One Month Down
If you are reading this, you are either a friend, a loved one, a fellow amputee or simply searching for some sunshine through the storm. As I type this, I am one month out from a life-changing amputation surgery. My days now consist mostly of moving around my house with my trusty pink walker, paying medical bills online, cuddling with my dog for moral support and trying everything and I mean everything I have read, been suggested and thought of to deal with phantom limb pain. It has been the greatest challenge throughout all of my recovery thus far. Phantom pain, being neuropathic, can feel like electric shocks sometimes shooting out from the residual limb or even centered around the area where your foot once was (I know, mind-blowing. It feels even stranger than it sounds). I have tried massaging the end of the limb, using mirror therapy to trick the brain into seeing two full-length and healthy legs, and at times just staring at it and trying to rationalize to my brain that there is no sense in the nerve shooting signals down to a foot THAT ISN’T EVEN THERE ANYMORE. Although my brain has yet to comprehend this, I have found it helpful to talk to others dealing with this kind of pain. There is something empowering about hearing you are not the only one feeling this and it is very real. This is something a dear friend has instilled in me after dealing with chronic pain due to a disorder many told her was just in her head. If you are feeling phantom pain or other kinds of chronic pain, I encourage you to talk to others, always speak up to your doctor and know YOU ARE NOT CRAZY.
When discharged from the hospital, I immediately got a wheelchair which I have found to be really helpful for outings. I’ve learned how to yell “Stop!” at my husband every time I see something I want to explore more at target. Shiny object syndrome also strikes while in a wheelchair my friends! Speaking of outings, I want to tell you a few of my thoughts about your first few trips out of the house. As if being a new amputee wasn’t difficult enough, you must eventually face the rest of the world. And you must do it without one or both of your legs. To most people, this is no easier feat than fighting the battle of Braveheart. Take a deep breath as you read this… People are going to stare at you. They can’t help it. Just remind yourself that no matter how different, you are still a whole person. Besides, you have better stories to tell and have weathered greater storms than most of the people walking around the local target you nervously entered. If you panic in the parking lot or in the nail polish aisle, that’s OK. Go home, cry it out, eat a pint of Cherry Garcia ice cream and cry it out some more. There is nothing wrong with everything you are feeling. Just don’t give up! Try again until you roll in there with the confidence of Jennifer Lopez in the superbowl halftime show and shop, browse or just show off your new wheels.
You are a freaking Rockstar.
