clear up.

So that is the long tale of Matt’s Great Toe and the side kick, the pain-in-the-ankle. And this is why our life seem different than it was before. We are a little consumed with the world of medicine.

 

 

Post script:

During this time, Matt really wanted to try and help out.  Here he is putting away his laundry.  I guess head transport is one way to take care of it.

 

matt does laundry

May 3 – The Sheep and Wool Festival

sheep#3

This is probably one of our favorites.  This is a festival for everything sheep and wool.  The largest on the east coast.  Knitters, spinners, and shepherds.  Sheep dog herding, sheep shearing, and lots of lamb to eat. Lots of lamb to buy, sheep cheese, sheep skin, sheep, sheep, sheep.

Every year we go and pat the sheep on their head while they pant in their little pens.  They bleat, they sleep, they lie about.  Some are sheared, most are not.  They are for sale, for breeding, for eating, for wool production.  If I had the chance, I’d make sheep my photo subject of choice.  I love their color, their textures, their faces.  The personalities are numerous.  We bought lamb shanks, sheep skin slippers, and cheese.  What more could a person want?  Unfortunately we just missed the dogs showing off their skills but we did see a sheep parade, trying to determine best in show.  Here are some of my favorites.

sheep#1

 

sheep#2

 

sheep#4

 

 

 

It rained…and Neptune came calling

A torrential rain fell.  They said it was going to be biblical and it was.  We had tickets to see the Pirates play the Orioles.  Maryanne and Jim came down.  Todd was coming. But it rained and it rained and it rained.  Not a little.  It was coming down like someone had a gigantic fire hose aimed at the earth.  The game was cancelled but we decided we would at least go out to dinner.

Before we left I had a thought to check the sump pump.  It has never run the entire time we have lived here.  it has always been bone dry.  I opened it and to my surprise I discovered it was full.  The water was cresting.  Water was pouring in and the pump was not operating at all.  The motor was making a whirring sound but it was the sound of a dying pump.  It had no power to move the water.  I ran to get the shop vac so we could at least empty out the water well.  We filled the 20-gallon vacuum about three times but we had to go to dinner.  We called the plumber but he was out of town.  He said he could help us if we wanted to wait.  We did because we trust him.  So we left and kept our fingers crossed.

We went to dinner for all the meat you can eat at Fogo de Chao.  The food was actually pretty good but I am not a big beef fan.  The lamb was good, the chicken was good, the pork was good.  And it is all you can eat so we were stuffed.

We finally headed home, the rain still coming down.  When we got home, the pump was cresting again but even worse, rain was leaking through the basement window.  A drain in the window well had clogged and the water was backing up.  I ran outside and found the well was full of leaves.  The water was a good eight inches deep.  I used a rake to  clear the debris.  The frogs living in the well were not happy and they jumped around as I poked in with the rake.  When I cleared the window well drain, water streamed into the sump pump even faster.  It was filling about every 15 minutes.  We’d suck out the water, dump it in the basement bathroom shower, thank God for that convenience, and take it back for another load.

We manned the shop vac until well into the morning.  Matt tried to nap between vacuuming.  I just went about my business.  Soon it took a half hour for the well to fill, then longer.  The rain slowed down and the water flowing into the sump pump finally ebbed to a slow trickle at around 3 a.m.  It was still coming in. I figured it might take an hour or more to fill the well again.  I told Matt I did not care.  I was going to bed and if Neptune wanted to flood my basement, then so be it.  I would take the chance that the water flow would eventually end.

We got up around ten a.m. and the water well was full but it had not overflowed.  The rain had moved out, the storm system leaving seven inches in its wake.  It was a hell of a lot of water.  All I can say is that I am glad that we don’t live at the very bottom of the hill.  I cannot imagine how much water flowed into my neighbor’s basement.

The plumber came the next day and installed a new pump.  We are safe for now.  Until Neptune decides to give me the water treatment again.

Dear Bird Store Owners – Geeze, Lighten Up!

Dear Bird Store Owners:

I usually do all of my shopping on the internet but there are some things that simply seem more practical and fun to buy in a store.  As a general rule, I love to visit the bird store.  There are supplies and fun things–jewelry,  flags, fountains, stuff with birds on them like mugs and such.  I just like to wander around and check things out.

But bird store owners, you are really making me reconsider.  I tried a new store in Rockville.  I wanted to get a feeder that would make it harder for the squirrels to get the food.  I don’t want to completely stop them because they are fun to watch and I find a bit of joy in yelling at them and scaring them off.  We play a game, the squirrels and I.  They are clever.  I try to outsmart them.  I can’t and we keep at it.

At this bird store some creepy guy working at the store did not see the humor in squirrels at all.  He announced quite seriously that,  “Squirrels can be stopped.”  He sounded like he had a vendetta.  He hated them.  It was palpable.  I just kind of scoffed and said, oh, come on.  But no, he said if I wanted to stop them, I could.  I was laughing about how I put PAM spray on the poles so they could not climb.  It is hilarious watching them slide down the pole in utter amazement and puzzlement.  They soon figured out some other way but it is fun to watch them thinking it through.  They are not really destructive.  They are just really, really hungry all the time.  He did not think this was funny at all.  He said with a sneer, “And how long does that last?”  Hey buddy, lighten up!

So I went to a different bird store.  They had a sign out front that said they had blue bird boxes.  Okay.  I wondered if I could put out a box.  I have been to this store before and stopped going because this store owner is in a perpetual bad mood.  But I figured I’d give it another try.  That was a mistake.  Everyone else in the store seems fine but on this visit he was training a new cashier and he was impatient and at times rude to her.  That relationship did not seem long term.

When I asked about the blue birds,  he growled at me, “You need to live with open fields.”  Okay, that is not really me.  Then he went off about sparrows and how they were an invasive species that need to be cleaned from the face of the earth.  Apparently, they will nest in blue bird boxes if the boxes are not built and placed properly.  Boxes need to have a hole opening small enough that sparrows cannot enter but blue birds can. See this discussion.    But one does have to ask, at what point are sparrows no longer an invasive species?  Sparrows have been here for over 100 years.  They are here to stay and our native birds need to get Darwinian on them and evolve to handle them.  We are not going to make them go away.  Not by a long shot.  So can’t we all just live together?

At this point, I do not want to go back to either of these stores, my choices being creepy guy or angry guy.   Maybe it is time to try the internet.

 

 

March 28 – 31 – Pittsburgh

Bats#1
Fruit bats at National Aviary

On a whim we decided to buy tickets to see the Penguins play Chicago.  It was our last chance to see the Pens at home.  So we packed up the car and headed north.

On Friday night we had dinner at Lidia’s. The food was great. Tragically, Franco was not working so we had to muddle through on the wine selection.  We missed him.

Saturday was a free day since the game was Sunday afternoon.  It was a rainy day and Matt cannot walk far.  We did a bit of shopping in the Strip District, mostly Italian food.  We found the espresso at La Prima and it was indeed prima.  Still raining we drove over to the National Aviary.  We saw the fruit bats being fed, the penguins being fed, and the rest of the birds just hanging out doing what birds do.  It was a good way to waste an afternoon.

I am a sucker for one man shows so we bought tickets to see “An Iliad.”  It was interesting but after two glasses of wine at dinner, and in that warm dark theater, I was having trouble keeping my eyes open.   (Note to self: never eat at the restaurant in the Renaissance again).

Finally, Sunday! After brunch with Matt’s friend Cindy and her husband, we drove around my old neighborhood in Oakland.  Both apartment buildings I lived in during college were still there.  The laundromat and the bar we went to while our clothes were washing and drying was still there too.  For gosh sakes, the old Luna bar was still there.   Quite unbelievable.  Thirty years made no difference.

There was a really awesome art installation at the Carnegie Art Museum and we stopped to get a closer look:

museum#2

 

museum#1

 

Now the day of hockey reckoning.  We had an early dinner at Mercato, the meatball restaurant.  What a dream.  A restaurant dedicated to meatballs.  That certainly is my dream.  I am a sucker for meatballs, too.

Then on to the game.  Chicago had whipped our butts at the Winter Classic and I sure wanted revenge.  We got it.  The Pens overpowered them Hawks.  It was great to see.

The next day was opening day for the Pirates.  As we emerged from the hotel to head to Starbucks, the streets were already  crowded.  It was all we could do to behave and not go to the game.  We could have gone.  Tickets were begin scalped.  But we had to get home.  If we had stayed we would not have gotten home until very late and we had to get up for work.  Boooo.

That really hurt.  We are never good.  We always go with  the spontaneous fun, not what we “should” do.  But this time, I said no.  It was sad.  We don’t like being good.

 

 

 

March 25 – Snow

The total of snow I measured in my back yard since January is 49 inches.  This is way over the top for us.  Today we were supposed to get a coating, we got 3 inches.  Please make it stop.  Seriously.  It needs to go away.

March 22 – Redoing the Garden

 

And I tore it out with my bare hands! Bwahahahaha.  (and a saw and hammer and lots of karate kicks for fun)
And I tore it out with my bare hands! Bwahahahaha. (and a saw and hammer and lots of karate kicks for fun)

When we bought this house there was one big selling point: a really adorable English garden in the backyard with a picket fence, surrounded by a hedge of roses, and very neat raised beds.  Two years later we  know that the garden floods in a heavy rain.  I had rotten potatoes, rhubarb and fava beans to prove it.  The raised beds are too wide  and cannot be entirely reached from the pathways which are  too small  to stand in or to work effectively.  The roses are not disease resistant and need far more chemicals than I am willing to apply, and the fence is entirely rotten.

I decided that the location and aura were simply not conducive to my having a successful and peaceful garden, and by that I mean one that I do not swear at.  So I am ripping it out and starting over.

There will be a small frog pond to take care of the water flooding.  It will be landscaped with perennial grasses and plants and  new garden boxes, higher and narrower will be placed far from the water course.

Today I started ripping out the fence.

fence#2
Lichen eating away at the fence

 

March 21 – Matt’s Birthday

Matt is a spring baby.  Dinner at RIS was part of his present.  I also bought tickets to see Chvrches in April.  He loves them.  Me?  They’re okay.  We also picked out a new suit.  He looks quite dashing.

March 20 – Kennedy Center

Another world play at the Kennedy Center, we saw a one man puppet show titled, “Penny Plain.”

Before the show we had dinner at RIS–trout panna cotta (Lordy, that was good) chicken pistachio terrine, and homemade sauerkraut, kielbassi, and pierogis.  One of the chefs is Polish and he concocted this.  I declared it good.

Penny Plain, or as I called it, tales of the coming apocalypse, featured marionettes all handled by one man, Ronnie Burkett, a master puppeteer from Canada.  The story centered around an old woman and the residents of her boarding house in the days leading up to the end of the world, Mad-Max style.  It was an interesting story but as I watched it, I realized I really do not believe in the apocalypse.  I do not see a moment in time when the world goes mad and armed gangs roam the roads fighting over food and water.  I don’t see a time of pandemic annihilation and panic in the streets.  So while I appreciated the cast of characters, I just did not buy into the story itself.

 

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March 16 – 17 – Snow

Seriously?  Okay.  I am sick to death of this snow thing.  We would normally have blooming forsythia and daffodils this time of year.  We got nothing.

On Sunday, the snow gave me time to putter.  I made another soup–bulgur and greens with poached eggs.  I love adding poached eggs to a dish.  Want a great salad, try an egg on top.  Sounds weird but really good.

On Monday, we woke to ten inches of snow.  I can really understand why people up north just pack it in and move south.  I just need the snow to go away now.  Matt was home sick.  I shoveled the driveway and then went up the street to cross-country ski around the football field.  It was a gorgeous sunny day and I still remember how to ski.  I made a Belgian endive, cheese and ham casserole in honor of the wintry day.

 

March 15

I started working on the yard today.  The previous owners had a real love of boring plants.  If the plant was green only, then they planted it.  There are hedges and bushes everywhere that do nothing.  I like bushes that do things.  They had planted some boxwood type bushes around the mail box.  I tore them out and planted heather.  Nice pink flowers in the early spring and deer do not eat them.

Matt is sick so I went to A&J’s for some soup, our new favorite comfort food.  Then we watched Nebraska, an Oscar nominated film with Bruce Dern.  I was never a big fan of his, but he did well in this movie, playing an old man who is slowly losing his memory.  He takes a road trip with his son to cash in a prize that has come in the mail.  He did not really win anything but his son cannot seem to convince him otherwise.  So off they go to collect the prize.

There are going to be a lot of movies about Alzheimer’s disease in the coming years.  Having already lived through it, I have now come out on the other side.  I can sympathize but I don’t weep any longer.

The Suit

The Kennedy Center is having a month long series  called the World Stages Festival.  We bought tickets to a few of the plays.  Tonight we saw “The Suit.”  Based on a short story by a South African writer, a man discovers his wife is having an affair.   Her lover leaves his behind suit and as punishment, her husband makes her treat the suit as an honored guest.  The suit sits down to dinner, she dances with it, they take it for a walk.  All to remind her of her infidelity.  Soon the wife comes to appreciate her husband and she seeks his forgiveness.  But he fails to recognize the change in her and he continues to torment her.

The scenery was minimalist  but the acting, particularly that of the wife was perfect.  The best part–the play was short.  A little over an hour.  And for us, that was perfect.

March 4 – Mardi Gras

Matt works on the drinks
Matt works on the drinks

We decided to have a Mardi Gras dinner this year.  We invited Armand over for chicken jambalaya, collards and king cake.  We have not seen him for a long time. He keeps us informed on how single people live.  I got a recipe from Emeril’s website for an interesting Mardi Gras drink–Cajun Storm, which was a mixture of rum, lemon juice, passion fruit juice and grenadine.  Quite tasty.

March 3 – It snowed

… again.  Five inches.  I am so over this snow thing.  I have certainly learned that I do not want to live in a place where winter sticks around.

March 1 – Raclette Dinner

I have been in the mood to feed people so we had some folks over for raclette, the Swiss cheese party.  It involves melting raclette cheese and serving it with specific accoutrements such as cornichions, boiled potatoes, braesceolo, and pickled onions.  We served it with Belgian beer and Austrian wines.  Thanks for coming folks.