What’s Goin’ On?

Reason why I left Vegas

One of the main reasons I wanted to start a blog is because, for those who know me, I left Las Vegas and gave half-assed answers to why. It’s kind of a long story and I gave the simplified, underexaggerated version of the truth. I’m ready to tell the whole story to anyone who wants to know in a place I can refer people to. This will not be the focus of what I write about, though I may refer to it.

To start from the very beginning, to set the scene, my sophomore year of college was not what I was expecting at all. Truth be told I had so much going on that I became depressed. The storm cloud that would keep me in bed majority of the time, kept me from doing anything including cleaning my room, only lightened when I came back to the Bay. The depression fueled by the stress of 21 credits turned to 19 when I dropped a class, 20-25 hour weeks in a job I didn’t want but kept from my fear of change and love of my coworkers, sorority requirements, due dates, and lack of sleep kept me missing in action a lot of time. To those who know me and then wondered why I rarely went out anymore, why I stayed even more quiet than I normally am, this is why. Something good came out of that though, I started watching and caught up with Game of Thrones. I swear to you, you’re missing out if you don’t watch it.

One day a light switched in my brain and I finally built the courage to reduce my hours at my job. When that led others to quit and when I got a new job, I quit too; I only stayed on board for them. By the time school was over a weight was lifted off my shoulders although I still had four classes waiting for me in summer. Remind me why am I double majoring again. Music sounded different, days were brighter, but then there was a pain in my foot. I used RICE, tried to continue with the new job that paid way better than my last, that I was really excited about. I went out when I could, even to concerts. Day by day walking got harder, the pain got worse, and I started limping. At some point I needed crutches to walk. I had just gotten myself out of depression; I wasn’t gonna let that stop me!

I went to a specialized doctor, but they were only there two times a week. Maybe a month into my job I had to get my shifts covered because standing and walking were becoming more and more unbearable. Eventually I lost the job because I couldn’t work on crutches; my doctor highly suggested I stayed off of it, writing me a note.

Side note: Here’s a huge thank you to my manager, Erin and my coworkers, especially Alex and Tyler. I don’t know if you guys are reading this but you guys held onto me and tried to help me out for as long as you could. Not a lot of people would do that and I am forever grateful.

I started only leaving my room for the doctor appointments, food, and to go to the airport if I was going home. Regardless, my mental health remained intact. About a month and a half from my first appointment, after X-Rays and MRIs, they diagnosed me, gave me steroids, and sent me to physical therapy. A month and a half after that my physical therapist suggested I go to the emergency room after suggesting an orthopedic. Even though my appointment was in two days he really believed I should go to the hospital.

I drove and limped my way inside, waited for my dad who was coming down anyway, got my 100th X-Ray and got the results. This whole process took about six hours, no exaggeration, wasting money and time especially since the X-Ray showed nothing. Of course I cried; I was annoyed and bitter as hell. Anyways my dad left the next day and the day after that I went to my orthopedic appointment. Imagine my surprise when he told me I broke my heel and I got a cast slapped on my foot. And you know how he discovered this? From the MRI I got a month and a half before. I was the most shook person on the planet.

By this point it was my third month not being able to walk correctly, and my second month needing crutches. I had worked on broken heel. I saw J Cole on a broken heel. I almost saw Kendrick on a broken heel. I went to physical therapy on a broken heel. I walked all over my damn broken heel! Like!!!! Hello??? I was made to feel like I was being dramatic, like it was all in my head and I was at fault. I could sense how me staying in, even walking so slow, rubbed my friends the wrong way and after that cast got slapped on it felt like I respectively flipped them all off, like yea ya’ll thought I was playin’ around, jokes on you.

The problem was this happened a week before school started and I lived off campus, up a flight of steps. It was hard enough getting up and down the stairs on two feet and crutches and suddenly I was forced to walk up with one foot and crutches? Even worse I felt the same pain happening in my right foot. I had been overcompensating for months and I was deeply concerned I had broken my other foot through it all. The next morning I couldn’t put weight on it without being in an extreme amount of pain. It was then I decided to sit the semester out to get better. I only had a couple days to figure out how I’d get to and around campus and how’d I’d get up and down the steps into my apartment. After still being in four classes, doing online counselor training, and working until I couldn’t, it was time to rest. My family invested in a wheelchair and after attempting to find the cause of it all, and failing, I returned home.

Fast forward about two months later here we are. I haven’t walked since; I’ve basically been on bed rest, especially since my muscles atrophied and my family works too much to help me get around. I was going to take online classes but I honestly wasn’t feeling them. Instead I write, read, cling to my social media, think a little too much, and binge TV. I went from a cast to a boot and back to a cast. I just got it off for good, hopefully, two weeks ago. I learned that the heel fracture was actually, maybe also, a slight Achilles tear as well as bone erosion. I start physical therapy in a week and hopefully will get to the cause of the problem sometime this week. I miss Vegas and my friends there so much. I miss my new apartment and my roommate and believe it or not I miss working. As of now my goal is to be back in January.

This experience has been a rollercoaster on my emotions. It has been the most challenging five months of my life. I had been so positive up until I got diagnosed. I was made to believe nothing was wrong even though in my gut I knew something wasn’t right. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have doubt that everything is okay every now and then but this feeling is usually accompanied with pain. Still, I’m doing well. It’s just a moment in my life and with time and action it will pass. This experience has taught me so much about myself and others and for that I’m grateful. Everything happens for a reason, right?

2 thoughts on “What’s Goin’ On?”

  1. Remember Alyssa you have the Lewis genes and we are fighters. We overcome any adversity put in front of us. We go through bouts of doubt and depression but at the end of the day we figure it out and make it happen. I’m glad you shared your story and nobody knows your body better than you!!! Great first blog piece

    Liked by 1 person

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