If anyone looked on my computer at my recent searches...let’s just say I’d have some splainin’ to do.
My leg will be sawed off. Since there’s cancer, the tissue will be studied, and then the leg will be incinerated. Up in flames. I asked the doctor what would happen to my leg after the surgery. He wouldn’t tell me. I don’t know why. It wasn’t like I was going to ask them to wrap it up to go so I could take it to show and tell.
I’m not sure why I wanted to know the gory details of my legs future. I guess because it had been with me forever and to just let it go, without even knowing what would become of it, seemed wrong to me.
My surgery was scheduled to take place a week before Christmas. My parents asked if it could be done after the holidays, but Dr. Lang said it was too risky to wait.
I was sitting in my room. It was the last night my leg and I would spend together. I didn’t know what bone cancer looked like, but I imagined it to be black in color and gooey. It was hard to believe that between my knee and ankle this black goo was eating away a part of my body.
I tucked my left leg underneath myself as best I could. I wanted to prepare myself for how my body would look after surgery. I looked online at some pictures of amputees. A lot of the pictures showed how life could go on after amputation. In the photos, the people were surfing, skiing, and hiking mountains. I did none of those things now and hoped that I wouldn’t be peer pressured into becoming a shining example of how full a life without limbs could be.
I took a deep breath then quickly looked. When I saw only my right leg out in front of me, reality set in. Things had been so hectic the past weeks that I hardly had time to think. All the focus had been on the actual surgery date, the chemo schedule, and learning about the cancer. All the attention was on the action of doing, but none on the being. What was life going to be like as an amputee? After everyone had done their job and gone back to their normal lives, what was it going to be like “being” this way? At this time tomorrow, a part of me would be gone.
I straightened my leg back out, rubbed it with some strawberry scented body lotion, dressed it up in my cute red patent leather heels, and took a few pictures of it with my phone. My leg was getting the royal treatment on its last night. After all, it had been with the present company almost twenty years and had served me well. Giving it a proper sendoff was the right thing to do. After the fifteenth picture I took of the leg, my phone chimed with a text.
Noah: I’m at your window. Park?
Noah and I agreed not to discuss what happened at the condo the other day. I had too many things on my mind that took priority. We’d deal with it, just not now.
Me: I don’t think I can make it there. My leg is hurting.
Noah: Put your coat on. I have a surprise for you.
Me: What is it?
Noah: A surprise. I’m headed to the front door. ?
Noah carried me the entire three blocks to the park. There was no other place I wanted to be tonight than in his arms. Instead of taking me over to our spot, he headed to the fire pit area. He placed me in one of the chairs that surrounded the pit, and draped a big fleece blanket over me that he had already brought here. I watched as he built a fire. He was wearing his high school letterman jacket and a College of Charleston baseball cap twisted backwards. He looked so cute. It was sweet the way he was trying to get my mind off of tomorrow.
Sitting beside me, he poured two cups of hot chocolate from the thermos that was sitting by his chair. I lifted the blanket up as he scooted his chair closer and joined me underneath. I snuggled into his side as his arm draped over my shoulders and he pulled me closer to him. Through my coat I could feel his hand running slowly back and forth over my shoulder. We were quiet for a while drinking our hot chocolate. My eyes took turns between looking at the fire and the beautiful clear sky filled with stars. It was as if Noah had ordered those stars just for tonight.
“This is perfect.” The words drifted from my mouth as a whisper.
“Yeah, it is,” he said.
“Thank you for this, Noah.” His arm squeezed my shoulders slightly.
“Tweet?”
“Mmmhmm?”
“I’m sorry.”
I shifted, looking up at him. “For what?”
He focused straight ahead. The light from the fire caused the tears running down his face to glisten.
“That night you sprained your ankle…I should have taken you to the ER. If I had done that… maybe they would have caught the cancer sooner and could have saved your leg.”
I sat my cup of hot chocolate down. Twisting my body completely toward him, I threw my arms around his neck and squeezed.
“Don’t do that to yourself. It’s no one’s fault,” I whispered, choking back my tears. I was completely overwhelmed by him and how deeply he cared for me.
“We’re going to get through this. I’m going to be with you every step of the way,” he said.
“Are you trying to be funny?” I asked teasingly. He broke from our hug and look into my eyes.
“Sorry about that.” There was complete determination in his face when he said, “We are going to get through this.”
I wanted to believe it and at that moment I did. At that moment, snuggling under a blanket watching the fire with Noah was perfect. I didn’t feel like I had cancer and was having surgery in the morning.
We drank hot chocolate and watched the flames until they turned into glowing embers. We didn’t say much more to each other. We didn’t need to. I took a break from thoughts of cancer, surgery, chemo, and my future. I wasn’t going to let anything ruin this moment for me. The present was perfect and I was going to stay in it for as long as possible.
When I heard I had to be at the hospital at 5 am for a 7 am surgery, I thought they were screwing with me. Wasn’t it enough that I’m getting my leg sawed off, I have cancer, and now I have to get up early? This being a cancer patient sucked.
The hospital was fairly quiet at that ungodly hour. When I walked into the waiting area, I could feel the nervousness that ran through the patients waiting to be called back for their surgery. In attendance with me this morning was Mom, Dad, and Emily. It had been a while since we had all done something together. I may be saying goodbye to my leg today, but we got a family trip out of it. Lemonade! I’m trying like hell to make lemonade out of all this.
Mom sat staring at nothing. Dad paced back and forth between where we sat and the free coffee that was set up in the corner of the room. Emily spent her time trying to engage all of us in conversation. She talks a lot when she’s nervous. I sat looking calm on the outside while inside my nerves were in overdrive. My stomach fluctuated between feeling nauseous and sinking into the ground.
All I wanted to do was stop time from moving forward. I wanted to run. I wasn’t strong enough to get through this, any of it, the amputation, the chemo, the cancer. There was a loud noise in my head like the ticking of a clock. I looked at the clock on the wall that read 5:25 am. Time was closing in on me. Once I walked through that door, there was no turning back. I would have to move forward. If I were going to bolt out of there, I needed to do it now. I started to lean forward in my chair, when the door swung open.
The face of each patient flinched every time that door opened and a nurse stepped out. We were scared that our number was up and we had to go through with whatever torture they were going to inflict.
A small, dark haired nurse stepped out, scanned the room, and said, “Amanda Kelly?”
Shit, I was up. I didn’t react. I hadn’t had enough time to adjust. I needed more time. The nurse called my name again. I felt the eyes of my parents and sister on me.
Mom leaned over and whispered, “Sweetheart, it’s time.” My dad walked back to us as Mom, Emily and I stood.
The nurse approached our little group. “Amanda Kelly?”
“Yes.” That one little word had me almost in tears.
“You can come with me.” All four of us started to follow her, when she abruptly stopped, looked at my parents and said, “You’ll be able to come back once we have Amanda all set up. I’ll come get you.”
I lifted my head up to my mom with pleading eyes, not to let me go alone. Her eyes overflowed with sorrow. I knew it was killing her that she was powerless to make this all go away for me. “Amanda, we will be back there the minute they say we can.” I just nodded my head and desperately tried to hold back my tears and tamper down my nerves.
I was led down a long sterile hallway. I tried to stay focused on my nurse ahead of me. I was afraid to pay too much attention to the sights and sounds around me, like a doctor possibly running past me laughing in a demonic way as he revved up a chainsaw. So, my eyes and ears stayed glued to my nurse.
Her shirt was covered with cartoon puppies and the squeaking noise her shoes made across the sterile floor seemed to bounce off the walls and echo the entire way. She opened the door to a small holding room with a stretcher, a couple of chairs and an IV pole. I stood there waiting for instructions.
“My name is Sarah and I’ll be your nurse today. You can sit up on the stretcher.” She flipped through some papers and then asked. “Can you tell me your name and your date of birth?”
“Amanda Kelly. March 23, 1990.” She snapped an ID bracelet on my wrist.
“And what type of surgery are we having today?”
“I don’t know about you, but I’m having my left leg amputated.”
She glanced up from her papers and gave me a slight smirk. Placing the papers at the end of the stretcher, she pulled a flimsy gown, and plastic bag from the built in cabinet behind me.
“You can go ahead and get undressed and put this gown on. Here’s a bag to put your things in. Make sure you take off all jewelry. The anesthesiologist will be in soon and I’ll be back to start your IV.” She left closing the door behind her.
I dressed in the fashionable gown and placed my clothes in the bag. As soon as I had crawled under the covers, the door swung open. A happy smiling man dressed in scrubs came in, followed by another nurse and then Nurse Sarah.
The nurses took positions on either side of the stretcher as Dr. Smiles extended his hand to me. “Amanda Kelly?” I nodded. “Hi, I’m Dr. McFadden, anesthesiology.”
“Hi.”
He sat down in one of the chairs and flipped through a folder. “Can you tell me your date of birth and what type of surgery you’re having done?”
“March 23, 1990 and left leg amputation.” I felt like I was on a demented game show, The Wheel of Misfortune.”
As Dr. Smiles was rattling off how he was going to knock me out, the nurse to the left of me took my blood pressure at the same time Nurse Sarah was tapping my right arm in various places.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“I’m looking for a vein to start your IV.” She tapped the top of my right hand a couple of times and uttered, “That one looks nice and plump.”
The doctor was still rattling on, the other nurse was shoving a thermometer in my mouth, and I saw a huge needle headed towards my hand. There was too much happening at one time. I couldn’t focus on any one thing. I had never felt this helpless and unsure of what was going on. I winced as the needle pierced my skin. A few tears began to trickle down my cheek.
Nurse Sarah looked up, her expression apologetic. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” I wondered if she thought it would feel great as she shoved a sharp pointy object into my skin.
Things were being done without anyone asking me first. Before leaving, the doctor said, “I’ll be back in a bit to give you some happy juice.” I didn’t know what he was talking about. I was too focused on the mound of tape Nurse Sarah was wrapping around my IV.
She finished torturing me and then said, “I’ll go get your family. Dr. Lang will be into check on you before we take you back.”
“Thanks.”
“Can I get you anything?”
“Out of here.” I smirked.
Both nurses gathered all their things and headed out the room. Before closing the door, Nurse Sarah leaned in and said, “I know it’s pretty scary. Dr. Lang is one of the best in the country.” She gave me a small smile. “I’ll go tell your family they can come back.”
Minutes later Mom, Dad, and Emily filed into the tiny room. Mom and Emily sat while Dad remained standing. He looked like a caged animal. Sitting and waiting were not his forte. He was more comfortable doing something than sitting and staring at the four walls. This whole situation was hard on both my parents, but I think Dad was slightly more affected than Mom. He was used to being my protector and he couldn’t do that now.
At 6:30 Dr. Lang came in to check and reassure me that he thought I’d do fine during the surgery. After he left, Nurse Sarah came in and told me and my family I was about to be taken back, so we needed to say our goodbyes.
Emily got up first and gave me a long hug. I couldn’t hold my tears back any longer. I clutched on to her tightly, knowing that when I let go, I was one second closer to the operating room. “Don’t cry, Manda. We’re going to get you through this. I love you.” I nodded my head that was glued to the crook of her neck. Emily left the room in tears.
When Mom and Dad stepped up, Mom’s arms immediately wrapped around me. “I love you, Amanda, and I’m so proud of you.” she said, repeatedly.
I looked up at my dad, who was standing on the other side. He was quietly crying. I had never seen daddy cry before. It broke my heart knowing that I was the cause of his tears. “I’m sorry, Daddy,” was the only thing I could think to say. He bent down and kissed the top of my head.
“You have nothing to be sorry about, princess. I just wish it was me instead of you getting ready to go through this.”
The door opened and Dr. Smiles poked his head in, signaling to my parents it was time for them to leave. “We’ll take good care of her,” he said to my parents as they passed by him, before directing his attention on me. “So you ready to feel happy?” I nodded as I wiped my face dry.
He had a syringe of something and shot it through the IV tube. Within seconds, I was feeling the medication and it was awesome. While I was on a fast train to Loopyville, I heard a commotion outside my door. Dr. Smiles opened it to see what was going on.
I heard a female voice that sounded like my nurse say, “Young man, you can’t go in there now. She’s about to go back to surgery.”
“I got caught in traffic. I’ll only stay a second. Please. I’m her brother.”
I thought it was so nice of my brother to come see me, and then I remembered I didn’t have a brother. Did I?
“He can come in for a few minutes,” Dr. Smiles said to the female voice.
I turned my head towards the door. A huge smile spread across my face, partly because of the happy juice, but mostly because my knight in plastic armor was here to save me. “I just gave her some medicine, so she’s pretty loopy right now.”
“Thanks,” Noah said, walking over and sitting by me on the stretcher. I felt his hand glide down the side of my face. “Hey Tweet. How are you feeling?”
“Gooood.” He chuckled.
“I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner. There was an accident and I was stuck in traffic.”
“That’s alright, my brother. It’s all good. You’re here now. Grab my clothes and let’s go.” I sat up bringing us face-to-face.
“Tweet, you can’t leave right now.”
I narrowed my eyes at him and grinned. “You want to hook up? This gown has easy access and I got nothing on underneath it.”
We stared at each other for a few seconds before the door was opened, startling both of us, and Nurse Sarah walked in. I kept my eyes on Noah for another second. Even in my foggy state, I could see all the love he had for me in his eyes. I hoped he could see the love I had for him in mine.
He stood allowing Nurse Sarah to come around the back of the stretcher and start pushing me out the door. “Nurse Sarah, has anyone ever told you, you were a buzz kill?” I heard her laugh behind me.
“I’ve been called worse.”
“This is my Noah. Isn’t he hot?”
“He’s very handsome,” she said.
“He’s an awesome kisser too. His tongue tastes like thin mints. He’s even touched my boobs and…”
“Tweet, I don’t think the nurse cares about any of that,” Noah interrupted.
Stepping around to my side, Nurse Sarah asked, “I thought you were her brother?” She looked at me and then at Noah, giving us both a knowing smile.
“We’re a very close family.” I heard Noah say, as I was pushed out the door and down the hall.
The operating room was freezing and extremely bright. Once I was on the table, the nurses got to work. They reminded me of a NASCAR pit crew. Everyone had their specific job. One nurse made sure my IV had the right medicine going. One nurse covered me in warm blankets. One nurse attached electrodes to various parts of my body. Then I saw Dr. Smiles hovering over me.
“Amanda, I’m going to put this mask on you and give you a little oxygen. Just breathe deeply.” I did as I was told. It was unnerving not being able to look up at what people were doing to me. Turning my head slightly, I could see a tray covered with a blue cloth. I assumed those were the surgical instruments. Me being the masochist I am, I looked up information on the type of saw used to amputate legs. The thirteen inch stainless steel bone saw sold for $17.99 and had a five star rating on Amazon. Customers who bought this also bought a $39.90 chef’s knife. There was something very wrong about that, but I was too drugged up to figure it out.
I turned my gaze back up and saw Dr. Smiles hovering again. “Amanda, we’re almost ready. I’m going to give you some medicine that will put you to sleep.” I looked up at him. I could feel the tears, falling down the side of my face. This was it. There was no turning back now. The time had come and things were completely out of my control. The medicine took over and my eyelids closed as I left my old life behind.
Your strength and character grow stronger and deeper while you wait for hope to return.
I was at Emily’s place, sitting in an almost exact replica of my bedroom at home. My parents had basically moved my bedroom from our house over here. They wanted me to feel comfortable and thought being surrounded by familiar things would achieve that.
My hospital stay lasted four days. The first two days, I was so drugged up with morphine, I didn’t know what was happening. Day three, my head was clearer and physical therapy had started. They got me out of bed and had me using a walker to walk to the recliner in the corner of the room. It was probably six steps away from my bed. I was exhausted by the time I got to the chair.
I had only glanced down once, very quickly, at my residual limb. I was informed it’s not politically correct to call it a stump anymore. I figured if I wanted to call it a stump, I would. It was my stump after all. I still hadn’t built up the courage to look at the stump side-by-side with my right leg.
Mom stayed with me all day and Dad and Emily visited at night after work. I don’t know how he did it, but somehow Noah managed to sneak in my room and stay with me all night. No doubt, he flashed his sexy smile, winked his bright light blues a few times, and completely charmed the panties off of the night nurse.
Day four, I was discharged. Physical therapy would come to me three times a week. In two weeks, if my surgical site was healed well enough I would start the process of being fitted for a temporary prosthesis and start chemo. Good times.
The two things that I was most afraid of right now were starting chemo and having phantom pain. It felt like the lower portion of my left leg was still there. It was a mind f*ck when I looked down and saw no leg, but felt it. Dr. Lang said not every amputee experiences phantom pain. I was hoping that would be the case for me.
Day one of physical therapy was exhausting. I walked around the apartment using the walker, did some stretching exercises, and that was it. I was resting on the bed, leaning against the headboard, with my legs stretched out in front of me.
My eyes trailed down and froze. This was the first time I had allowed myself to look at my legs side-by-side. I stared for a long time feeling very detached from my lower limbs, as if they didn’t belong to me. It felt like I was staring at someone else that I didn’t know.
Slowly the realization washed over me. This half leg was mine. Quiet tears started flowing out of me. It was gone. A part of me that had always been there, wasn’t coming back. All I could do was adjust.
I told myself that I hadn’t ever given much thought to that portion of my leg in the past. I told myself, that part of my leg would have definitely killed me if I had kept it. I told myself once fitted with a prosthesis I’d be able to walk again. All of these reasons ran through my mind as to why I shouldn’t be upset. Why I should be grateful.
The problem is you can’t reason with loss, you can only feel it. No matter how valid your reasons, they don’t stop you from hurting and mourning the loss. In that moment I didn’t think about the advances in prosthetics. I didn’t think about the intense pain I had experienced over the past two months. I didn’t think about the cancer. In that moment all I thought about and all I felt was how much I missed my leg and maybe I had made a huge mistake.
I wasn’t sure what to do. Talking about it with someone wasn’t going to bring my leg back, nothing would. I don’t get a do over or a second chance. Sadness and frustration consume you when you’re forced to accept your loss and you’re made to adjust.
Six days had passed since the surgery. Emily, Noah, and I had ordered pizza for dinner and we were now watching a movie. I wasn’t feeling well. I didn’t have a headache or stomachache. I just felt uncomfortable in my skin. My mind and nerve endings were still telling me that the amputated part of my leg was still there. The sensation started to change into feeling like I was wearing a tight shoe. It wasn’t painful, just annoying.
“I’m going to go to bed,” I said.
“You alright?” Emily asked.
“Yeah, I think I’m just tired.” I started rolling away in my wheelchair.
“You need any help, Tweet?”
“No, I’ll be fine. Goodnight.”
I got to my room, threw on my pajama pants, t-shirt, and got into bed. The tight shoe sensation kept getting worse and worse until it felt more like a vice had been clamped on to my leg. Then out of nowhere, a jolt of pain shot through the lower part of my leg that wasn’t there. I let out a blood curdling scream.
Noah was the first to burst through my door followed quickly by Emily. I was screaming and sobbing uncontrollably, I couldn’t tell them what was happening. Noah sat on the side of the bed and scooped me into his arms. The pain was relentless. Someone needed to take the vice clamp off my leg, but there was no visible vice to remove.
I kept screaming into Noah’s chest as the pain got even more intense. My body convulsed with every jolt of electricity that shot through me. Emily stood at the end of my bed looking helpless, tears running down her cheeks. There was nothing anyone could do because there was nothing there. Noah started rubbing my back trying to calm me down.
One hour turned into two, turned into three. By the time we were headed into the fourth hour, I thought I was going to lose my mind. The pain started to ebb and flow. I got some relief for fifteen to twenty minutes and then the vice would start to twist and tighten again, and the shockwaves came from nowhere, surprising me each time.
As the sun started to come up, the pain subsided. Noah still had his arms wrapped around me, rubbing my back. My head rested on his chest, my eyes were closed, but I wasn’t sleeping yet. I was completely drained. I had never experienced anything like that in my life.
I heard the door open and Emily come in. “Noah, I think she’s asleep now. Why don’t you go home and try to do the same. You look exhausted,” she whispered.
“I’m fine. I’m not leaving her.” Emily didn’t force the issue. The next sound I heard was the click of the door closing.