Laptops are amazing.
So far, so good.
Yes, I finally bit the bullet and had the surgery Thursday night. My doctors continue to assure me that the operation was absolutely successful, although it still remains to be seen if I'll be able to walk fully independent of the crutch.
Abby, I would like to thank you again for listening to me ramble the other night. And especially for agreeing to be Henry's guardian. That really meant a lot to me, and eased my worries and fear about the surgery a lot.
[private]
I'm still uncertain as to whether or not I did the right thing. I did what was medically correct. I'm not so sure I did what was right for me, as a person.
I've always been comfortable with who I am. Physically. I've never wished or wanted to be a "whole" human being, whatever the hell that means. I can't miss what I've never had; I've always had the limp, I've always had the crutch. Big fucking deal.
Except it turns out that it is a big deal. I didn't give a second thought to ridding myself of my crutch--of something that's been a constant companion in various forms for more than forty-six years--until my condition began to decline recently. I never realized, or cared to realize, how wrapped up in my disability my identity was. Is.
"I'd be dying to get rid of that crutch if I were you, Kerry." Well, Dr. Klein, you're not. And I wasn't.
[/private]
Yes, I finally bit the bullet and had the surgery Thursday night. My doctors continue to assure me that the operation was absolutely successful, although it still remains to be seen if I'll be able to walk fully independent of the crutch.
Abby, I would like to thank you again for listening to me ramble the other night. And especially for agreeing to be Henry's guardian. That really meant a lot to me, and eased my worries and fear about the surgery a lot.
[private]
I'm still uncertain as to whether or not I did the right thing. I did what was medically correct. I'm not so sure I did what was right for me, as a person.
I've always been comfortable with who I am. Physically. I've never wished or wanted to be a "whole" human being, whatever the hell that means. I can't miss what I've never had; I've always had the limp, I've always had the crutch. Big fucking deal.
Except it turns out that it is a big deal. I didn't give a second thought to ridding myself of my crutch--of something that's been a constant companion in various forms for more than forty-six years--until my condition began to decline recently. I never realized, or cared to realize, how wrapped up in my disability my identity was. Is.
"I'd be dying to get rid of that crutch if I were you, Kerry." Well, Dr. Klein, you're not. And I wasn't.
[/private]