And I’m in again….

So, it’s been a few weeks. Finally made it home on the 19th of July from East Grinstead QVH hospital. They were incredible. Their treatment and kindness blew me away. Unfortunately on discharge, and just before I started having pain in the back of my leg where the nerve catheter was situated. We hoped it was just bruising and swelling from the sheer quantity of fluid that had gone into my leg. So after a couple of days at home, the pain got worse, and a tennis ball sized lump started to form in my hamstring (muscle in the upper back of your leg). I couldn’t sit on it, or even touch it. Systematically I also wasn’t doing too well. My heartrate was permanently over 100bpm which is known in the profession as Tachycardia, and my blood pressure was very low. These are all signs of infection. After a few days I put through an econsult with my gp. I was told they would phone between 1-6 on the Friday, but no one called. By 8pm the pain was so unbearable that we made the decision to go to A&E.

So after a bit of a wait I was trialed, and seen by a lovely Dr, who said I had to be admitted. They were very busy, and I was told that when I got to AMU, which is an emergency ward, I would be given pain relief, and they would scan my leg or do an ultrasound, and would be started on antibiotics. She reassured that they would get to the bottom of it. Well, none of this happened. I spent over 12 hours in a bed begging for pain relief, and no one would listen. Not only that, but they took my own medication from my bag, without my knowledge when I was in the bathroom. I have a chronic pain condition, and can’t go without my usual medication, and they wouldn’t even give me those. They did no tests, gave no treatment, and basically ignored me completely. I asked why, and was told they were busy. There were 5 other people in my bay and all 5 relieved treatment. Yet I was treated like I was a junkie asking for meds. They made a judgement and that was that. It wasn’t until 13 hours when I had asked repeatedly to speak to the ward manager that she showed up. She was lovely, and had no idea of what I was suffering. She immediately gave me my own medication back and I told her I wanted to go home. The crps was out of control by that point. I was briefly seen by a Dr, and despite the overwhelming symptoms pointing towards an infection, he refused antibiotics. Over the weekend I deteriorated further. I saw my gp on the Monday, who said I needed immediate treatment. But I had to go back to the same place. Well I just broke down. I couldn’t bear to be treated that way again. But she was amazing and spoke to the manager. Told her what had happened, and asked if I could be seen in the other part of the ward. So I was. There I had an ultrasound where they found a large sack filled with fluid inside my muscle. I was started on antibiotics and let home with an appointment for a scan the next day. I had my scan which showed a huge amount of swelling and a large fluid filled sack. The next day I was admitted for treatment. I ended up on the sister ward of amu and they were much nicer. I ended up being moved to Wynard ward where they’ve been wonderful. I had the lump drained by an amazing consultant in radiology. It was filled with what he called, pea soup… lovely puss. He took one look at my observations and said that I was septic. I was immediately started on IV antibiotics and oral antibiotics… and here we are. They know there is stafflococcus in my leg, but not sure as yet if its the MRSA (MRSA is a type of bacteria that’s resistant to several widely used antibiotics. This means infections with MRSA can be harder to treat than other bacterial infections) or another type. So I’m in isolation just incase, and awaiting news from microbiology, hopefully tomorrow.

They have been lovely on this ward. All the nurses and Dr’s have been fantastic. My veins are all rather rubbish now, so if my antibiotics need to continue longer, I may need a more permanent solution, like a long line or central line. Pretty scary stuff to be honest. So now I’m just waiting for news. Crossing all fingers that I can go home soon, and finally be on the road to recovery. The access and infection are a very rare complication of having a nerve catheter. So of course, being the Queen of rarities, it was bound to happen to me 🤣. Still, onwards and hopefully upwards. I’m busy watching Nurse Jackie box set, and my wonderful wifey has been to see me every day, so can’t grumble too much. The TMR surgical wound is so neat and I think it’s already helping. So, hopefully good news for tomorrow 🤞

20 days and counting …

As you may have gathered, I’m still in hospital! I mistakenly thought I’d be in and out within 5 days. I was pre-warned that it could take a couple of weeks, or possibly longer, but I thought, I’m tough, I’ve been through lots already, I have a very high tolerance to pain… None of those things make any difference to any hospital stay. It is impossible to predict how you will recover, or how long it will take. I can say, that previous to this experience, I was certain that I had reached the very hight of my pain level. That pain couldn’t possibly be worse that CRPS flares with neuromas… I was wrong. CRPS flares, with surgery is far worse. I was warned, so it wasn’t lime I went into this not knowing that things would be tough. But usual me… I shrugged it off, and thought to myself ‘oh well, what’s a little more pain?’ Well, I can tell you… a lot!!! I’m feeling battered, bruised, sore, sick, tired, and missing my babies. All that said, however, things are steadily improving, and the care and treatment I have received here at the QVH hospital in East Grinstead has been just incredible. All of the staff are just to kind, and caring. They have been there for me through night and day. I know you must be thinking, well thats what is supposed to happen in hospital, well let me say… it doesn’t always happen. After being a Nirse myself for 14 years, I’ve seen a substantial lack in compassion within the field. Yet here, they all have oodles of it. They are warm, and friendly. They make me cups of tea in the night when I’m awake in pain. My surgeon Tania Cubison, the genius, always comes by every morning to check on me. The pain nurses have been in every day, trying everything they can to see me through the tough times. The anaesthetists have been to see me every morning and evening to administer boluses into the nerve catheter in my leg. I am honestly, truly amazed.

So, we have lowered my intravenous pain medications now, and are lowering the local anaesthetic meds going into the nerve catheter in my leg. The pain is rather bad a couple of times a day, which is when the anaesthetists step in. But we’re making improvements in that respect as well. The plan is that the nerve catheter needs to come out by the weekend, as its been in too long by that stage, and could increase risk of infection, which I definitely do not need. So watch this space. Hopefully I will be home by early next week, if not sooner 🤞

TMR progress…

I’ve now been in hospital 9 days. 8 days post op. Had my TMR (Targeted Muscle Reinnervation) surgery on Thursday last week. Had a bit of a rocky ride since then. My pain levels sky rocketed and not much seemed to bring it down, other than visits from an anaesthetist to put a bolus (big volume) of local anaesthetic into the catheter (tube) which was placed during surgery to administer constant local anaesthetic into my leg. We now think that the catheter was rubbing directly on a nerve, so causing more pain. So yesterday, the Dr’s had a pow-wow and decided to take the catheter out. The hope being that the pain would get better. It did with movement, but not anything else, intact it sky rocketed further. I spent the day screaming in pain. Never felt anything so bad. My CRPS was flaring, and my leg was killing, so it was back to theatre to have a new nerve catheter placed.

Now, the next morning, there is a significant improvement. My pain is back to its normal level. Which is amazing. Along with the pain before, the Dr’s tried a few new medicines. Wish we hadn’t, as they all seemed to cause the same reaction… Sudden Tachycardia (high heart rate over 100 bpm) and light headedness. One of them dropped my BP as well, and another caused extreme shaking all over my body. This happened 6 times in total. Rather scary. So now, today, I will be happy just to have a day with less pain, and no complications.

So now I’m still in East Grinstead hospital. I have to say, the staff are all absolutely amazing. Completely different to any other hospital stay I’ve had. They actually believe you when you say that your in pain. They don’t try to kick you out just because they are convinced you should be going home now! Unlike another hospital. Who decided that after a week, I shouldn’t be in as much pain as I was, and started to get quite impatient with me for being in pain!

Here is what hospital treatment should be like. Where nurses actually care, and no one makes you feel like your a burden. I’d actually consider moving here, just for better treatment! So, fingers and toes crossed for the next few days, and with no more blips, hopefully I will start to recover nicely.

The countdown begins…

In 3 days, or 4 including today, I will be taking that trip again to East Grinstead. This time for a few days (5-14 – depending on pain!). I will be having my TMR surgery. I must admit, a fair amount of trepidation this time. I’m not unfamiliar to general anaesthetics, this will be my 10th! Yet for some reason, this time I’m a bit scared! I think it’s because I will be so far from home, and my wife won’t be there when I get back to the ward, which so far, she always has been. But mixed with the anxiety is a ton of hope. Hope that this will work, and I will be able to wear flo (my prosthetic) again. Even if it’s just some of the time! I’d even take 20% right now! I’ve accepted the fact (mostly!!) that I can not run again, and my sports will need to be slightly different, but I can’t accept never walking again.

The above photo was taken last week. Yep, I’m back out there, training for my first half marathon using my wheelchair. On the 5th of September I will be wheeling through Bridgewater in their half marathon. I can’t wait. Then who knows? Hopefully a marathon next! My wife will be running it too, although she will probably have time for a cup of tea and a nap at the finish line, by the time I get there!! But it’s all good fun.

So with the pending hospitalisation in mind, a few people have asked what the most important thing is for one to take into hospital. So I have thought of a few, which I wouldn’t be without.

1) Ear plugs. Hospitals are supposed to be a healing environment, but trust me, you won’t get much sleep, especially post operation. As an ex registered nurse, I can tell you, I was one of those annoying people who would wake my patient at all hours to take their blood pressure! To put in needles, remove needles, pop in tubes, remove tubes, change dressings, check your daily oblutions! You name it, the list is endless. Plus, unless your accustomed to communal sleeping arrangements, you can pretty much expect that half the room will snore! So, ear plugs are a definite necessity.

2) My portable dvd player and a ton of dvd’s. Why do I take this, in this technical age of tablets etc.. Well you may be surprised to know that not all hospitals will let you have their WiFi password, and the tvs can be hideously expensive, up to £20 for 3 days in some places. So as a fail safe, I take my own entertainment.

3) Your own snacks and Tea bags! If your like me, and allergic to gluten, you can never tell what food your going to get. Although I have to say, so far it’s been pretty ok, the snacks are pretty limited. When I’m in pain I struggle to eat, and when I’m nautious, even more so. So I like to have my haribo to hand, which is about the only thing I can stomach when pain and nausea come calling. Tea bags… well, I can blame Piers Morgan for that one. I never used to be a Tea snob, until one morning, whilst watching GMB, good old Piers mentioned he only drinks Yorkshire gold. So one day I decided to see what the fuss was about… Needless to say no other Tea bags will now suffice, and as a result I will be taking in my own bags for a proper cup of tea!

As for other bits and bobs, it’s up to you. I would of course recommend pants and pyjamas, and some good reading. I will be taking in the first part of my manuscript to continue the editing process, which never seems to end! Plus a couple of books to read.

So for the next few days, and for a few before, I am on strict isolation. The boredom is setting in… although I have lots of work to do, I miss riding my hald bike and wheeling. But not long now and if all goes well, I will be back to it. Have a great weekend all 😁

It’s a Neuroma!!!

Finally, after two years of saying that I have pain, other than my crps in my stump, I finally had an MRI. The results showed a neuroma and a second area of thickening around my stump. Finally, after being rebuffed, ignored, made to feel awful… I was right. So, I recieved a call from Bristol to tell me the news. They said that there was a few treatments, but we’re still reluctant to do surgery or even touch it because of the CRPS! This is despite the fact that it would seem that the Neuroma(s) are setting of my CRPS. People are so focused on not setting off the crps, that they are prioritising it over long term treatment, basically confiding me to my wheelchair for life! Luckily for me, I had my appointment in East Grinstead, and the amazing team there see things differently. They believe in treatment, with the realisation that my crps may get worse, but they inform and let me decide.

During my visit, I had an ultrasound, which was thoroughly explained, and had the consultant present. I then saw my consultant, Dr Tania Cubison. She was amazing. She explained everything. I saw videos, photos, and was told the actual facts and statistics of probability of recovery. I felt fully informed, which I have to say, I’ve never had before. I don’t know if it’s because I’m a nurse, or weather others have had such treatment, but at my local hospital, I’ve never had as good a treatment as I did at East Grinstead. After I saw my Dr, I then saw a anaesthetist, who was again very thorough, and explained everything. Now this is a big thing for me, as when I went in for my amputation, I was taken into hospital 4 days before the surgery to have a block by the pain Dr, who didn’t show up to do it! As a possible consequence of this, my CRPS came back! The anaesthetist resured me that he will show up, and couldn’t believe that someone, or a service would be so unprofessional. He plans to put in a block the day before the surgery, and then they will place two other blocks when I’m unconscious. He stressed the importance of doing this so that they can ensure it works, and doing it right before having surgery, doesn’t give you a gauge of weather it is placed correctly, which is what happened to me!

Above is a picture of a neuroma.

So then I was off to see a pre op nurse. They were also very nice, and seemed quite knowledgeable. The were very thorough. I have never had bloods taken before in a pre op assessment either. I have also never been made to feel so welcome. I have to say, I am very glad I will be going there for my surgery. The thought of going to the Roayl Devon and Exeter again, where they’ve ignored me, treated me like a sub human, and neglected me, wasn’t very favourable. So this should be happening in August, we think. The plan is to do TMR surgery on three of my nerves. There will be an approximately 8-10 inch scar on the back of my leg. I have been told to expect a hospital stay of 3 days to 2 weeks, and their goal is to ensure my pain is under control before they kick me out. Another refreshing change…

We have a plan… I couldn’t be more relieved, and grateful to my friend Maggie, who without her referring me to this amazing specialist Doctor, I would not be in this fortunate position. It is amazing that I’ve had to go so far away, just to be taken seriously, and to have treatment. It angers me, as I’ve worked at the RD&E for almost half of my life, including doing my nurse training there. I’ve been a registered nurse there for 14 years. Yet I received such diabolical neglect, that they were just going to leave me in pain for the rest of my life. I still have not received an appointment with the pain team, despite 2 years of urgent referrals being sent. This is how poor the treatment has been for me… having none! Anyone with a Neuroma will tell you, it is excruciating, as is CRPS, and one sets off the other.

All I can do now, is wait for the date. I couldn’t be happier with East Grinstead. Just wonderful.

Oh Happy Day 😁

As many blog writers will tell you, through this therapy of sorts, you often receive contact from readers, and some even turn into friendships. I started conversing with my lovely friend Maggie quite some time ago when asking questions on amputee sites. Before my amputation, and when I first discovered I had CRPS, I found the lack of information out there quite astonishing, which is why I decided to write this blog in the first place. I didn’t think for a second that I would end up here, practically begging for treatment, and then finally finding that one Doctor who will help me, because of the amputee sites, and then this blog. Yes, with thanks to Maggie, huge thanks, who kindly put me in contact with her doctor, I am finally on the road to having a diagnosis, and I couldn’t be happier, or more thankful to wonderful Maggie.

I hope she won’t mind me talking of her, but she is one of the kindest people I have ever had the privilege of conversing with. She always checks up on me, and reads my posts, and her kindness has now put me on the road to treatment. For that, I am so greatfull and can’t thank her enough. I know she will read this, so to you Maggie, I thank you so so much.

So, last Wednesday I had a consultantation with a Doctor who is a specialist in stump issues. I was put in contact with her secretary, who booked the appointment. It was via zoom. I was extremely anxious, as I am so used to Doctors dismissing me and lumping everything under the CRPS brush. But to my amazement, she did not. She listened to my symptoms, and guided me through a self examination of my stump. The whole process took over an hour, which is the longest time I’ve spoken to anyone since the surgery. At the end she spoke of a couple of things which could be causing the problem, and what we can do about it. So, when I had surgery, the nerves are cut. When this happens they have nowhere to go and nothing to do, so they go a little nuts! Sometimes said nerves can also be fighting against a suture or clip put on the end of them! So she thinks that my popleteal nerve is either doing this or trapped. So the plan now is to do an ultrasound and some other tests to see if this is the case. This was the first thing which amazed me. I’ve been booked twice now for an MRI. Being told by the non specialists that this is the only way to find a neuroma. What if it isn’t a neuroma, I would ask? Well then we can’t help, they said! If I questioned it, I would be shut down and made to feel as if I had done something wrong. So to find a Doctor who is willing to explain, and say that an MRI is not only the best way, but not the only way to find issues, was just wonderful. It’s as if realising that your not mad!! So, now the plan is to await my appointment, and take the trip to East Grinstead for tests. If it shows what we suspect, then book for TMR surgery. I will explain what that is in future posts, if it is on the cards, but basically it will give my nerves a job to do, and stop them complaining so damn much!!

I honestly can’t even explain how happy I was after this consultation. Someone not only listed to me, but also may be able to help. It meant that some of those dreams which I had lost, may be achievable again. I may be able to walk again! (At least a small portion of the time, I will still have the crps! There is no cure for that bit!). But to have a chance of a reduction in the pain I’m in…and that is everything.

I celebrated with one of my first little wheels in ages!!

Dying for treatment!!

What crps look’s like! I’ve always been against showing stumpey, but to show people is to help them understand. I am not ashamed of stumpey!

Anyone with a chronic pain condition can testify that the road to successful treatment can be somewhat of a minefield, when you have more than one condition. This minefield becomes even more chaotic when Doctors can only see one condition, and deny the possibility, or sheer presence of another. Case in point – I have CRPS in my left stump. I also have this other, yet to be diagnosed issue. I saw a lovely Doctor (finally!!) Who I must say, seemed a little out of his depth, but couldn’t see past the CRPS. No matter how many different ways I explained the different types of pain I’m in, he just kept going back to the CRPS. Frustration doesn’t cover how I felt! On the day, I had my wife with me; and my Blesma representative (amazing veterans amputee charity) wrote a detailed email prior to my appointment, explaining the circumstances. Yet with two advocates, he still seemed to be blinkered to the possibility of something else. I started to feel like an orange ribbon, like the emblem of CRPS charities, and that’s all people see. The prosthetists, the physio, and now the 1st Doctor I’ve seen face to face (other than my GP, who is amazing!).

I am a registered nurse, and throughout my career I have been used to the medical terminology used, and how things work within the NHS, and am yet to receive any tests, or treatments, or interventions of any kind. Instead, I’ve been passed from pillar to post, around the roundabout and house’s, getting nowhere! Meanwhile, the pain and effects of pain, are taking away the enjoyable parts of my life. So I can’t help but worry what happens to those who don’t have an advocate, or a realisation of what should be happening? It’s not easy to speak up, and describe your own condition when your Doctor is telling you that what you are saying is rubbish! When they can’t see past your ‘other’ condition; or are simply out of their depth. How many people out there are desperate? Desperate for treatment? Desperate for someone to listen; really listen to them, so they can have their pain investigated and have a chance of a meaningful life. I have been a nurse for 14 years and have had the privilege of working with some magnificent Doctors and specialists, but I know first hand that anyone can slip through the cracks, or be ignored, or even not believed! This, despite the mantra which all us care givers are taught to abide – “pain is what the patient says it is”. Not all health professionals remember this! Instead we often get labeled as ‘junkies who are just after medication’, or they sometimes go to the other end of the spectrum by medicating, and medicating some more; chucking a plaster over it, instead of diagnosing it!

How many people with pain conditions have reached the point of absolute frustration? If a person is telling their care giver that they are in pain, isn’t it their duty to investigate why? And to treat them. If they refuse to do so, or ignore them; isn’t this pure medical negligence? When, my Mum was in agony with a variety of conditions, she said to me “If I was a dog, they would put me down”, yet we are left, suffering! These people who are responsible for leaving us with such suffering are basically condemning us to death, One way or another! When your pain is horrific and no-one will listen, or help… what else can you do? I was extremely worried and shocked when I learnt that according to a web based survey, 20% of CRPS sufferers had attempted suicide, and 46.4% reported suicidal intentions. This is shockingly 6x higher than those with depression, according to a psychiatry study. With statistics such as these, for my condition alone; can Doctors really justify their ignorance to people who are in pain? I would be lying if I said I hadn’t considered it. Especially with the pain of flare ups, and frustration of no intervention and poor treatment!

According to oatext.com, and I should imagine, anyone with a chronic pain condition – “chronic pain patients are at elevated risk of suicide”. Shouldn’t those who refuse to treat, refuse to listen, refuse to test, to diagnose, to intervene, be held accountable for their actions? Instead of leaving us to suffer? Shouldn’t they be referring us to those who do know how to treat our conditions? Those who may be interested! Isn’t that the definition of ‘proper care?’. Not condemning us to a life of suffering!

Happy times…

A few months ago; at college; in my English lesson, my teacher asked us to write a piece of creative writing about a time when we were happy. Usually my assignments have followed a similar path of 19th century crime; but this time I decided to use my own experience and share one of my happiest times. So I thought I would also share this with you. So this is a short story of my happiest times, by me; Lexi Alyx Chambers.

When you dream at night; or even have an afternoon daydream; what is it you dream of? For me, it’s simple – running. The feel of running along soft sand, dampened by the early morning tide.

I used to run at the first blush of each morning. From one end of the ocean front to the other, and back; in one continuous unbroken effort; culminating in a charge up and down the rolling dunes.

Years previous, I would have balked at the idea of running so far, so often; but at the time, I relished the prospect. Donning my ritualistic combination of runners apparel. My Asics Gel running shoes, and double layered, hyper-absorbent 1000 mile socks. My favoured, somewhat garish shorts made from tangerine coloured shell suit material; lightweight and easy to run in; although unfortunately rather decadent of 80’s fashion. More of a reminder; a level of familiarity to where it all began.

Thick beads of sweat would drip down my face; leaving a salty sting as they dampened my eyes; leaving behind a salty taste of the sea. My gate, almost silent; as my shoes kissed the sand beneath. Each step became miles; which passed in a wonderful, exhilarating blur. Movements so often practiced that they had become an automatic sense of perfection.

Some like to listen to music, traveling to the beat of an inspirational tune. I loved to run and think. Daydream of a better life. If only I had known back then; that I was already living it!

Each delightful morning would follow the same trajectory, culminating in roosting upon the ridge of the tallest dune. I would kick off my tight, suffocating running shoes and peel of my nasty socks dampened by the lather of my run. Feeling the morning breeze caressing my face; my feet; slowly drying the beads of effort from my expelled energy. Breathing in the salty flora; that fragrance which conjures a sense of delight, of peace, or joy to soothe the soul. The light would rise upon the horizon. A gift to anyone who dared to open their eyes to see the world awaken. Growing brighter with every passing moment; welcoming a brand new day.

Walking forward from the hills; the large masses of sand formed by aeolian processes. From the ridge of energy; standing to feel the steady warmth from the crystalline blanket of white. A million molecules of muted earth beads, massaging and exfoliating my weary feet; whilst sinking between my toes.

I would make my way to the darker hue of sand; dampened by the morning tide. The cool water soaked sediments relieving the heat. Waves crashing upon the shore with a soft hiss. Retreating slowly; inhaling. Then peeling away and reworking sediments; exhaling; spewing the torrents in an undulating surge and swell of the tide. As if the earth itself were breathing.

There stood I. Alone, content. Barefoot upon the sand. Breathing deeply the ocean carried air. Miles of dune fields amidst vacant pearl and copper sand. Hypnotised by the percussion, rhythm and steady roar of breaking waves. Feeling the cool breeze, within the pallet of colours, which grew brighter; dappling the sky; imparting their warmth, and comforting my tired sensibility. Hearing the happiness within, without uttering a word. Lost within the atmosphere; within my thoughts.

I was yet to find that life would decide to augment itself, with a lesson which I am yet to fathom. I was to learn a cruel sense of irony; to have surgery for pain in my foot; caused by the very thing I loved most; running. Only for the very thing which was supposed to be my cure; meaning the end of running for me. The multitude of surgeries were supposed to get me back there; back to running; albeit with the assistance of a carbon fibre half-leg, to replace the obsolete one which I was born with. Now, over a year later, I could not be further away.

At first my dreams felt shattered, but if the very activity I dream of taught me anything, it was to never give up. So although my dream will always be to run along the sand, and feel the cool water upon my feet / foot. Temporarily, I shall embrace the reality of my racing wheels, replacing my running legs; racing from afar, upon the beachfront.

The simplicity of running taught me about life. Every little thing can be broken down into one step at a time. If you look ahead at the whole journey, you remain lost in its longevity; but if you just take that first step, you never know how far you will be able to travel. It let me escape reality and gave me a focus to give everything my all. The past which I took for granted, has now become the dream which I long for. But for the time which I had it, I was happy.

Ive got a logo!

This is my new logo for the event. I have made some clothes trying to get things out there a bit. I have a hoodie, baseball cap, T shirt, vest, and a long sleeve T shirt. All with my logo on. Cat also has a hoodie. Theyre all awaiting sponsorship logos. I still havnt got any definate sponsors as yet. I am sending emails out all of the time. I will persevere and perhapse change the email. I was sent a T shirt and hoodie from Saltrock which will come in handy post training. Sunwise are also sending me a pair of sunglasses. All of these things are absolutely wonderful, but none of them are getting me closer to my goal. I need to get my event out there. I have been speaking to the British Legion about my wheelchair, and they said they would help me. Im just awaiting a home visit at the moment. Ive just joined BLESMA too. Which is for veteran amputees. They have also been really helpful so far, and will be sending someone out to help. So I have made some progress. Now keep all fingers and toes crossed for the new chair. I only have 15 to cross now, so I need help with the others.

I had a really nice suprise last week. Steel bones had put a feature on their facebook page and web page about me, and what Im doing. I thaught that was lovely. So things are getting out there more and more. But not enough yet. I despirately need some sponsors. But I think that everything is a learning curve, and what doesnt work the 1st time, may need to be changed and adjusted. I will not give up.

TRAINING:

This has been steady. The Gym sessions are going great. Getting some good strength and endurance. Were trying things that weve never done before, which is so much fun. The wheeling or pushing, some people call is, is going well in some ways. But I really just need the chair. The NHS finally came up with my replacement. I was really hopeful. I thaught that it must be a little better than the one I had. It futs better, in that the width of the seat is smaller, and so it fits, but that is it. The extent of the improvements stop there. It isnt lighter, even though its made up of half plastic! The seat is too short. The wheel I use for self propulsion is really difficult to grab and I cant use it without gloves. My padded gloves dont stick at all, like they used to with the other one. I could go on, and on. Safe to say, it is a huge disapointment. I went out today for my 1st training session and it was disasterous. Really slow. The wheels seem to love to go towards every gradient. It doesnt free wheel at all, even downhill! It does have anti tipping, which is amazing. I actually think that the red one was better for training, and thats saying something! But as always. I will keep trying. Keep plodding on. Theres always a plus side to everything. Maybe this is supposes to be this way. Give me some good strenth before I get my real chair. I hope so anyway.

Now it’s done!

So, at this point I was feeling pretty pleased with myself. I was wheeling about the hospital. I had taken my catheter out. I was off the pumps of morphine. I had to have my dressing taken off because I had blisters around my wound. But other than that, all was great. I made a lovely friend too. She helped me through some of my toughest days. When Cat (my wife of 11 years) came in to see me, which was every day, we all used to sit and talk. She made me laugh so much. Who would have thaught id make such good friends with a 75 year old?

So after being in hospital for 12 days, the Doctors decided that I was doing so well, and I could go home. This was the best news ever, so why did I keep on bursting into tears? Was it that I would miss my friend? Maybe I was scared of going home as Id been safe and looked after so well in hospital? Was it hormones? ( although it couldn’t be as that ship had saled last week!). Well, it turns out that It was none of those things.

*My 1st full day out of hospital. Lunch at Coal.*

Before I was aloud to go home, we had to get on top of the phantom pain that I was getting. It was pretty much constant. A very unpleasant mix of electric shocks and intense pain. So I was started on mirror therapy. It was the strangest feeling. I was sat with a mirror between my legs. Looking at a leg that was no longer there, and it flet like my leg was growing back! Like id had really bad pins and needles, and the blood was finally rushing to my foot. But it couldnt be! I no longer had a foot! I then did some exercises, which was also very strange, and then had to look at my foot relaxed again, and this time it felt like the blood was running out of my foot and it was going numb again. What an amazing organ our brain is!

I was aloud home on the Sunday. 13 days spent in hospital, and 9 days post op. All the while I kept on crying at nothing. It was so great to be home. To see my two little boys, Winkeypoo and Jelly bean. Dont worry, they are my cats, im not a complete odd ball!! They are kind of like replacement children though. ( I wont bore you to death with tales of my cats, as most devoted fur mummies will tell you, we can go on for days!).

Just incase you were wondering what they look like, grey and white is Winkeypoo & black and white id Jelly bean.

So I was home. I was really happy to be home. To eat some nice food. Not that the hospital food wasnt nice, because it was. Its just that as someone who is allergic to gluten, the menu had the same stuff on it every day. So unless you stay for 4 days or less, you get rather bored.

That evening, I kept on crying on and off. My poor wife must have thaught that I diddnt want to be at home. When this was definately not it. I love being home. I was in alot of pain.

The next day we went back to the hospital to visit my friend. She was waiting for a care package, so was really fed up with waiting. She was ready for home over a week ago. It was grear to see her, and a few other ladies who I had made friends with. From there we went out for lunch and then spent a nice evening watching movies. It was then that it happened….

I had a day dream. I was in a dark room, and in front of me was an old furnis. The door was open, and I could see the hot coals and fire bellowing. On the right hand side there was a large yellow bag, lined with a thick brown paper bag. I walked over to it and inside was my leg and foot. I stared at it for a minute and noticed that my toes were crying. It then spoke and asked me why Id done this. Why did I get rid of it?

Well, following this, I cried more than ever, and then It hit me. I was grieving for my leg. I was told that it could happen, but thaught it was kind of silly, and wouldnt happen to me (a sentance which you would think Id learnt to never use by now!). But here we were. Me sobbing like crazy, with Cat trying her best to console me. It took a while, but I finally came around.

The next day I felt so much better. I was not crying anymore. Cat had taken the week off work, so we were getting out and about. It was here that I started to realise all the things that my prosthetic councellor had told me about. All the things which she said I would find hard, and all the difficulties I would have. But I was home, and now I couldnt stop smiling.