I had my fourth surgery today. Hopefully, the capstone in my relentless campaign is to get ahead of my health by taking on existing problems and anticipating new ones. I feel good about it.

It was supposed to be minor surgery, but it sure doesn’t feel that way. More importantly, it was successful.

When I got home, the Imperious Hens were on their summer thrones, chasing Minnie away and occupying Maria’s Fiber Chair on the back porch. Minnie found a better spot just a few feet away.

This was a big deal.

Nothing less than my ability to be mobile and walk is on the line. My left foot had collapsed, steadily threatening my ability to walk and be mobile. I decided to take it on.

With my doctor’s agreement, I decided to meet this head-on and keep going until we figured it out.

Dr. Daly, my impressive podiatric surgeon, told me recently that on top of the big toe issues, I had a “hammer toe,” a toe that curved inward and threatened trouble down the road with my new brace.  The toe affected and landed me in the hospital. The surgery today was about straightening it out.

It isn’t a hammer toe any longer; in a grisly and unsettling procedure, she cut into my toe and cut the very tight tendon that was holding it down.

I couldn’t see it, there was a screen up in front of me, but Maria had a better view she could see the grimace on Dr. Daly’s face as she chopped up my toe, and I saw the bleak look on Nurse Karen’s face as she watched the surgery close up.  Dr. Daly had a tough time. She looked grim.

Maria had a better perspective than I did; she wrote a sweet piece about it on her blog when we got home. I’m sure those who read her blog have noticed, but she is a very gifted writer; it was clearly in her blood. She can describe it better than I can today.

(When Maria visits the hospital with me or sees Dr. Daly or any medical site, she often sketches the scene. I never saw Dr. Daly laugh so hard as when she saw the sketch. Come to think of it, I’ve never seen Doctor Daly laugh at all.)

I had tests of all kinds all week (one more Friday) and will know precisely how well I have done after three months of intense health care. When I got home, the Imperious Hens welcomed me by resuming occupying their summer throne, Maria’s fiber chair. Minnie is on a nearby sofa yielding her space.

I am nearing the end of a very ambitious and probably crazy effort to take care of my health and confront some existing issues simultaneously.

I didn’t want to string it out any further. Better to face it all at once. But it was a marathon, not a sprint.

Doctors often talk about “minor” instead of “major” surgeries. I am here to report that there is no such thing as a “minor” surgery. They are all uncertain, and confusing, and they affect every body part.

Usually, they hurt in one way or another. Healing can take a while, especially if you are older.

My first surgery this Spring was amputating the big toe on my left foot.

This is not diabetes or any other problem; it was a structural problem Years ago, my left foot began to collapse, even beyond being flat. This affected my angle of walking, which started to buckle and twist.  

Walking, which is the only sport I like, was beginning to hurt. I could imagine the future, and I didn’t like it. I decided to be reactive, not passive.

We tried all sorts of things for years – braces, unique socks, all kinds of orthotics, and none worked.

When I cut my foot a couple of years ago, my big toe started getting serious callouses that caused the wound to ulcerate. We tried all this time to knock it, but the ulcer wouldn’t heel. The big toe was in the way.

 

 

(When I got home today, and before the numbing wore off, I had to plant the new flowers I had bought on the way home. Maria didn’t even bother to try and stop me. Then I came in and conked out for a bit.)

It wouldn’t heal as long as the toe was there, so after many efforts to get around it, Dr. Daly and I decided to cut it loose.

I healed quickly. But I did not count on toe number two, the one right next to the big toe; I got blisters due to wearing special tight recommended socks and got infected. I came close to losing the toe and even the foot.

This is the third surgery (the second was sound waves trying to eradicate a growing kidney stone. Results aren’t in yet.)

The next chapter is getting a new brace to wear to get my foot facing in the right direction. That starts tomorrow.

It was daunting to take on these issues at once. The foot turned out to be complicated, and along the way, I determined that my heart was healthy and my diabetes was under control.

We change the type and volume of the insulin. One surgery came after the other.

Before we could get over one, another was right up on us.

Diabetes and heart disease is another story and, so far, a happy one.

One of the most important things I’ve learned is to treat doctors, nurses, and techs as humans, not servants or enemies.

I need to be able to communicate with them; that is perhaps the most crucial decision I made. It makes a world of difference. I listen to them, am being honest with them, and respect them.

They are humans, not Ethereal Gods,  just like me, and deserve to be treated with respect.

Their work is difficult and demanding.

I chose doctors affiliated with Saratoga Hospital so I can go to the same place and so they can easily communicate with one another and share information about my health and my medicines, and my history.

I don’t have to fill out forms everywhere I go. I don’t know what they put in people’s drinks, but they are the nicest, most empathetic, and most communicative medical people I have ever known. It’s a wonderful hospital with people who love what they do.

I was prepared for the surgeries but not for the aftermath. I needed more help than I arranged for or was expecting, and the burden was heavy on Maria. I have all sorts of restrictions on me I didn’t expect, like walking, showering, and wearing regular shoes. I have to be bandaged and use special antibiotic lotions every day.

Maria handled it all with skill and love, but it always turned out to be worse and more complicated than I expected. After the toe amputation, I couldn’t (still can’t) shower every day, had to wear an uncomfortable surgical boot (I’m still in it), and after the kidney stone surgery, my bladder went out of my control for about a month.

I could not have gotten through this without her, yet it brought us even closer together. Love can do some amazing things.

The effect of the cumulated surgeries has been to exhaust Maria and me; it was too much to take on all at once.

Yet it worked.

The toe is healed, the second toe should be recovered in a week, and hopefully, the tests will show that the kidney surgery was successful, my heart is firm, my kidney stone is gone, and I move ahead with my new brace and resume walking as often as I wish.

It has been a long and arduous process; the last two months were tough for both of us. But we are the fortunate ones; these are all things that can be helped or fixed. I am getting my strength back daily. I’m feeling better every day.

I used to avoid doctors and crowed about not trusting Western medicine. But Western medicine, for all of its troubles, does some things very well.

I learned not to hide from my health issues, but to learn about them, talk about them, and face them nose-to-nose.

I believe these four surgeries will make me healthier and prolong my life for some years. For all the hard work, I am glad I did this now while it really matters.

I didn’t want to wait until there were few or no choices.

I came out of this respecting, even loving, most doctors and nurses I dealt with.

They have taken excellent care of me and made this experience educational and, most often, a lot of fun.

I’ve learned that attitude is essential. I take out of it what I put into it: no whining, self-pity, or lamenting about my tough life or the travails of aging.

Life is what you make of it. Life is good if I know how to use it. I never speak poorly of my life. It might be listening.

I am proud to say I never missed a full day of work. I blogged daily, raised money for the college-bound refugee kids, and sent art supplies to the Mansion.

Bishop Gibbons is out for the summer; I’ll meet the new wave of refugee kids later.

Today, I stopped on the way home to get two more beautiful flowers for my garden – a deep blue Delphium and another beautiful and rare Garden Peone White Cap.

I stopped at yesterday’s farm stand and had some bun haggling.

Pictures are coming tonight. My foot was numbed for the surgery this morning, the medicine is wearing off, and I feel some pain, but it is not severe.

I’m told this may change tomorrow. Ibuprofen is nearby if I need it.

Walking again is the most important goal for me, the thing I have worked the hardest to be able to do. It’s looking good. I see the brace specialist in the morning for a fitting (if it’s still possible one day after surgery.)

We need peace, quiet, reading, picture-talking, and blowing gas on my blog. Thanks for following me on this roller coaster trek.

Next week, I have only one doctor’s appointment – Dr. Daly next Thursday to take the stitches off. No other doctor’s appointments all week. The numbing is wearing off; I’m heading for the Ibuprofen and a nap.

Thanks for listening. Photos and art photos are coming later this evening.