MY LIFE, MY WAY
So my claim to fame it’ s not a pretty story. In early January 2022, I was diagnosed with an autoimmune disease called Lupus, which essentially means my immune system attacks its own tissues. My particular Lupus attacks my blood cells, vessels, and my kidneys, which all resulted in zero blood flow being able to get to my foot. This led to the decision to amputate and while this was extremely hard, it has opened up a whole new world to me, including bringing my running blade Stompy into my life. This column is not a let’ s feel sorry for the girl who lost her leg column. No, this is me living my life my way, one day at a time.
Since my diagnosis, you can imagine how many times I have been poked and prodded with needles galore. You would also think that I wouldn’ t even notice anymore, well you could not be more wrong. I am extremely squeamish. In 2019, my dad dislocated his finger and while everyone rushed to help him, I had to sit down. I was so nauseous I was seeing stars. Oh the irony, me being the squeamish girl, yay lucky me.
After my amputation at the end of January 2022, walking into our house was like walking into a war zone where the wounded lay scattered all over the ground. My dad, Mark, had a melanoma and lymph nodes removed, as well as a skin graft.
Bandaged from hip to toe, he was lying alongside poor old me who had had my leg amputated.
The two of us home alone, who would change the endless bandages and plasters both of us required? That would be little old squeamish me. We were the plot line of a comedy skit. Me with a glass of sugar water to stop me from fainting, pulling off the bandage and plasters slowly off my leg, trying to stop the upchuck that threatened every couple of seconds, sips of sugar water in between. When I got myself sorted, the whole process would start again when I changed my dad’ s bandages.
I would love to say that the experience got easier and that today I am less squeamish, but unfortunately, it is no better, and it seems it runs in the family. We had an unfortunate event in the hospital where, upon removing a drip, blood sprayed everywhere thanks to blood thinners. Let’ s just say my sister handled it even worse than I did.
And now you know something about me, so why is this important?
When I was lying in my hospital bed recovering, I knew that I needed something
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