Life with CMT: When he left, I yelled, “Break a Leg!” So he did. 🤦‍♀️

We’re back! Yohan yelled, sliding the door to the garage open. I noticed he was walking funny, not CMT funny, but like he had a stiff leg, a heavy foot, an injured limb? My perplexed look begged the question… What now?

He brushed off my concern, acting if I were being overly paranoid and concerned (like usual). “We had a great ride and of course, on the last mile, I was tired and I took a spill. I just sprained my ankle… and…well my elbow is banged up. Oh…. and sharp stick pierced the palm of my hand when I hit the ground, but overall, I’m fine. It’ll be better in a couple of days, he said, limping down the hallway.”

After a hot shower and short rest, I took a look at the damage. “My ankle is hardly swollen,” he insisted. I pointed out that the last time I had looked at his ankle, I could see a prominent ankle bone. Now it looked puffy and bloated, as if a small jelly fish had snuck in there and took up residence. So, the crutches came out of the closet, along with the sickening memories of past orthopedic surgeries, months and months of plaster casts, pain, boots, stinky feet, scars, blood and sores.

Our bald kitties ran across the hardwood floor to greet him, but one look at the clanking crutch made them hit the brakes and off they went sliding uncontrollably, face planting into the wall. Thank God the cats make us laugh!

Recognizing the all too familiar clunk, thud, clunk, thud of Yohan’s footsteps as he made his way across the room, I too wanted to hit my head against the wall, cursing CMT to eternity and back.

Yohan’s had so many trips, falls, ankle sprains and surgeries, he knew the drill. No, not RICE. We changed that acronym to RICED. Rest. Ice. Compression. Elevation. Drugs…can’t forget the Tylenol, Aleve, etc.

There wasn’t a lot of pain, but by Monday, Yohan intuitively knew he’d better get it checked out by his doctor. This was the foot on which he has had 2 reconstructive surgeries, with mediocre results.

When the films were placed on the viewing pane, there were a lot of aahs and oohs. His x-rays lit up the room like lights on Christmas tree. The techs were amazed at the hardware holding his foot together. But who was the jokester who took a pen and drew a fine line across the outer leg bone?

Diagnosis? A hairline fracture of the fibula requiring 2 months in a walking boot, 24/7, except to bathe. Ugh. Well, it could have been worse, but it still sucks.

Home we went, trying to wrap our heads around the news. The first order of business was to purchase an even-up foot riser to avoid throwing his opposing hip out of joint. He learned pretty quickly that the even-up foot risers are treacherous as they get caught on everything…..even air. The utmost caution is warranted. And if you don’t catch the edge of the foot riser on something, the cats will make sure you fall…..hard.

Walking on 2 CMT feet is tough. Put one of those in a boot and now balance on one very high-arched foot, whose toes curl in and up, and sprinkle in some ankle supination (outward turning ankle). Not for the faint of heart!

Next, he looked for additional boot liners. Seriously, they send you home with 1 boot with liner. The “hand wash only” liner smells like death after the foot is enclosed within its sweaty fabric for only 24 hours. Yohan ordered a second boot (the lux version of the same brand) so he could wash the liner every other day. Luckily, when a piece of the plastic from the first boot started digging into his heel, he had a cushy alternative.

The pain from the fracture was bearable, but he started to get a painful pressure sore on the bottom of his foot which thankfully abated when slipping his orthotic into the boot. The first several nights sleeping with the boot were tough, but gradually his body got used to the inconvenience.

This morning, he woke up with a smile!! He was celebrating his 2 weeks down, six weeks to go in a boot! He’s a glass half full kind of guy.

Taking a step back, here are my reflections:

Yohan’s new electric mountain bike offered a rainbow of opportunity, where, for the first time in quite a long while, Yohan could just be one with his friends, his dad, and his people. He did some pretty amazing rides, going places and seeing things not seen before. And these days are not gone, just suspended for a short period of time. Not the end of the world, but a bummer all the same.

I guess we all have ups and downs. Personally, I prefer the ups, but don’t we all? I believe the ups build experience and self-esteem and the downs build strength of character. And then there are all the in-betweens. Every emotional state –happiness, sadness, anxiety, fear, anger – is transient, so accepting the peaks and valleys with calm and acceptance makes each situation a little easier to handle.

Life’s highs and lows are an inevitable part of being alive, so I try to enjoy the highs, learn from the lows and experience everything else in between with an open heart. I know….easier said than done.

Yohan will get through this small setback. It will become a faint but unforgettable memory that will be part of his ongoing arsenal when dealing with upcoming challenges, setbacks and successes. He’ll get back on that bike…of this I’m sure. Why? Yohan is no stranger to adversity.

He’s not giving up or giving in. He’s found an activity he thoroughly enjoys, an activity which is exhilarating and fun, creating long-lasting memories of freedom and adventure. Also, he’s determined to cycle in the Cycle 4 CMT event with his Uncle Chris, his dad and maybe even me! The Cycle 4 CMT (in person or virtual) is so much more than a cycling event……It’s a celebration of strength, resilience and community.

Want to know more about the Cycle (and Walk!) 4 CMT? www.cycle4cmt.com

Join us in the spirit of uniting with like-minded people, to fund research to put a stop to CMT. There is no cure for CMT… yet. But there will be because we, our CMT warriors, friends, family, loved ones, are going to make it happen. Grateful, so grateful for our community. Xo