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Leaving the house that morning
was the hardest thing I have ever done. I knew I was leaving my daughter in the capable hands of my parents but I hated to leave her. I had always been there for Holly, and now I wouldn’t be, if just for a few days. I was also frightened that something unexpected might happen to me, and I wouldn’t be there to guide her steps into adulthood. Anger set in as my husband backed the car out of the driveway. I had forgiven the young man whose actions all those years ago had led to this moment but right then I wanted to find him.
The surgery was my choice but not really. I couldn’t go on living with a right foot that by the end of the day was unbearably swollen and painful. It had been over 2 years of daily difficulties and making changes in my activities in order to manage my arthritic foot. I don’t blame my previous surgeons, they saved my life, and my mangled foot was not as big a concern as the other injuries. Dr. Esser knew it needed to be redone and told me so a year after the car accident but I was 26 years old and anxious to get on with my life after having already lost a year to the aftermath of the accident. Now the last 18 years of walking on a foot that was fused at an odd angle had taken a toll and it had to be fixed.
The surgery date had been set since last September. I sought out the best possible surgeon – a foot and ankle specialist who had made a career out of studying and fixing the ordinary and the unique problems of the foot. I was eager to have this accomplished and talented doctor perform his medical magic on my battered foot enabling me to get on with the rest of my life. At 44 years old, I still had much to do and needed a foot that would carry me across the miles.
As the date drew nearer I became more anxious with the realization that this was really going to happen. Of course I trusted the surgeon and the preeminent hospital where the surgery was to take place but going under anesthesia is always a risk and there could be complications like blood clots or infection. I had been through so much in 1993 when I had been hit head on by a driver high on marijuana that surely I could get through this as well. The medical staff then had called me “Miracle Michelle” and one doctor had commented that he had never seen anyone who healed so fast and had such a will to live. Now I wasn’t so young anymore, and although I do my best to take care of myself maybe I wouldn’t be as strong.
I had to make a choice to turn away from the fears and take hold of my faith instead. I began to immerse myself in prayer, the Bible, meditation, and all forms of positive thinking. I created a small notebook entitled “Surgery Plan of Action” and filled it with verses that gave me strength of mind, affirmations, and visualizations of the surgery itself. I bathed my surgeons in prayer, and I explained my fears to friends who then showered me with prayer. Early one Sunday, while combing the Bible for strength giving verses, I came across the following “And when Jesus saw her, he called her to him and said unto her, woman, thou art loosed from thine infirmity.” My eyes filled with tears at the joy of this promise and I wrapped it around my heart. The spiritual preparation is all that enabled me to set foot out of the house the morning of the surgery.
Now here I sit, on our couch, right foot ensconced in a walking boot. My surgeon was all smiles after the surgery having been able to do all he had planned. I’ve been home healing for 10 weeks in the care of my loving husband and precious daughter and there have been no complications. At times my heart is flooded with the joy of realizing that it is done, my foot is fixed, and I can get on with the rest of my life. Soon I will be able to discard the crutches, take off the boot, and step out in faith once more.
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