Getting legless – Part 3

Home with the new pin.

First moments up on the new leg,
about to try it out on the "chicken run"
at the Limb Centre

It's five months after getting my prosthetic leg fitted as I write this. So I'm going to have to think back about some of the details ...

The 2nd photo here is me up on the new leg for the first time, at the Wellington Limb Centre. A defining moment! I'd been promised by my doc (and a few other docs, and the limb centre guys) that once I got up on the new pin, I'd be moving about with much more ease than I was with the old wonky foot. (Not to mention 'no more infections').

It was a tight fit. The swelling hadn't come down much at all (there'd be a few months of the swelling coming down, and some adding of padding inside the socket cup) and it was an unusual new feeling ... like a ski boot all the way up past my calf (or where my calf would be). Very tight and restricting.

Then there was the "trust" thing. I looked at the slim metal bit and the fibreglass cup my stump fit into, and the foot at the end of it all. Was this going to hold me up and not break? I'm not a light guy ...

I clung onto the rails along the "chicken run" at the Limb Centre during my first few trips up and back. Then I tried it without holding on. It seemed to be holding ... but I wasn't up on the thing for long.

What would happen when I was out charging around the city, going to work, hanging out in bars? What if ceaseless use with my bulk on top of it caused it to collapse?

It seems, following a few months of use (and no longer needing crutches!) that the engineers of such things know what they're doing. The assembly can support a fair bit of weight, plus lots of walking ... even up hills. And even with me with a backpack full of groceries on (the combined weight of me and a big pack full of food tipping past 300 pounds).

I was visited at home a few times by my lovely physios, who were impressed with my progress and how relatively nimble I was on the thing (so soon). I went back to work the last week before Xmas, and a physio came to my office to check me out. Up to that point I was still using two crutches. She gave me a few tasks to try, and then she said: "Try it with just one crutch".

Another defining moment! It was just as easy for me. From that point on I only took one crutch with me ... and around about the end of February, I realised I was just carrying the crutch around for the most part, and not using it at all. I kept carrying it for a while longer, as I have a challenging hike down a long and steep mountain pathway to get to my bus stop, on the way to work ... but by April I left the crutch at home and was confident in my abilities to no longer need it.

An amusing moment though: another visit at home by the tiniest of physiotherapists saw her asking me to try walking backwards at one point. She positioned herself behind me as though to catch me if I fell ... and I turned to her and laughed, and said "I don't like your chances if I tip over!" She was maybe 5'1", and thin as a blade of grass. And I am of course 5' 19", and weigh about three of her. She too laughed.

The next defining moment came during a checkup with my surgeon in February – he inspected the stump (it was fine), then he watched me walk on the prosthetic. Five minutes later he handed me a form and said: "After 9 years, I'm discharging you. You don't need my services any more".

I walked out of the clinic that day feeling like a million bucks. I was beaming! A week later I met with the Infectious Diseases doc and he too discharged me. Another candle on the cake! At this point today, I'm down to a quick weekly inspection by my podiatrist Hilary (keeping an eye on my other foot), and the odd blood test to monitor my clotting (re: DVTs in my leg). I'm mostly "doctor and scrip free" now.

The next defining moment came after I'd been walking a bit further each day, on  my way to work – going a few bus stops further down the road each time. I reached the small village in Aro Valley one day, and that had me beaming again. It was only maybe 1 to 2 KM further, but ... it was a personal best!

I had a goal in mind to walk the whole way into work at some point. So one Saturday three weeks ago I was meeting Gill and a bunch of other merry beer drinkers to go on a 'tour' of the fabulous Tuatara Brewery (which turned out to be more of a "customer appreciation day/pissup", but that's another story).

I had to get into the city to catch a bus out to the brewery ... my timing was off and I just missed the city bus downtown, so, I walked – all the way into the city ... well past the point where my office is. My pedometer measured the distance at 6 + KM. Colour me "beaming" one more time!

After realising the walk to work was doable, I've been doing it on average every other day since then.

I was about to extend the range a bit more just the other day, coming home from work – instead of taking the usual alternative bus that drops me on a street above my house (so it's downhill from there too), I decided to try climbing up the cliff from the morning bus stop. A daunting challenge ...

As I got off the bus, my downstairs neighbour Andy appeared from the back of the bus and said: "Hey Steve, I didn't even realise you were on the bus. Want a ride home?" His girlfriend Sarah was there with the car ... and in a moment of weakness, I took that ride.

The climb can wait for another day.

Ready to rock!

Getting legless – Part 2

So much for the preamble ... now for the 'bare bones' of the procedure.

But before I go any further – huge compliments (or "big ups", as the kids say) to all the medical professionals who have looked after me over 10 years here in Wellington, both in and out of hospital. The healthcare system here is fantastic, and every single doctor, nurse, and podiatrist who've treated me (and cut bits off me) have been just stellar.

Now back to the fun. The thing that surprised me most is how fast the scenario went, from "leg off" to "going home".

I was back home on the 7th day after the op. In previous hospital adventures just to quell the infection tide, I was in for much longer – five weeks was the longest session. During that time I marveled at the succession of 'flatmates' who were in and out with amputations and hip replacements, in 1/5th of the time I was in there.

Pre-op, they rigged me up with a nerve blocker – a direct nerve IV on the big nerve running down the back of my leg (above my knee). The anaestesiologist  used an ultrasound scanner to find the nerve, and had it hooked up in minutes. This was meant to remain hooked up post-op too.

They hit me with two other IVs for pain as well, but those were removed two days after the op. The nerve blocker was unhooked on day five. I was only given pill pain relief after that, and that worked a treat.

No pain whatsoever the whole time I was in ward. I couldn't believe it! This was my first stay in the 'new' Wellington Hospital, and it was great. Fantastic nurses, excellent treatment, great followup by Nigel Willis, my surgeon. Gill brought me in a stuffed toy, a Kea parrot, who I dubbed Carlos. I taped him to the railing at the end of my bed, so he was sitting up just like an actual parrot might ... and everyone who entered the room thought it was a real bird (doctors, nurses, patients, visiting friends).

Carlos on my hospital bed.

Once home, it was a good two months of crutching around the two-level house. I lost a bit of weight and built up some muscle and power in my shoulders and arms doing this ... but my mobility was clearly pretty limited. There were a few checkups at the hospital, and negotiating Gill's steps was a mission – both down AND back up. But as the saying goes, it builds character ...

I did well for not falling until Hallowe'en night, when we went to see Leonard Cohen's excellent concert in Wellington (I won the tickets! Seats were great too!) I managed the whole evening (down the steps, through a car-park, into the concert hall, back to the car) without incident.

It was going back up the steps at the end of the night, in darkness, when I had my first big fall. I missed a step as I "hopped" up, and down I went. It knocked the wind out of me, and scared the shit out of me too ... I reflexively stuck my missing leg out to stop my fall, and the stump hit first ... followed by an elbow, then my back and head. I was convinced I'd need to go back to the hospital for more surgery to repair the damage to my stump.

Thankfully, it was only a minor bit of bruising on the surgical area, and all was well. My head, elbow and back were also none the worse for wear.

The ensuing two months of being house-bound allowed me to practice up my MacGyver skills. I called breakfast time "going camping", as I loaded up a thermos of coffee, fruit and toasted sandwiches into a backpack to get back up the steps to the living room. The backpack kept the load centred on my back, and my arms free for crutching.

Showering was (and still is) accomplished sitting on a small bench, provided by my physiotherapists. It was an interesting bit of ballet getting into and out of the shower with that bench. (Since getting my prosthetic leg, I still have to use the bench – the leg needs to come off for showers, and for sleeping).

Now on to the most exciting part of the whole procedure – getting my prosthetic leg fitted, and working through the initial "wow, this is different!" experience. See "Getting legless – Part 3".

Kaka parrots on my balcony

A happy Kaka munching an almond on my balcony.

Well looky here! After moving to Aro Valley in Wellington, I wondered what the large brown birds were flying around in the distance. At first I thought perhaps they were hawks – I could see the separate feathers at the wingtips. Then some days later, I saw one closer as it landed in a tree near me on my walk home from work – parrots! I learned soon after they were the native New Zealand Kaka.

Up close, you can see there is some interesting colour to their plumage. 

This was pretty exciting (for me anyway!) I wondered how I might be lucky enough to get one to come close enough in the trees to get a half-decent photo with my telephoto lens. They continued flying around in the distance whenever I was out to look.

Fast-forward a few weeks. I'm out on the patio around sunset, when suddenly not one, but four Kakas flapped up and landed on the balcony railing! I rushed in to get some apple slices, and my camera. Over the next few weeks I've fed them sliced apples and unsalted almonds. They love them both.

I've taken many photos like the one here. They show up at sunrise and sunset (breakfast and dinner hours), and sometimes even mid-day. Clearly I'm on their "frequent flyer" stopover route now, as they're out there a lot. Often when I come home from work there are some waiting for me on the balcony! And one morning last week on my way to work (and a fair distance from the house), three Kaka flew down from a tree and perched on a fence next to me. 

They had to be "regulars" at Casa de Steve's Parrot Café, and recognised me. I actually stood there and showed them my empty hands, and explained that I didn't have any food ... and told them to be sure to show up at the house around 5.30 and there would be some chow. I got home from work, and some were there waiting! (No telling if the same three were amongst this mob).

Now it's a standard thing on weekends, in the morning just after sunrise, to take a cup of tea out to the balcony with almonds and apple slices – and I have breakfast with these magnificent birds. 

I've attached a video here of some Kakas who showed up for dinner. This is part of a longer movie which can be downloaded here: http://dl.dropbox.com/u/16019458/Mobbed%20By%20Parrots%20E.mov