I’ve Walked On A Ruptured Achilles Tendon For Over A Year

I don’t want to share a picture of my ankle, so here’s one of Nyxie’s recent gifts to us. We gave it back, but she is so sweet. She’s my kitten.

One of the things I learned at my appointment at UCSF was that the failure for my right Achilles tendon to respond to one if the normal reflex triggers is because the tendon ruptured. I’ve been walking on a ruptured Achilles tendon for over a year. An injury I shouldn’t be able to walk on because for most people it should be too painful. I’ve been walking on it normally for over a year.

Having very high tolerance to pain is a strange thing. It’s not that I don’t feel the injury. My brain compartmentalizes sensations – tells me what can and can’t be extreme, therefore I shouldn’t worry about it. That funny feeling in my ankle? Well, it got a little red, but it never got super swollen. It never got “yo, your tendon is torn and needs to be surgically repaired, so stop using it.” I figured I was getting repeat minor sprains in my ankle.

But I’m not alone. Others have reported not feeling pain associated with the injury, even with full ruptures that render the ankle more severely damaged than mine. Professional athletes have made winning plays with this injury, completely unawares.

It explains why I kept rolling my ankle unintentionally and strengthening exercises weren’t helping to prevent it from happening on that side. My father is known for having the same kind of pain tolerance.

The same doctor that discovered this performed my lumbar puncture for my CSF analysis and donation. Even though I have high pain tolerance, it took longer than expected and more lidocaine than expected to numb the area for needle insertion between L3/4 (or was it L4/5?). Given I am also known for waking up during surgeries and remembering everything, I’m not bothered by it.

So I now have an acute awareness of having ruptured my right Achilles’ tendon in June 2019 and I’ve been walking on it this whole time. The pain has started to creep into the functional peripheries of my day from what was once just a “kind of weird off feeling.”

The more I walk on it, the more I realize that by the end of every day I can’t walk on it. I’ve been doing barre, running, going to the gym, climbing, hiking, gardening, carrying small children, and so much more while punishing myself for not being able to do more. For some reason I unconsciously convinced myself my ankle injury was “all in my head.”

That’s the update. My ankle hurts now – that level of awareness hit last night like a loony tunes piano and now I’m staying off of it. Doctor appointment over the phone on Monday to discuss. It doesn’t hurt if I don’t walk on it, so I’m not walking on it.

Sorry for the boring update. Stay tuned. Next week Jacob and I plan to release a series of joint posts we’ll be writing together and scheduling this weekend. One of which is a 2020 review of The Matrix. My 1917 Kodak camera finally arrived and can confirm that the lenses are fully intact for that upcoming post. The other is a detailed discussion of long haul road tripping in an electric car while socially isolating and trying not to get covid using the United States charging network. The posts I’m looking forward to most actually involve videos and write ups on The Radiator and Jacob introducing some exciting news around our adventures in lasers.

I’m not hyperlinking because the above is a teaser for those that made it through me bitching about my ankle.

pew pew pew

Ruminations on “Weightless Again” by The Handsome Family

The Song In That Letter

In the letter you sent
You tried to explain to me–
I couldn’t understand. You
Tried to condense
Fifteen years of unspoken
Words into
A song you said
I needed to know
Why you floated–
Why you made your
Choices and broken
Promises

The Castro We Knew – A Poem

Yesterday, Jacob and I drove through our old neighborhood in San Francisco after my UCSF appointment before we started our drive back to Montana to quarantine for 2 weeks. While we couldn’t see anyone in person, I wanted to see the city that stole a part of me. What we saw? My heart breaks for the communities I love.


The Castro We Knew

Rainbow crosswalks sleep
Beneath COVID covered streets.
Storefronts beg we stand together
While standing six feet apart

What happened to our promised land?
These parklets – empty squatters
Where free STD clinic vans once sat
The city lost interest – no tourists; no hands

Our silent ghost town of glitter —
Toxic smoke settling
Into a matte finish over
All we once thought was gold


You can help support The Castro of San Francisco and help it survive by shopping Castro Merchants, supporting the San Francisco LGBT Center, and donating money to keep the GLBT Historical Society (operating the Harvey Milk Memorial) operating during the COVID-19 shutdowns. If you can’t donate, you can start conversations about this special place needing assistance and share these websites with friends and family. Every little bit helps.

Sage Flowers – A Poem

Sage Flowers

The desert is painted
Sage brushed hues
–Purples and blues
Emerging from ephemeral
Stream beds and rivers
Echoing wind currents
Of flowing cloud covered skies
–Just close your eyes
Follow the songs of
Rattling herbaceous leaves
Blowing in the breeze
These little desert trees

Thank you for taking the time to read this poem today! What did you think of it? What did it remind you of or make you think of? I’d love to hear in the comments!

If you’d like to see more of my poetry, please like, comment, and/or share this post. It helps me know what content my readers are most interested in seeing, so I can better know what to share here.