Year 4... I can't believe it has been that long... This is kind of a continuation from the previous blog...
4 years ago this week I had the hardest day of my entire life... I don't think I will have any day harder than it...
What do you do when you have to choose between your leg and your life? I was hesitant...
The weeks preceding this life altering day was... well... confusing...
I was extremely defiant to getting rid of my leg at first. But I thought about it more and more... recovery time, rehab, pain, the chance of cancer coming back was just too much to imagine...
I recall a young man talking very directly to me about the pros of my situation... my life was such a blur I can barely recall who he was... but I knew he knew what I was about to go through... and he was right... my leg had to go...
I don't really recall the night before... I do remember sleeping much more well than I expected...
The worst part of this whole day was the waiting... waiting in the waiting room... waiting in pre op... waiting on the surgery table...
I remember walking (insisting on walking) to the pre- op room knowing these were going to be my last steps on my left leg... I wanted to savor every second of it and remember every feeling and sensation I had...
I had to be by myself at first in the room which was line up with people (mostly older and decaying) waiting for surgery. Some people were just coming back from surgery and were very out of it... and very emotional, either anger or crying... not sure why anesthesia only brings out these emotions...
I took off everything... everything that was me... my favorite necklace, all of my clothing, stripping me down to nothing... a precursor, I felt, to how I was going to feel after all this was done... naked... defiled... maimed... disfigured...
I then had to put on those god awful shit brown grippy socks they make you wear that barely stay on your feet... the last thing that would ever be on my left foot... most likely why I have a negative feeling whenever I see them...
The nurse that was going to take care of me obviously had no idea why I was there... I am sure she was regretful when she asked...
Big happy smile on her face, pleasant woman, reminded me of one of my aunts... "So what are you getting done today?' she says with a smile on her face that was meant to be comforting...
How the hell am I suppose to answer? I can barely keep it together... I have been good all day and not cried once...
I clenched my teeth, then relaxed my jaw and answered with as much composure I could muster... "My leg is being amputated today..."
The smile on her face went away and tears started streaming down my face... the only thing she could say was "You are my daughters age" She gave me a hug, assured me she would be there when I got out of surgery, and then she never came to my bedside again...
That encounter has always bothered me... was she too upset by it? was she just busy with other patients? I guess I will never know...
My dad stayed by my bedside until they took me away... everyone came in and out to wish me luck and he stayed with me the whole time... The second he hugged me and walked away I couldn't stop crying... it was real... this was happening... I am never going to be the same again...
As I am brought into the cold surgery room, I am told to curl into a
ball so they can start the epidural. I cling to my knee and look at my
other leg, frantically wiggling my toes, knowing I will never see that
leg again... Holding back tears... The numbness takes over and I know at that moment I
will never feel that leg again...
They lay me back and cover my
body with blankets. They insert the extensions where your arms rest into the
surgery bed which make it form some sort of unholy cross. They strap my arms in, I have this heinous thought that I am about to be tortured by some evil doctor. I can see them
lifting my leg and covering it with orange iodine, getting the
tourniquet ready, and started going over the technicalities...
I am still awake..."Courtney
Wilson, amputation of the left leg...." there are so many things are rushing in my head... These words, as simple as they may be separate from each other have formed this huge ominous storm cloud over my head... it impossible to hold back tears... I am incapable of moving so I can't even brush the waterfall of tears coming down my face, as hard as I may try...
The nurse next to
me sees that I am awake and crying asks for me to be put under... she
takes off her sterile glove, touches my face, and wipes my tears away... I can't bear to meet her gaze in fear of crying even more...
That's the last thing I remember...And I will never forget it...
I am glad that you are doing so well. At least I hope things are going well enough. I hope your recovery is done, or at least going very well. I know you are very strong and will make it through anything thrown your way. I do occasionally wonder how you are doing though. You are greatly cared for, by more people than you think or know, I am sure of it.
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