The simplest of things, the most profound of emotions

11 days ago at 5am, I stood in the shower taking my prescribed preoperative, disinfective shower. As I stood under the stream of water, I thought of what was to come. I worried about the possibility of losing sensation to my foot. I worried about the loss of active lifestyle.  However, I set my mind to be positive, stay positive, fear would not rule my emotions nor my recovery. I set my mind for this journey, for this fight whatever was to follow.

We all know the story now they opened my ankle, and it was obvious that the conservative option wouldn't work. She talked to my parents, got consent, and proceeded to do a wide excision. Pathology later confirmed that this was the right choice. The tumor had invaded the nerve and my old skin graft. This explains the numbness and nerve symptoms that have plagued me for months. A good decision was made, the chance I may not have to do this again. I only cried once when my best friend came in to see me the next day. I've been determined to stay positive, stay the course, to confront this and deal. To make my new reality fabulous, maybe even better than the old one.

So I spent 7 days in bed, my leg has not been below my hip in 11 days. Discharge prep began... My parents have been analyzing the bathroom in the apt to see how I could get in and out of it adn the shower from my wheelchair. We've discussed this with my OT, Mary. Then this morning, when Mary came to check on me, I asked again. She went and looked at the shower and said, let's see if you can shower here.... OMG, i said really? I called my dad, "can you bring shampoo over like now, I'm gonna shower.". My dear dad got dressed in 5 seconds flat and hightailed it to the hospital.

With Mary's help I made it into the shower, we high fived, and I smiled a true genuine happy smile. Since I made it there, she went to get the stuff for the next step, and I sat on the shower chair in my hospital gown, and all of a sudden it was too much. I started to sob, the tears just fell from my eyes, I couldn't stop. Something, so simple, something we all take for granted, a shower reduced me, ME, to tears. But it was so much more than that, so many emotions, they just flowed. I finally released myself to let it out. For a minute or two, that was all I'd give it.

Done with that I proceeded to take the most amazing shower of my life even though Lefty was propped up on the armrest of my wheelchair. It didn't matter. It was a simple unexpected luxury that I vow to never take for granted again.

Now, on to getting the heck out of this hospital!