i’ve been told when one loses a limb they go through stages of grief. i expected it, but i never imagined it happening the way it did. and i’m certainly not done with the process. june 12th is my 1 year ampuversary.

after my amputation i felt frustrated. i was navigating the rehab hospital and trying to do every day tasks without falling and hurting myself. i fell once in the hospital. i had dropped something and went to pick it up and fell right on my residual limb. when i got home it was a whole new ballgame. i had the bright idea of using my knee scooter that i had from my ankle surgeries. what i didn’t anticipate was not being able to balance because half of my leg was gone. i fell twice. and gave away the knee scooter. knock on wood i haven’t fallen since. but there was the feeling of frustration and loss. loss of the everyday freedom i had lost. sure i had lost some of that freedom with prior leg surgeries but this was different. my leg wasn’t in a cast or boot. it was *gone*. i thought i was dealing with things pretty well. but in actuality i was pushing my feelings down and they would rear their ugly head later. later bring now. i haven’t experienced the anger part of loss yet. and maybe i wont.

it all comes down to one thing though. attachment to the body. someone once looked at my missing leg and said “you poor soul”. and i thought to myself. no, i’m fortunate. yea i lost my leg. yea i’m having to navigate the world in a whole new way. but losing a limb is nothing to be pitied. amputees are strong. we are fierce. we can overcome. i can overcome.