Prelude

On November 24, 1999, I kept an appointment at the hospital to have an arteriogram. They admitted me that day because they could not find a pulse below my right knee. On December 23, 1999 I checked out of rehab after having had a right below knee (RBK) amputation. The range of emotions I experienced during those thirty days defies imagination. The fear, the pain, the anger, joy, doubt and relief were unimaginable. Did I mention fear? The feeling that I was hanging on to the cliff of my life, by my fingertips, was constant.

Lack of knowledge was one of the biggest obstacles to my recovery. For example, I found that people in the health care and health services industries certainly have an expectation that they can solve your problem. The surgeon can saw your leg off and staple up the ‘stump,’ but can he help you heal? The prosthetist can build you a new leg. And he will, but often there is no partnership. They have made the leg with all the technology and knowledge at their disposal (that your insurance will cover), and what’s more, they have made it just for you. It will and must work. Don’t get me wrong, these are great people – hard working and caring. They are professionals and good at what they do. I would not trade my CPO (Certified Prosthetics Orthotics – code word, legman) for all the tea in China. But many are one-dimensional.

That’s another one of the problems. Everyone is one-dimensional. Even while in the hospital, moving from one floor to another, each department is one-dimensional. On the main floor in general population you are likely to be ignored, probably because the staff is short-handed and overworked. And let’s face it, not all nurses share the same level of dedication