It's not too far off.
Seventeen years ago last week I shattered my ankle in a rock climbing accident, an incident that has been referred to by some as "an act of supreme idiocy/insanity" and earned me many plaudits for being one of the luckiest SOBs on the planet. That I didn't end up paralyzed or taking a dirt nap is a credit to my my lifelong love of milk as well as having time - I fell about 50 feet, after all - to twist my body around in midair, thereby avoiding landing on my back. I only broke one bone, the talus (which forms the juncture between the leg, heel, and foot), but it was in three pieces.
One major surgrey, many fun-filled hours of physical therapy, and several years later, you can't really tell anything was wrong. If I'm feeling flirtatious, I might try to show you my scars, but I've been fortunate that my mobility - aside from having roughly 45 total degrees of flexion in the joint in question - hasn't been too impaired.
That's going to change soon, I'm afraid.
It's the little things, like having to favor my leg after getting out of bed in the morning (or after sitting down for extended periods of time), or the way it stiffens up when the weather changes. Sure, walking like a pirate is fun every so often, but the day is coming where I'm going to be seeking some sort of assistance in walking.
Frankly, I'm surprised I made it this long. My surgeon told me - before he screwed my ankle back together - that I'd most likely have a permanent limp after the operation. That didn't happen, thanks in large part to his mad skillz, but more and more it's looking like the inevitable was merely delayed, and I'll be doing some cane shopping in the coming decade. Maybe I can find something with a sword in it.
I just hope House is off the air by then.
I had a similar (possibly the exact same) surgery about 10 years ago. The best (worst) thing is forgetting you have no flexibility and trying to run up stairs. I finally just quit bothering after falling down a few flights.
Getting old sucks.
Like Ginger says, the winters up here exacerbate things -- your southern clime probably extended your caneless run by at least a couple of years. (This from a guy who walks like an 84 year old every time the temperature dips below freezing due to a bad knee.)
I agree with her... the Zone ain't that bad. Join us Crips, man... we'll go kick some Blood ass.
Ditto. Mine was whitewater rafting, and I broke the tibia, fibia and a bimileal fracture of the ankle (i.e., I rammed what was left of the tibia and fibia through the sucker). And, like you, no matter how bad that is, it's only because I was able to get my feet downriver and hold them up through about a mile of Class 5+ whitewater that I'm alive, so it's a good trade. And the fact that I had no health insurance didn't stop the kind orthopedic surgeons at West Virginia University Hospital from doing what was considered elective surgery (since, without it, I would never walk again, but I wouldn't die). They rock.
That said, I own a cane and use it about 15 days a year now. And growing.
Do yourself a couple of favors. First, talk to a physical therapist about how to use the sucker. House does it wrong, and it drives me up a freaking wall. If you use a cane the way he does, as a crutch, you actually weaken the bad leg and twist the hips much more than you should.
Second, get the right height. most people get a cane that's too low. I learned the hard way that you can hurt your shoulder this way.
Third, spend the dough, and get a cane you think is cool. I had a metal cane, and I refused to use it because it made me feel like a cripple. Then I went out and got a cool looking cane and I don't mind. If I wake up and my leg won't let me crawl into the shower like a human being, I just crawl in like a cripple, take my shower, and grab my cane on my way out. It feels strangely debonair.
Finally, if you need to walk anywhere, add 25-33% for how long it will take you with the cane. As I live in a city, and use public transit for work and recreation, that's important. I've missed the beginning of movies (well, OK previews, but I hate people that walk in front of me once the lights are out, and I hate doing it to others) because I forgot that Metro is a 15 minute walk away when it hurts, but a 10 minute walk away if it feels alright.
It's not a big deal. Remember, canes are cool and can be used as weapons or as fashion accessories. Tali (I assume that's the plural) are commonplace and and really not at all attractive when paired with a top hat and soft shoe.
Melissa is going to have to create a "Gimp Zone" at her parties for us. Ron hit the first most important thing on the head: get fitted by a physical therapist for the correct height. You'll totally screw up your shoulder if don't. I'm leaning toward replacing my "I'm a crippled old codger" cane with this one. I like the hook at the end of the handle - I can use it to be really lazy and drag stuff around with. http://www.trueswords.com/wicked-dragon-sword-cane-p-198.html
Pshaw. All this talk of canes is for grannies.
Just get yourself a wicked RenFaire staff inscribed with mysterious runes and glyphs--chicks TOTALLY dig glyphs, now that Harry Potter is all the rage. I recommend a cloak and a wineskin to complete your awesome ensemble.
(And, I guess if you have to resort to a cane, nothing screams "class" like a shellacked animal wang...and the bigger and blacker, the better.)
Damn. TTTWLaM exposed the real reason for the RennieCane.
Here I was going to say that it was more stylin', more likely to hold a sword or a flask (or for maximum fun, both), and more likely to be tall enough.
If the limp comes on, I'd recommend adopting a larger pimp persona that would make it look like an affectation and not an injury. With a velvet hat, some gold teeth, and a cape, the limp doesn't make you look crippled, it makes you look like someone who could cripple a John.
I recommend stashing a portrait of yourself in the attic to stave off any further degenerative effects of aging.
BudK.com for all your sword cane and/or Gandalf-ish staff needs. Plus, the Grim Reaper Toilet Brush. Seriously.
So how are your drum major injuries gonna affect your ability to wield the cane? I understand that an injured wrist can impede one's ability to utilize those things.
You can come over here and sit with me in the cripple zone. I promise you it's not so bad.
I've been lucky that I've never needed a cane, but I look that day in the face every winter I'm up here.