6 Months as the new me

Life has been moving at such a rapid pace lately that I missed my 6-month ampuversary. Yes, you read that right, ampuversary. As amputees, we often take time to reflect on all that we have overcome and accomplished since that fateful day when we bid adieu to a limb and our lives were forever changed.

I recently returned to the office after working from home for the last 3 months. There were many anxious nights leading up to my first day but I am adjusting and learning how to deal with discomfort in my leg and back. Not everyone is able to work after amputation and there is no general right or wrong decision here. What works for one person may not work for another and those of us who have experienced it truly understand what a personal decision it is. Although certain feelings and experiences are common amongst amputees none of us are the same. Our bodies and souls recover differently and there is no perfect standard of care. Google does not have the answers to our struggles or the remedy for that weird rash our gel liner gives us. Trial and error is the key for us.

This morning while getting dressed for a coffee run, the pin that holds my prosthetic in place got jammed in the hole. IT WOULDN'T COME BACK OUT. I broke out into a sweat trying to yank it out and I started to panic! Someone recently asked me if I sleep with it on and I remembered how I giggled at that thought. Now all I could think about was that I would need to sleep in this thing forever if I couldn't figure out how to take it off. Then there was the time I went to visit my Mom out of town and forgot to bring the charger for my prosthetic. If you have ever heard the term "dead leg" you can imagine what happened here. I had to drag my prosthetic like a zombie all weekend. Here is the thing that comes with time... laughter. Sure, it started as anger. But once it passed I could do nothing but laugh. What else was there to do? This is my new life and you really can't make this stuff up. The best part of it all is people's reactions when you laugh at yourself. They have no idea what to do with themselves and they have zero control over the shocked expression that comes across their face.

Even though I am still waiting on my insurance to approve my prosthetic and have continued to wear the loaner my prosthetic clinic so graciously gave me,  I am thankful to have much less phantom pain than I did at the start of this journey.  I have been able to cut down from 9 gabapentin per day to just 1 taken in the evening. I still remember how desperate I once felt to find a way to control my pain and how I disliked that I had maxed out the amount of allowable dosage of this medication and still could not control my pain.

Six months may be plenty of time for some to recover from surgery; as an amputee who needs to relearn to walk, figure out how to safely shower, dress themselves, and regain their strength, 6 months pass in the blink of an eye. I still have ways to go and I don't plan to reach a point where I stop pushing myself to accomplish more. Don't settle for just surviving. Instead, settle for thriving. KEEP GOING.