Two weeks ago, my surgeon in LA told me "I've never seen the intrinsic muscles in the foot come back after being atrophied for so long. You may need to prepare yourself that this is your new normal." What? I can't stand, I am severely limited in the shoes I can wear, I hurt all the time (I mean all the time, ALL day, every day). How can this be as good as it will get. I cried, I called my dear friends and family for support. I grieved this loss. I tried to process it.
After a few hours/ days, I came to the conclusion that if this is as good as it will get for me, that's OK. I have my foot, I can swim, I can ride, I'm starting to run, I can live my life. Yes, the pain sucks. I hate the pain, but I'm still glad my foot is my own. Sensation or no. Someone wanted to cut my leg off, but my tenacity said no there must be another way. So, I had to found that other way, and I'll find a way to make this work too.
Still I held onto hope. No one was saying it was impossible, just that they hadn't seen it. Maybe my doctors in NewYork would have a different theory, different info. I prayed silently in the night for that to be so. My dear friends propped me up supported me, said those prayers with me. I knew I'd make it OK, I just wanted to be told, I wasnt' in this pain for no reason.
Fast forward a few weeks and I'm in New York in my ortho oncs office, she says yes its possible I'll get the muscles back, never as robust, never as strong, but back yes. She says the pain should improve over the next 6 months to 1 year, the muscles may take up to 2 years, but she believes. I believe too, I choose to believe in hope. I choose optimisim.
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