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MEDICAL EXAMINER recipe feature PAGE 7

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AIKEN-AUGUSTA’S MOST SALUBRIOUS NEWSPAPER • FOUNDED IN 2006 M E D I C I N E

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AUGUST 18, 2017

P E R S O N

I dropped a can of paint on my foot When I look back on my life a year ago, I can hardly recognize the life I’m living today. I still had two legs back then. Things can change so quickly. I was on vacation from my job at the end of July last year, so I had some time to do things around the house. I was going to do some painting, and I was carrying a 1-gallon can of paint when I dropped it on my foot. I was barefoot, but the hard solid rim part of the can missed me. The can was sideways when it hit my foot, but it still hurt. I didn’t know whether it was broken or not, but it swelled up so bad that I went to the Emergency Room that night, Saturday night. They took X-rays and said it wasn’t broken and referred me to another doctor on Monday. By then my foot was swollen twice its normal size, so that doctor prescribed pain medicine and anti-inflammatory medicine and told me to come back in a week. That’s when it got real. The doctor told me I had to have surgery. Immediately. Right there in the hallway he looked at me and said, “You are septic.” My wife and son and I didn’t really understand what that meant, so then he said, “You have a flesh-eating virus. You are dying. You have an infection that is spreading throughout your entire body.” I had the same virus (necrotizing fasciitis) as the girl who came to Augusta with the zip

line accident. They took me into surgery and cut off my little toe and went deep up the side of my foot all the way up to my ankle. A day or two later I had to go back into surgery because the infection was still raging. That time they amputated my whole foot, and then the third and final operation they took off my leg just below my knee. I was in the hospital for two more weeks, then I transferred to Walton Rehab for four weeks. After everything healed, I was fitted for a prosthetic leg, which has been a big help. A neoprene sleeve fits over my leg [the stump], and then a hard plastic shell at the top of the prosthetic leg goes over the sleeve and the leg is in place. I go to the gym, I cut the grass. I can get down on my knees. The other day I had to get under my house to do some work. I can do everything that I used to do. That’s what anyone in this situation needs to remember: an amputation is not the end of the world. It’s just a side step. I have to tell myself I won’t let this beat me, because it almost did. When it first happened I had plenty of days of depression. Before the surgery the pain was so great at times that I contemplated suicide. Then I wanted to shoot my foot off. But you always have to keep reminding yourself that there is somebody out there who has it a lot worse than you, and they want to live. It might seen strange to say, but this is the

And it had to be amputated

A monthly series by an Augusta drug treatment professional

WHAT?!?! RECOVERY TAKES A LIFETIME?!?! by Ken Wilson Executive Director, Steppingstones to Recovery ended last month’s column with these words: “For many, recovery is a regimented lifetime process. Did I say lifetime? Yes, I said lifetime. Why? Later, I promise.” As an aside, let me make a confession. Two and a half years ago I signed up for the Weight Watchers program. I stayed in it, dedicated to the letter of their law, for 9 months. I lost 50 pounds of baggage in 6 months! I’m a reasonably smart guy, and a vegetarian to boot, but I

simply was not able to counsel myself on weight loss. So every week I drove to my meeting, weighed in, holding my breath for good news from the WW Police there (at least that’s how I looked at ‘em!) and never gained an ounce. In fact, I averaged a 2-pound weekly weight loss. I also biked 10 miles a day (I only missed 5-6 days for 6 months!) which helped. After 9 months I told myself, “I don’t need to pay this fee anymore. I can do this by Please see RECOVERY page 6

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Please see FIRST PERSON page 10

THIS IS YOUR BRAIN


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