I love receiving emails and comments on my blog. I invest a lot of myself into each post, never knowing who my audience is going to be on any given day. I have learned early in this endeavor that I never know who I am going to reach or what information they are seeking.
Last week I received an interesting email. I was contacted by an author who is in the process of doing research for an upcoming book. This author is well-established and has published numerous action/adventure books. The fact that a "real author" was reading my words in an attempt to gain insight into the life of an amputee not only thrilled me, but validated my efforts.
This author's research was apparent when he started asking me questions. He posed an interesting question. He wanted to know which was harder: the adjustment to the physical limitations and changes caused by the amputation or the grief over the limb loss.
Obviously, the physical impact of the amputation is the most obvious adjustment. After my amputation I had to walk on a prosthetic, shower with one leg as well as a multitude of other basic daily living activities. For months it seemed that daily I encountered a new physical obstacle that I needed to conquer in order to complete seemingly mundane activities. Learning to live my life as an amputee was both laborious and exhausting.
In many ways, the psychological impact of my limb loss didn't present itself during the initial adjustment period. I think I was so focused on learning how to live as an amputee that I didn't have time to really think about my new situation. I had a lengthy list of skills that I needed to learn in order to regain function. I was focused on each goal. When a new skill was mastered, I knew that I was moving towards independence and I was able to take pride in my accomplishment.
It wasn't until after I learned how to live as an amputee that the reality of my loss became apparent. When I was no longer focused on achieving independence I let my guard down, and the grief set in. I needed to mourn the loss of my leg. It was a process that was lengthier and more painful than I anticipated.
I was walking and appeared "normal" to those around me. Only a few friends and family, in whom I confided, knew the depths of my grief. I was distraught. I felt lost and inept. Grieving my leg threw me into a full blown identity crisis.
I was feigning happiness for so long that I began to wonder if I would ever feel true joy again. Slowly I began opening up and giving my feelings a voice. I realized that the more I acknowledged the pain, the more it seemed to dissipate. It was a long process, but eventually I realized my laughter and smiles were genuine.
Grieving any loss takes time. It is imperative that both the amputee and those supporting him or her realize that adjustment does not happen overnight. My family and friends circled around me, allowing me to talk and cry whenever I needed to. They reinforced that I had a lot to offer the world, and that I could continue to help others despite wearing a prosthetic leg. They told me that I was beautiful when I felt freakishly ugly.
I learned through this process that I am not the same person that I was before I lost my foot. I am stronger than I realized. I am a more secure, confident woman. I have more respect for health and for completing seemingly mundane activities. In many ways, my amputation has made me a better person.
I enjoyed speaking with the author and telling him my experiences. In my opinion, and through my experiences, the psychological adjustment was much harder than the physical. What do you think?
About Me
- Peggy
- I am a below knee amputee. More importantly, I am also Mommy to two boys, a very active 10 year old (Robby) and an mischievous toddler (Timmy). I have learned that being a parent with a disability can create some unusual and sometimes humorous situations. This blogger is available for hire! Let's talk and learn how a blog can expand your business.
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
Tuesday, March 09, 2010
I'm Fine... But Angry
The past few days have been torturous. I have been living with a high level of anxiety as I was eagerly waiting for the results of my biopsy. I tried to put the test out of my mind knowing that worrying was not going to impact the results. I was not successful.
At the risk of seeming dramatic, it felt like the future course of my life, at least immediately, was going to be dependent upon the telephone call that I was waiting to receive. In an attempt to gain control, I began making "worst case scenario" contingency plans. What would I do if I needed treatment? Who would take care of Robby? The horrible possibility of dying and leaving Robby haunted me day and night.
Unfortunately, I have learned that hospitals and doctors are adept at prescribing tests, but are lacking an adequate result delivery protocol. I was worked into the schedule for my biopsy within 24 hours. I was forced to wait for the results for nearly four days.
Four days, which were spent worrying, fretting and crying whenever I was alone. Four long days of jumping with each ring of the telephone only to have my heart sink when the caller ID revealed that the number was not originating from my doctor's office. Four days of trying to keep busy, and feigning happiness so that Robby would not become upset.
I have finally received the sought after results. My worrying was unfounded. My worst case scenario plans are not necessary. My biopsy was negative. I am fine.
My emotions at the moment feel odd. While I am ecstatic that I am healthy and that my biopsy was negative, my joy is mixed with anger. The turmoil I have been forced to endure the past four days has been the unnecessary because my results simply were not being communicated to my doctor.
Communication among medical personnel needs to be facilitated so that the patient does not become lost. I should not have been forced to live in a bubble of uncertainty for the entire weekend. I have learned that the lab knew my results Friday afternoon.
Both my physician and I should have received the verdict immediately. Instead, my results and, in a very real way, my future, were sitting in a stack on somebody's desk awaiting an open fax machine. The patient's feelings, my feelings, were probably never considered as a reason to expedite the delivery of the results.
With the news that I am cancer-free, I feel as if I can resume living my life. I am thankful that I am healthy, and I plan on staying proactive concerning my health. I understand that the lab technicians and doctors are busy. There are many unsung heroes within the health profession who never forget that they are dealing with a real person, not just with a cluster of cells. I regret that my biopsy did not land under the microscope of one of these individuals.
I am happy that I am cancer free. I have never taken good health for granted and this experience has caused me to value it even more. I am angry that I was forced to live in an unnecessary state of fear. I plan on communicating my experience with the hospital in the hopes that another individual never has to live with such fear and uncertainty awaiting results that have already been read. Delivering results needs to be as much of a priority as obtaining the sample!
At the risk of seeming dramatic, it felt like the future course of my life, at least immediately, was going to be dependent upon the telephone call that I was waiting to receive. In an attempt to gain control, I began making "worst case scenario" contingency plans. What would I do if I needed treatment? Who would take care of Robby? The horrible possibility of dying and leaving Robby haunted me day and night.
Unfortunately, I have learned that hospitals and doctors are adept at prescribing tests, but are lacking an adequate result delivery protocol. I was worked into the schedule for my biopsy within 24 hours. I was forced to wait for the results for nearly four days.
Four days, which were spent worrying, fretting and crying whenever I was alone. Four long days of jumping with each ring of the telephone only to have my heart sink when the caller ID revealed that the number was not originating from my doctor's office. Four days of trying to keep busy, and feigning happiness so that Robby would not become upset.
I have finally received the sought after results. My worrying was unfounded. My worst case scenario plans are not necessary. My biopsy was negative. I am fine.
My emotions at the moment feel odd. While I am ecstatic that I am healthy and that my biopsy was negative, my joy is mixed with anger. The turmoil I have been forced to endure the past four days has been the unnecessary because my results simply were not being communicated to my doctor.
Communication among medical personnel needs to be facilitated so that the patient does not become lost. I should not have been forced to live in a bubble of uncertainty for the entire weekend. I have learned that the lab knew my results Friday afternoon.
Both my physician and I should have received the verdict immediately. Instead, my results and, in a very real way, my future, were sitting in a stack on somebody's desk awaiting an open fax machine. The patient's feelings, my feelings, were probably never considered as a reason to expedite the delivery of the results.
With the news that I am cancer-free, I feel as if I can resume living my life. I am thankful that I am healthy, and I plan on staying proactive concerning my health. I understand that the lab technicians and doctors are busy. There are many unsung heroes within the health profession who never forget that they are dealing with a real person, not just with a cluster of cells. I regret that my biopsy did not land under the microscope of one of these individuals.
I am happy that I am cancer free. I have never taken good health for granted and this experience has caused me to value it even more. I am angry that I was forced to live in an unnecessary state of fear. I plan on communicating my experience with the hospital in the hopes that another individual never has to live with such fear and uncertainty awaiting results that have already been read. Delivering results needs to be as much of a priority as obtaining the sample!
Monday, March 08, 2010
The Return of Robby Rotten
I was in the grocery store the other day armed with my list and a stack of coupons. I left Scott and Robby in the chip aisle where they were happily shopping for salty snacks. I was a few aisles away, enjoying a few fleeting moments of shopping solitude.
As I was rummaging through my envelope trying to retrieve a coupon for Ziploc bags, I heard a horrible screeching sound. At first it sounded like a pig being slaughtered. Then I realized that it was a child screaming. Actually, screaming is an understatement. This child was in full blown tantrum and was wailing. I felt horrible for the parents.
Having a child throw a tantrum in the middle of a store can be a frustrating and humiliating experience for the parents. I always worry that others are judging my parenting abilities as Robby throws himself on the floor, typically close to the bakery, and screams. Other than removing ourselves from the store, there is no delicate way to deal with this uncomfortable situation.
After hearing the screaming for almost a minute, I became concerned. This decibel of screeching just didn't seem natural. It sounded unlike any tantrum I've ever heard. I began to worry that the child was in pain or was scared. I went to investigate.
I walked towards the screaming and discovered that I wasn't alone with my concerns. I was following along with at least 10 other shoppers who were investigating the commotion. As I turned the corner I felt a sense of impending doom.
Imagine my horror when I discovered that the screaming child was mine. Robby was in the middle of a full blown tantrum in the center of the chip aisle. Scott was standing next to our screaming toddler, unsure of what to do with such an ill-behaved little hellion.
I worked my way through the crowd and claimed Robby Rotten. I carried him, kicking and screaming to the front of the grocery store. Scott then carried him to the car while I checked out. I would have left the groceries in the cart, but that would have necessitated a return trip to the store later that evening. This was not a place I wanted to return to in the near future.
We are still unsure what prompted Robby's tantrum. Lately my sweet little boy morphs into Robby Rotten for no known reason. I attribute this to his age, although part of me worries. After all, he was supposed to be born on 6/6/06!
As I was rummaging through my envelope trying to retrieve a coupon for Ziploc bags, I heard a horrible screeching sound. At first it sounded like a pig being slaughtered. Then I realized that it was a child screaming. Actually, screaming is an understatement. This child was in full blown tantrum and was wailing. I felt horrible for the parents.
Having a child throw a tantrum in the middle of a store can be a frustrating and humiliating experience for the parents. I always worry that others are judging my parenting abilities as Robby throws himself on the floor, typically close to the bakery, and screams. Other than removing ourselves from the store, there is no delicate way to deal with this uncomfortable situation.
After hearing the screaming for almost a minute, I became concerned. This decibel of screeching just didn't seem natural. It sounded unlike any tantrum I've ever heard. I began to worry that the child was in pain or was scared. I went to investigate.
I walked towards the screaming and discovered that I wasn't alone with my concerns. I was following along with at least 10 other shoppers who were investigating the commotion. As I turned the corner I felt a sense of impending doom.
Imagine my horror when I discovered that the screaming child was mine. Robby was in the middle of a full blown tantrum in the center of the chip aisle. Scott was standing next to our screaming toddler, unsure of what to do with such an ill-behaved little hellion.
I worked my way through the crowd and claimed Robby Rotten. I carried him, kicking and screaming to the front of the grocery store. Scott then carried him to the car while I checked out. I would have left the groceries in the cart, but that would have necessitated a return trip to the store later that evening. This was not a place I wanted to return to in the near future.
We are still unsure what prompted Robby's tantrum. Lately my sweet little boy morphs into Robby Rotten for no known reason. I attribute this to his age, although part of me worries. After all, he was supposed to be born on 6/6/06!
Sunday, March 07, 2010
Happy Birthday Scott
Happy Birthday Scott. You are a wonderful husband and fantastic Daddy. Robby and I love you very much.
Sleep in and relax today. We won't even bug you when you are watching your race. In honor of your birthday, you can eat potato chips in bed and I won't complain about the crumbs!
Sleep in and relax today. We won't even bug you when you are watching your race. In honor of your birthday, you can eat potato chips in bed and I won't complain about the crumbs!
Saturday, March 06, 2010
What I Know... Which is Nothing.
I was promised the results from my needle biopsy yesterday. I stayed home all day, jumping each time the phone rang. I should have known better than to trust a physician concerning a time line. Doctors lie.
When it became clear that I wasn't going to receive the results yesterday, I was optimistic that I would hear something today. Again, we have been held hostage by the possibility of news. With each ring of the telephone my heart jumps and my anxiety rises. I am only able to exhale when I see my Mom's number on the caller ID, calling to see if I've heard anything.
I have not heard anything conclusive. However, I have decided to look at the situation from a different perspective. Perhaps it is an attempt at self-preservation.
Doctors are quick to call when they have bad news to deliver. Good news tends to get pushed aside, as it is only a priority for the family. Good news means that the doctor does not have to provide further care. Therefore, they are not efficient delivering the news. At least, this is my newest theory.
I have decided that my biopsy is negative. I am going to try to stop worrying as much, secure with my bad news equals a quick result theory. Until I am proven otherwise, this is my current position.
The weather is beautiful. The sun is shining, and birds are beginning to sing. Robby is sitting in front of the television, watching Little Bear and playing with his trains. I am sitting in my glider, staring at the telephone. I have been hesitant to go outside and play with him because I didn't want to miss a call.
I am not going to be tethered to my home because of the possibility that I might receive a phone call. For my own sanity, I need to go about my normal day. I am going to have Robby put on his froggy boots, and we are going to go outside to play.
Whoever calls can leave a message. I will continue to keep you posted. In the meantime, we have some puddles to jump in!
When it became clear that I wasn't going to receive the results yesterday, I was optimistic that I would hear something today. Again, we have been held hostage by the possibility of news. With each ring of the telephone my heart jumps and my anxiety rises. I am only able to exhale when I see my Mom's number on the caller ID, calling to see if I've heard anything.
I have not heard anything conclusive. However, I have decided to look at the situation from a different perspective. Perhaps it is an attempt at self-preservation.
Doctors are quick to call when they have bad news to deliver. Good news tends to get pushed aside, as it is only a priority for the family. Good news means that the doctor does not have to provide further care. Therefore, they are not efficient delivering the news. At least, this is my newest theory.
I have decided that my biopsy is negative. I am going to try to stop worrying as much, secure with my bad news equals a quick result theory. Until I am proven otherwise, this is my current position.
The weather is beautiful. The sun is shining, and birds are beginning to sing. Robby is sitting in front of the television, watching Little Bear and playing with his trains. I am sitting in my glider, staring at the telephone. I have been hesitant to go outside and play with him because I didn't want to miss a call.
I am not going to be tethered to my home because of the possibility that I might receive a phone call. For my own sanity, I need to go about my normal day. I am going to have Robby put on his froggy boots, and we are going to go outside to play.
Whoever calls can leave a message. I will continue to keep you posted. In the meantime, we have some puddles to jump in!
Friday, March 05, 2010
Not Exactly What I Planned...
It has occurred to me that I need to take better care of myself. I have been lax when it comes to making sure I carve out "me time." I feel selfish taking time to pamper myself when I know that I should be working around the house or playing with Robby and Scott. The days in Chicago have reinforced what I already knew to be true. I am a much better wife and Mommy when I remember to take time for myself. I am trying to do better.
I also need to confess that I have been an irresponsible Mommy by not taking better care of my health. If I am not healthy, I am not able to care for Robby and he still needs me. I was referred to a specialist in Pittsburgh for the treatment of the pituitary tumors which were diagnosed in August. I have been playing a one-sided game of phone tag trying to obtain an appointment and treatment direction.
I have not been assertive enough with my messages. I should have insisted on a call back. I should have called daily, and then hourly, until I received a response. Life intervenes, and I suppose I wanted to ignore the obvious. I need treatment for the growths. Truth be told, I'm scared.
Finally, I was able to contact the specialists at the University of Pittsburgh. I am being scheduled for some tests in my home area, and then I will travel to meet the doctor. I don't have a specific date, but I feel that I am at least moving in the correct direction. Progress--so the fear which has been building seems to be abating!
Yesterday I went to my OB/GYN for my routine physical. Upon examination, a lump which was detected in my breast last year by the physician seems to have grown. She darted out of the room as soon as the physical was complete.
After I dressed, the doctor returned with a fistful of papers. I was informed that I needed a needle biopsy, and that it has been scheduled for the following afternoon. Wow! I went for a physical, and I left the office with an appointment for a biopsy. My head is spinning.
I was assured that, in all probability, the biopsy will be negative. I am a cancer survivor, so I am always scared. I know that it is prudent to be proactive. I would rather have more tests that yielded nothing than not have it checked and wishing that I had done something.
Part of me is regretting the commitment I made to take better care of myself. My efforts seemed to have yielded nothing but worry and more work. I now have to drive to Pittsburgh to meet with pituitary doctors. I also need to have a biopsy and follow up with a breast specialist.
Knowledge is power, and I know that I will rest easier when I am in control of my health. Regardless of the outcome, I know that I am strong. Health problems cannot be wished away, and it would be irresponsible to try. I am hoping that, by committing to take better care of myself, I will feel refreshed and energized. Trying to find the bright side, perhaps I can catch up on reading my out of date magazines in the doctors' offices and relax in the car when I drive to Pittsburgh.
** I will update the blog when I receive my results. Fingers crossed!**
I also need to confess that I have been an irresponsible Mommy by not taking better care of my health. If I am not healthy, I am not able to care for Robby and he still needs me. I was referred to a specialist in Pittsburgh for the treatment of the pituitary tumors which were diagnosed in August. I have been playing a one-sided game of phone tag trying to obtain an appointment and treatment direction.
I have not been assertive enough with my messages. I should have insisted on a call back. I should have called daily, and then hourly, until I received a response. Life intervenes, and I suppose I wanted to ignore the obvious. I need treatment for the growths. Truth be told, I'm scared.
Finally, I was able to contact the specialists at the University of Pittsburgh. I am being scheduled for some tests in my home area, and then I will travel to meet the doctor. I don't have a specific date, but I feel that I am at least moving in the correct direction. Progress--so the fear which has been building seems to be abating!
Yesterday I went to my OB/GYN for my routine physical. Upon examination, a lump which was detected in my breast last year by the physician seems to have grown. She darted out of the room as soon as the physical was complete.
After I dressed, the doctor returned with a fistful of papers. I was informed that I needed a needle biopsy, and that it has been scheduled for the following afternoon. Wow! I went for a physical, and I left the office with an appointment for a biopsy. My head is spinning.
I was assured that, in all probability, the biopsy will be negative. I am a cancer survivor, so I am always scared. I know that it is prudent to be proactive. I would rather have more tests that yielded nothing than not have it checked and wishing that I had done something.
Part of me is regretting the commitment I made to take better care of myself. My efforts seemed to have yielded nothing but worry and more work. I now have to drive to Pittsburgh to meet with pituitary doctors. I also need to have a biopsy and follow up with a breast specialist.
Knowledge is power, and I know that I will rest easier when I am in control of my health. Regardless of the outcome, I know that I am strong. Health problems cannot be wished away, and it would be irresponsible to try. I am hoping that, by committing to take better care of myself, I will feel refreshed and energized. Trying to find the bright side, perhaps I can catch up on reading my out of date magazines in the doctors' offices and relax in the car when I drive to Pittsburgh.
** I will update the blog when I receive my results. Fingers crossed!**
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