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I entered this thing with the hope of ending years of pain and the hope I could get back to doing the stuff I loved. I was scared. I didn't want to chicken out but almost did. The day of surgery to have my left foot amputated I kept wondering if it would be the right choice. The surgeon made it sound easy. I guess his forty-five min part in it was easy. My husband was right there beside me. I worried more about him than me. Would it be too much? Was I going to be a burden? Recovery those first few weeks.... wow. I felt like somebody had pulled a plug. There was a weird moment I thought that the bathroom was too far away.... 10 feet...and I wondered if I could crawl that far or die first. I sobbed sitting in the tub, not from pain or fear of the nub, it was from frustration at putting a plastic bag over the knee support. I also drenched the entire bathroom. Getting up or down the stairs meant a butt scootch and my hubby to lift me up to standing to use the walker. I couldn't sleep. Then I couldn't stay awake. I wasn't depressed but everybody said I was. I was MAD. I was embarrassed at having to be picked up. I was sick from meds. More than once I said it wasn't worth it. So what turned it around? My husband had to go away for nine months. I don't have family here. I had to figure out stuff and I slowly did. I made up my mind, that what I felt on whatever day was normal and ok. If I was sad I didn't have to explain why. If I'm having my own brief pity party, grab a noise maker and join me.... or don't. In other words, it's don't have to be the smiling inspiration all the time. I'm ok with who I am now. If I kind of lurch like a drunken sailor so be it.... don’t let my Prosthetist see that statement or he will yell "heel strike" at me. If somebody asks my story I'm glad to share it.... usually. If I'm not in the mood, I don't have to share. If somebody is rude, I'm a duck, it rolls off me. I don't have time for their foolishness. I'm not going to let them win by letting them control my vision of me. Look, today for me, post amp for 7 months wasn't the best. Oh, I'm still joking with friends. But the new leg is annoying me. I somehow hurt my shoulders while crutching. And the hubby is still gone. I just wanted y'all to know...whichever amp level you's a long road. It's a life changer. But here you are not alone. Here, it's ok to vent or cry or be all confused. Why? Because we've been there. We got your back. God bless. Live in courage. Ps. yes, the amputation pain is far less than what I had and yes, most days I'm far more mobile too. It was worth it. Chrissy V. 2/2014

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