On a Mission!

After so many years of "walking on broken glass," it's difficult for me to envision life any other way.  But through the years, I've held on to this inner certainty that if we can put a man on the moon; if we can create a world in which everything is a click away; if we can take people from actual near death experiences back to life; then it should follow that a three-inch square area on someone's foot absolutely CANNOT control his or her life!


I've also held on to the reality that there is nothing fatal about having "bad feet." With so many people I know fighting cancer and other serious diseases, I can be grateful for the fact that I am basically a very healthy person, aside from chronic pain issues. Again, this can hurt me, but it will never kill me. 


Many years ago, I passed an examination room in the doctor's office where a patient sat with an entirely BLACK foot. The black area extended all the way to her knee. I was deeply moved by that sight and fiercely fought back tears. I sensed that this lady was about to hear that she would lose her leg. At that point, it seemed almost selfish of me, as the next person to see the same doctor, to whine that "my feet hurt." So many times, I've grappled with the feelings evoked by that vision. Years later, I still think of her. But in the end, I've had to remove myself from that lady's situation. Instead, I face the reality that I continue to have foot pain. Yet deep in my heart, I refuse to accept that nothing can be done to help me.


With all this in mind, I was STILL on a mission to find help for my feet! This three-inch square of my body is on it's way to the moon and I am on my way to walking on sunshine!


We made the 5-hour drive to Houston in May 2012, to see Dr. Grant Braly and have him take a fresh look at a patient he hasn't seen in 22 years. He would see a patient he's tried to repair at least four times - twice on each foot. And for a while, his repairs worked and I experienced relief. But eventually, the nerve endings regenerated and the awful nerve pain, stinging and burning would return. Was there any reason to expect that the same thing wouldn't happen again? What was I doing here? We would soon find out. Although he may have had a little trouble making a name and face connection; once he saw the plethora of scars on my feet, he knew exactly who I was. In all, there were eight old surgical scars on my right foot and at least six on my left foot. 


As usual, the visit began with x-rays which he studied closely. We talked about the progression of pain and how much it continues to interfere with my daily life. The entire time we talked, he "kneaded" my feet as though he had a handful of bread dough. From one end to the other; first the right and then the left foot. He pressed the bony protrusions and then watched me writhe in pain as he pressed on the nerve centers.


Finally, he began to explain all the things he believed were wrong with my feet at this point. More importantly, he told me that a procedure had been developed to "bury" the nerves into bone and muscle. Instead of regenerating as they had in the past, the nerves would grow into the bone and muscle. Once this happened, nerve pain, stinging and burning should cease. This was the most exciting news of the day. He explained that he had used this nerve burying procedure for several years and had had great success with it. Finally, the good news!


We discussed that since my feet are very small, there may be a problem finding enough bone and muscle mass to bury the many nerve problems he could feel. But he didn't expect that would be a problem which made me appreciate his broad knowledge, confidence and experience. He explained that an MRI would have shown all the bundles of nerve masses. But even without an MRI image of them, he could feel the neuromas that had to be addressed. Additionally, he found several bony areas that were causing friction and pain. There was a large bone spur that had developed under my fourth and fifth toe that helped to explain some of the "new" pain. He explained how each area would be repaired. He asked us to take our time and think about it. If I decided to have the surgery, we would approach one foot at a time. I had to be able to support the weight of my body with the other foot which endures its own set of problems.


Barry and I knew the routine, having been through it so many times before. At this point, planning for the surgery and extended recovery was the mission at hand. Eventually, we made the appointment for the first surgery and booked a hotel room a few blocks away.


Is pain a good reason to opt for surgery? Most of us are familiar with the common phrase "when your feet hurt, you hurt all over." For me, that takes on a very literal meaning. I've described it as "standing on a toothache." 


Many times along the way, I've had to question myself, realizing that in many aspects, this is "elective" surgery. As I mentioned, I am healthy and not in danger of losing life or limb. But I truly believe that "elective" and "optional" are not one in the same. This was not to improve my appearance or enhance certain areas of my body. This was to augment my quality of life; to enhance my pursuit of enjoyment.


Finally, on May 21, 2012, the time arrived. We checked into Texas Orthopedic Hospital early on Monday morning. I talked with Dr. Braly before surgery and asked a few questions about how he would approach the numerous problems affecting my foot. For example: if the nerves branch out like a tree, would he be trying to track down every painful branch, or would he be going after the trunk of the tree? He explained that he would cut the branches away from the trunk; and then bury the trunk into the bone and muscle. No matter what the surgery entailed, I was ready. 


Since Dr. Braly is an educator as well as a surgeon,I agreed to having students observe the surgery and have it videoed and used for classroom studies. Since my particular combination of foot problems is extremely rare, he expected that it would definitely be studied by many orthopedic foot surgeons.


In my quest to find help, I have always faced the same question. What kind of worth do we place on  'quality of life?' Is improved quality of life reason enough for surgery? In all cases, the answer was the same for me. My quality of life had been gravely compromised and I'm ready to change that. 


At the end of my life, will I wish I had chosen to dance that last dance without pain? Absolutely!

Facing the Facts

It's been 22 years since my last foot surgery and I have persistently sworn that I would never allow anyone to cut on my feet again. At some point however, I began to realize that progressively, my feet were getting worse. Not only had the pain become more intense, it was more widespread and deeper in the tissue. Although I've become accustomed to the fact that every facet of my life is affected in a profound way, I finally had to realize I had reached the time of "enough is enough."

Once I hit the wall and examined my feet closely, I knew that the time had come for me to do something. At least I had to seek consultation regarding what caused the increasingly unbearable pain. I had to question why my lifelong love of writing had come to writing a blog about how awful my feet are and lamenting all the things I know that I'm missing.

After seeing a local orthopedic foot specialist (which we didn't have here when I had prior surgeries), I walked away crying. Although he was thoroughly impressed with the prior surgical work he could see on my x-rays, he offered no help for the cause of increased pain. "I'm sorry you're having so much pain, but there's nothing I can do for you." That was the hard truth I came away with. But my husband heard more. He could not believe that a prominent doctor would level so much praise on the work of another surgeon. "I don't know who this surgeon is, but I can tell from your x-rays that the work he's done shows some some of the most intricate surgical techniques I've ever seen." 

I left his office with a feeling of hopelessness. I'd waited three months for an appointment with a doctor who basically turned me away as a patient. "Sorry, there's nothing I can do for you." My husband, on the other hand, was convinced that the doctor had given me the information I needed to move forward. If this doctor was so completely impressed with the surgical techniques he saw on the x-ray, then my husband was convinced that I had to return to Houston to see Dr. Braly. If Dr. Braly said that nothing more could be done, then we would accept it and move on with our lives. But if anything could be done, we both trusted that Dr. Braly was the man to do it.

But would Dr. Braly still be in practice? Very soon I found that indeed he was still practicing with the same group in the Texas Medical Center in Houston. The abundant awards and accolades he had amassed twenty-two years ago had multiplied exponentially. Indeed, he is also still teaching orthopedic surgeons at Baylor University. I immediately made an appointment with him. Knowing that this was not just "an appointment," I planned it at a time when I would be ready for whatever this doctor recommended.

If only I would had the ability, at this point I would have been Walking on Cloud Nine. The appointment was two months away, but I was ready. I was so ready!

You often hear that when one door closes, God opens another door for us to enter. Before I could dry my tears, the new door had opened for me and I was ready to walk through it.