A Day of Dougie:
My Life At the Moment
Updates for Everyone

Roughly six days ago, against the advice of three different doctors, I came home from the hospital. My head was a mess and I needed to be home in a familiar environment, with my bed, and my cats, to think clearly and decide what happens next. That may have been a mistake since this past week has been anything, but stress-free or relaxing. But my head is starting to finally clear up and the clouds are vanishing. And this is my update, for those who care, and hell, based on the number of actual messages and inquiries, those who don’t. It helps me to put everything in order if I talk about it and since I don’t have anyone open-minded and sane to speak to, I’ll just write it out here at the site. That sounds like a plan, right? Let’s do this.

Let’s start with the basics of what is going on. I only have one leg as I’m sure most of you know. My right leg was amputated three years ago and I wear a prosthetic. It’s no big deal. On my left foot, I’ve been dealing with an infection for quite a while. Due to that infection, I had the small toe amputated several months ago. It’s been a pain, but manageable.

A few weeks ago, my foot began to hurt more and the infection had started to drain far more than usual. I decided to take the plunge and go to the hospital on August 28, 2024. And it was not good news. My foot was badly infected and the infection was spreading quickly. Though I didn’t like the prospect, I spoke with the doctors and the general consensus was that I would lose a large amount of my foot, but it could still be partially saved. I had surgery and my large toe, plus a large amount of the meat and flesh was cut away. My foot now has three toes left and looks as if a pack of dogs have been fighting over a huge ham bone at Thanksgiving. It looks bad. Very bad. But I still have enough foot there to put some pressure and weight on it, walk, and drive. After repeated tests and an EKG, it looks as if all the infection is gone as well.

The surgery was Thursday morning, and by Saturday night, I was miserable, restless, and extremely tense in that hospital bed and snapping at people with almost every word. The wound was clean and the doctor said that most likely, I’d be released to come home Tuesday, with a follow-up of wound care, and home health care, and it’d be a day-by-day recovery process. Not ideal, but I can handle that. I can make the necessary adjustments to my life and endure. I’m, nothing but stubborn and a survivor.

Come Tuesday morning, my nerves are stretched, I’m bouncing between anticipation of coming home and the darkness that normally occupies my mind, and I’m on edge. The first doctor comes in and says that the foot looks good, but he wants to do surgery come Thursday. He suggests a total below-knee amputation of my foot. I quickly say no to that and my head is ready to explode. A few minutes later, a different doctor comes into the room, one that I’m not fond of already and he tells me not to eat breakfast because he wants to do surgery to check the blood vessels in my leg later that day. I thought I was going home, but then I had two different doctors showing up, one saying he wanted to take off my foot and the other, wanting to play Dora the Explorer on my foot and leg. I just wanted to go home for a few days.

My mind is made up and I’m on the verge of a major heart attack. I’m leaving and going home. The third doctor comes by later and I tell him that, very bluntly and to the point. If I’m not released, I’m leaving anyhow. And he released me. And I’ve been here at the house ever since. Unfortunately, since I left the hospital without their approval, all of my follow-up medical visits and treatments have been canceled. They did phone in a prescription for me for a very strong antibiotic, but that’s it. I’m here now, at the house, with a foot that looks like a chewed-up pork chop, fending for myself. I’m totally alone with no help or assistance, but when the inevitable happens, and I have to go back and get this foot removed, it will be on my terms. I’ve got medical supplies and I’ve been changing the dressing twice a day, keeping it clean, and it seems to be looking well. No fever or signs of infection. I use the chair to get around so I can stay off the foot as much as possible, but I can still bathe myself, sleep in my bed, and walk short distances if necessary.

And this is where I am now, at least physically. I know that eventually, I’ll have to make the move and get the foot amputated. And then, what will be left of me or my life? It’s just a leg. A foot. I get that, but I don’t have much left. In the past few years, I’ve lost a brother, a sister, a job I truly cared about, most of my freedom, and a majority of the people I call friends. I have a ton of great acquaintances and great people to wave at, but that I can call on and truly rely on, not so much. People have their own lives and issues to deal with and it’s not fair or right of me to burden anyone else with mine. My life is my responsibility and no one else. I”‘m just going through the motions here, keeping the foot clean, and it’s status quo.

I’m not alone. My Mom tries to be helpful, but Mom has issues of her own and her help is as much a burden as help. The best of intentions though. My bro-son has been supportive, but he has so many issues of his own, that he has to worry about himself and the family first. That’s how it should and needs to be. Hell, I think that he feels that the only reason I checked myself out of the hospital and came home was because I was thinking of taking myself out. And yes, that idea has floated around in my mind more than once. I love my cats and have too much stubbornness to go that method though. Yes, I mentioned my cat there. I’ve been here before, depressed and ready to give up, my gun literally in front of me, and Mouthie has walked in, sat on the gun, and rubbed/purred at me, showing love until the bad thoughts had vanished. My baby knows when I’m sick or depressed and makes it a point to shower me with love and attention until my stress levels vanish. Damn cat! It’s crazy how they do that.

But enough of all of this. I’m here at the house. I’m taking care of my foot as best I can. And I’m trying to decide what’s next. I have no answers. I’m using self-reflection, research, and a lot of prayer. God and myself are speaking quite regularly. I write at the site as a distraction and it brings me a temporary escape. And now, you know.

There are so many other topics that I could go into and who knows? Perhaps I will at some point. Right now, I’m just dealing. I’m alone, but I’m stubborn and I refuse to give up. It’s just taking it day by day. And now, I need to go pee. Thanks for reading. Writing this out helps me. I’ll talk to you later.

Ubuntu!