Hurd Update:
I last posted an update in April.
In some respects nothing has changed.
And yet some progress has been made—sort of. I’m still undergoing the physical therapy about
once a week seeking to encourage healing in my nerves; we are slowly making
progress on the fit of my elevated vacuum prosthesis; and I’m scheduled to have
more steroid injections at my trigger points (mainly at the end of my fibula
and tibia). I haven’t really done too
much of anything over the last couple of months. I usually can wear my prosthesis for about
four hours each day before my nerves signal that it’s time to take it off. Lately when I put the prosthesis on I immediately
have phantom pain in the form of squeezing my toes into shoes about 2-3 sizes
too small. As the day wears on, it
switches from discomfort to outright pain.
I start getting electrical shocks that shoot down the leg and out of the
phantom foot. The more active I am the
quicker the pain intensifies. After I
take the prosthesis off, my nerves continue to be active and I have
pain/discomfort for hours or all through the night. My eyes continue to be resistant to treatment
so I’ve continued my monthly eye injections to reduce/control swelling in the
retina. I want to be walking and riding
my bicycle but the pain levels limit me to short distances (30 yards). I am still able to go to the gym most weeks
which help me feel better and promotes all around good health. With my reduced level of activity (and my
continued desire to eat), I’ve put about 15-20 pounds back on. That is very distressing to me. Guess what I want to do for comfort? That’s right, eat. Despite all this my blood glucose levels, and
cholesterol levels, and blood pressure remain at good levels.
This past week, I had a follow-up appointment with my primary
doctor. My last appointment had been
about eight months ago. Both his nurse
and he commented on how good it was to see me walking and out of my
wheelchair. That actually was a good
reminder to me. Eight months ago, I had
been wheelchair bound for almost a year.
No matter how much I would wish for more improvement, I need to be
thankful for the progress and abilities that I am currently enjoying. Sometimes in the day to day struggle it is
hard to see that. Sort of like, “I
cannot see the forest for the trees.”
According to my records, since my amputation in December 2013, I’ve had
246 medical related appointments (including various doctor appointments, therapy
visits, labs, visits to the prosthetist, eye doctors, etc.). I’m a
busy guy and my insurance card gets a little hot since I’m using it all the
time! I continue to laugh at myself
remembering how I used to be frustrated because I had to take my mother to her
doctor appointments about every three to four weeks. Ha! I
got her beat; and a bit contrite over my past attitude.
I am thankful that I have the freedom to get out of the house and go on
an errand or two all by myself. I am
able to do the shopping (if I plan it right) or go to the gym. I have to be careful about how much I try to
accomplish each day because I only have so much energy and time before “the
meter on my leg expires” and I have to get home and ride the wheelchair the
rest of the day. I’m thankful for my
wife’s constant labor and for the help that kids give me when something is
beyond my ability (mowing the lawn is too much for me right now). I’m thankful for the extra time I get to
spend with my granddaughter—time spent with her is a healing balm! I’m thankful that I get to walk some each day
and am not in the wheelchair 24/7 currently.
I’m very grateful for my medical team who continue to strive to figure
out the unusual medical puzzle that I am.
And I am grateful to God for giving me this opportunity to continue to
enjoy life and that my life did not end on Thanksgiving Day 2013.
Life is much different than it used to be for me. I’ve found that it doesn’t do me any good to
wallow in memories about my past abilities and the life that I have lost. I have to focus on the good and awesome
things that I have opportunity to enjoy each and every day. I’ve come to realize that I will never
probably become a poster boy for amputees showing off how I am able to
accomplish amazing feats. I may never be
able to hold down another job. There are
many “normal” things that I may never do again.
All that I can do is to continue to do my best and live the life that I
currently have been given. I strive for
improvements and I pray for positive change; but I am learning contentment as
well. For right now, this is me. This is who I am. This is my life. And with God’s help, I choose to be okay with
that.
