Aug 21 2006

Greetings From The Zubik Bungalow

The featured chunks were smuggled out of the operating room by my handy sibling, Tidy. Tidy was lucky to get them. Apparently ankle chunks, even those as rare and beautiful as mine, are considered a biohazard or a terrorist threat and are usually incinerated or imprisoned without representation.

Greetings, earthlings. At last I return from my home planet, the Planet Obstreperon. I’ve got so much news I can’t fit any of it in here. Except for this:

I am changing my name back to Zubik.

Oh, and behold, pictured above, three of the seven chunks of interstellar space-rock extracted at great expense, in terms of both cash and piteous suffering, from the Twisty ankle last Tuesday (yes, I will be selling them on eBay). My handy sibling Tidy witnessed the surgery personally and remarked that the indifferent violence with which my surgeon brutalized my defenseless joint was breathtaking. Tidy further described the scene as strikingly gory; bloody sluice from my besieged ankle was apparently surging across the O.R. floor to such a delugical extent that the anesthesiologist, positioned way down at my slack-jawed head, was moved to ask for a canoe. Or perhaps it was a towel.

Either way.

While she was at it, she (my surgeon) decided to reconstruct a couple of ligaments that had, sadly, lost their youthful vim, with the result that I will be forced to wear a gargantuan* velcro boot-cast and remain unable to bear any weight—not even with the limpiest of hobbles—on the affected (or, as orthopedic surgeons like to call it, “involved”) limb for the foreseeable future. The foot is swole up to twice its original size and looks hideous, so I spend all day staring at it.

It smarts a bit, too.

After some consideration, I find that I cannot recommend spending any amount of time whatsoever balancing on one foot. The strain begins to show in the face, and is unseemly.


*Roughly the size of Guam, or Gargantua


1 ping

Skip to comment form

  1. flyinfur.blogspot.com

    Orthopedic surgeries are absolutely the coolest ones to watch; power tools, blood, and weird surgeon outfits. I bet the Texas Chainsaw Massacre was written by someone who worked with orthopods in the OR.

  2. faultline.org/place/toad

    And here I was, looking at that photo and thinking this would be a report on Austin sashimi.

    Other than that: Ow.
    Just don’t let Bert get those, eh?

  3. I used to work in orthopedic oncology and research. Even though I worked with other stuff, I sometimes was sent down to ER to “harvest” a tumor sample. Thus I got to sit in the gallery until the pager went off and enjoy viewing novel uses for power tools.

    It was quite the joke with my boss and other surgeons that their work involved so many power tools normally reserved for drywall and concrete.

    Nice chunks! I guess you ain’t called “Twisty” for nothing. Now if they could only invent an operation to remove such bone gravel from one’s head, no?

    Best wishes for good drugs and a speedy recovery.

  4. myaimistrue.com

    Dear Twisty,


    Love, Amber

    P.S. Feel better.

  5. Twisty

    Power tools, yes! I am informed that Dr. Ankle used a power drill to make holes in my bone in order ‘to stimulate’ something or other. Pain, probably.

  6. BTW, that velcro boot isn’t a cast, it’s a “Robot Leg”. See, now you are Bionic (makes sheet metalish electronic noise). My ten-year-old son got one last winter. It made him very popular.

    I walked him in to his class the first day. Visualize if you will a row of lockers with 9 and 10 year olds putting away packs and grabbing supplies. As we strolled down the hallway, each male child in turn turned toward us and said:


    The teacher had to move the couch aside that day to prevent the other 4th graders from jumping off it repeatedly in an attempt to break their feet so they could have their very own bionic leg.

    This is why parents and teachers exist.

  7. *good vibes*good vibes*good vibes*

  8. feministlawprofs.law.sc.edu

    Are you going to embed them in a lucite paperweight? Or have them made into jewelry?

  9. I second that Ow, and also add an Eeewww.

    I was just thinking about you earlier, even checked the comments in your previous post to see if anyone had news, and yey a whole post.

    I must have missed the whole Zubik thing though, must browse the archives. (Is it Zubik Faster or Twisty Zubik?)

    Anway -good to hear you’re OK (ish). I hope you are better than I was at wielding crutches as it sounds as if you’ll need them for a while.

  10. alphabitch.org

    Name changes are frequently therapeutic; I can attest to this. Zubik is a very sturdy name.

    And also the non-weight-bearing thing. The first time I broke my left foot, I had to have a monstrous bandage-y thing that was wrapped in such a way that there was no way for me to rest my foot on the ground whilst standing (this was before they invented the technology that allows them to make those snazzy velcro boot-casts that so impress fifth-graders).

    I was forced to rely on crutches for several months. Beginning in January. In Minneapolis. Where I traveled to and from school every day via the city bus, necessitating long walks through deep snow and ice (at least it’s flat there). Let me assure you that, once you’ve fallen on your ass, it’s difficult to regain a vertical posture without the ability to even rest your lame foot on the ground. The crutches are worse, in that case, than useless. Especially if you are carrying around the complete works of William Shakespeare in a hardcover edition in your book bag.

  11. members.cox.net/thevixen/Cayenne/1.html

    My first impression was sushi as well. Then I thought – pendant and matching ear studs. Well, lugging around Andre the Giant’s foot does not seem like fun but you have retained a jocular frame of mind. Keep rolling with the punches and away from Bertie’s traps. At least you don’t need that foot to type. Hey, I’m looking for the bright side here, cut me some slack. I hope the drugs are good.

  12. Are all your surgeons and physicians going in together to buy a small country with the profit they’ve made off you this past year?

  13. grannyvibe.blogspot.com

    Way too cool! So did you get good durgs?

  14. I did a tib/fib in 2001 – that is I slipped on ice outside in January (a common walkway coating that time of year around here) and during the fall downward, my weight shifted and caused me to spin a full 360 on with my left foot planted firmly in one spot.

    I hope you fair better than I did with your healing. I was working so I qualified for worker’s comp, but the company, lovers of workers as they were known to be, decided to dispute my case and thus I stayed at home for four weeks with no income and a casted leg. Funding needs and a begging boss convinced me to go to work parttime. Against better advice, I did.

    I fell on my crutches two weeks later, in the office, on a lineoleum covered concrete floor. Now mind you, I was in my crutches and followed my crutch training and clung to those wooden death sticks mightily in a reflexive effort to right myself. I came crashing, all the too much to tell you weight slammed to the floor, with my left face hitting first. Feeling a bit dazed and being alone save for one customer in the place, I purchased a coke, thinking (for lack of a first aid kit and an unwillingness to walk — hobble to find one) that the cold would suffice as a cold-pack for my face.

    A half-hour later I called boss on phone and said I was feeling a bit odd and could he send someone down to replace me? Oh and by the way, I fell on my crutches. I was immediately shuttled to the hospital and put on heavy pain killers. I can’t remember how they determined it, but the entire left side of my face had been crushed, my cheek bone fragmented in three places, my eye orbit socket broken in two places and the left side of my nose crushed toward the right.

    My dad said when he talked to the doc they both wondered if someone had hit me with a two by four.

    See? It could get worse. Stay away from crutches and don’t ever do anything because someone pressures you to. As if you, Twisty don’t already know this.

    Valium and perceset are great drugs by the way and it is no mystery to me why people get addicted to them.

    Heal well, for crise sake the patriarchy is gaining an upper hand on their already upper hand.

  15. mypinkshoe.blogspot.com



    I hope you have some fun painkillers.

    And that you won’t need them for long.

    Feel better soon!

  16. Do you have crutches, too, or just the boot?

    I kind of enjoyed crutching about. It gives you bigger biceps, and it works well with obstreperal fantasies, as when you desperately want to whack someone you are already carrying an extremely large stick.

    On the ick side, though, it also made me a lot more attractive to men. I can only guess they were excited by the thought that I couldn’t get away.

  17. Well, they say these things come in threes and it looks like you’ve hit the mark as far as I can tell from my obsessive reading of the archives. (Hey, I’m almost up to the current year!) And really, those chunks are impressive. I agree with Ann Bartow–lucite is definately the way to go. Here’s to faster healing, good drugs (mmmm.. opiates) and all of that!

  18. I thought it was chicken tenders.

    Live long and prosper, Zubik. Drugs are your friends right now.

  19. karenroadchronicles.blogspot.com

    “After some consideration, I find that I cannot recommend spending any amount of time whatsoever balancing on one foot. The strain begins to show in the face, and is unseemly.”

    See previous post. Seriously.

  20. sunnystributeblog.blogspot.com

    Oh, Twisty! I have to tell you about an apparatus!

    When I was in Missouri, there was a customer at our pharmacy who had had extensive ankle surgery. She was seen scooting around in a, well, a scooter of some sorts specifically engineered for someone in that situation. It was built at a height suitable for kneeling one leg on whilst wheeling oneself around to various places. You should check into something like that.

    Wouldn’t you know it, I was able to find a link. I believe it’s called a knee scooter. Interesting, no?

    Many well-wishes for uneventful recuperation.

  21. Twisty,
    You are the master of making me flinch and laugh, with or without pictures of hazardous bio waste.
    I´m sure Bert has some physical therapy training planned for your speedy and successful recovery.

  22. roseconnors.blogspot.com


    Your chunks look strangely like blurry goldfish in a bowl.

    I wanted to remind you to stretch the calf and thigh muscles in your weight bearing leg frequently and have them massaged if at all possible to avoid cramps, strains and spasms.

    Quick recovery to you.


  23. Ah, the velcro boot. It’s making me nostalgic for the time I was hit by a car while crossing the street. My favorite experiences from that time were the accusations from a couple of my coworkers that I surely didn’t continue to need the boot, that I must be milking it for sympathy. Riiiight. Oh, yes, and the guy who laughed at me while I was exiting a convenience store. He was just laughing at the boot. If there is any justice, he’s gotten the privilege of wearing one himself since then. Also, it was quite entertaining to drive my manual transmission car with said velcro ankle support.

    Just do what the doctors told you, surround yourself with sympathetic helpers, and everything will be fine. Honest!

  24. redneckmother.blogspot.com

    I hail your return, Zubik!

    I’ll never see the word ‘chunk’ the same way again.

  25. saraarts.com

    Yeowch! Those are some fairly large chunks. Do you know what they were yet?

    As for balancing on one leg, well, all I can say is it grows on you, especially as an alternative to sitting down all the time. Previous experience with yoga, ice skating and/or ballet really comes in handy, too, when life throws you limps. Of course, no one thinks about this stuff while arabesquing or vrksasaning at a barre or on a mat. But look: These really are life skills. Who knew?

  26. Sorry about it all, Twisty. I understand that those boots are excellent for patriarchal ass-kicking, however.

  27. alphabitch.org

    You know, even though I know those are your ankle chunks, and I fully expected that there’d be pictures of them posted — plus I already saw them yesterday and they didn’t gross me out at all, today I can’t shake the feeling that they have something to do with dentistry. I’m not liking this feeling very much.

  28. Oh, Twisty, I wince in sympathy! I still have my Velcro boot in the basement, along with the crutches, from the broken foot I had two years ago. Nothing as painful as your surgery, but it made for an interesting few months of mobility challenges. I couldn’t drive for a few months (stick shift, so I need both feet) but the hardest thing to do was to get down the hall from my kitchen to the living room carrying a cup of coffee while on crutches. I ended up wearing a bag that would hold thermos, book, phone, and whatever else I wanted to transport.

    It was interesting to me how many people stopped to recount their accidents when they saw me on the street with the boot or crutches. But once I was off the crutches and just limping and moving slowly, I became invisible. I had the distinct impression that my awkward gait made people uncomfortable. A visible injury attracted sympathy, while something that looked like a permanent disability didn’t.

  29. Greetings and felicitations, o mighty Zubik of Obstreperon.

    May the remainder of your life be long and blissfully pain-free.

  30. Do those chunks glow in the dark? I bet they do.

    Feel better.

  31. Twisty. I saw a really good episode of ‘Eight is Enough’ the other day. It was the one where Abby had to do this———-[message truncated]

  32. There was this episode of ‘Eight is Enough’ where Abby was going to give a speech and the dudes in the family totally blew her off but the women were all supportive. Except Nancy, who was busy filling cars with gas while wearing red satin short-shorts. In the end, all was forgiven because Tom is pathetic and combed over, the eldest son is supa gorgeous, Tommy is destined for Jeezak fame and Branson commercials, and Nicholas is just a kid with a deviated septum. Oh yeah, the women were eating yogurt and rolling their eyes.

  33. Welcome back!

  34. witchy-woo.blogspot.com


    Is that it now? Is that the end of surgical intervention? Or is there more?

    I just want you to be well.

  35. As the proud owner of my own set of crutches (multiple sprains mandated it) and my very own Robo-Boot (spiral fracture of right ankle in 2004, ugh) I welcome you to the ranks of the differently-mobile.

    The Robo-Boot did much to endear itself to me when it allowed me to eventually bathe and sleep without it at a point when, had I been in a cast, both of these would still have been weeks away.

    The crutches are a mixed blessing, being awkward and ungainly but still extending one’s reach for smacking the annoying. When you get out and about I suggest being extra vigilant, crutches seem to render one semi-invisible. And scorn not the scooters offered at stores, they can be lifesavers and allow one to roll over the feet of annoying people.

  36. hexpletive.blogspot.com

    My “ew” and “ow” sort of merged into an extended “eewoowwwwwewwoowweww”.

    But hooray for extraction of nasty kamikaze body chunks!

  37. That scooter looks pretty cool….much nicer than crutches. I had both of my knees operated on at the same time and they gave me crutches….sadists. I went to a medical supply store and bought a lovely walker!

    Hope you have marvelous drugs and your recovery speed is fast!

    And those pieces looked like bits of shrimp that I put in my omelet yesterday….won’t be doing that for awhile.

    Take good care.

  38. Awesome! I always want to save the parts too. Noboody in my immediate family seems to understand my fascination with such things so thank you, you’ve made me feel less alone with my morbidity.

    I have a very similar looking chunk in my left ankle that has been floating around for over 20 years now. I don’t think much of it until it starts acting like a barometer.

  1. Gimp at I Blame The Patriarchy

    […] Register « Greetings From The Zubik Bungalow […]

Comments have been disabled.