The Open Road . . .

I continue to feel good in the boot, really good. . . I took my first post-surgery trip this week to Toronto for business.  Luckily, the flight is only a short hour from New York, so the swelling remained low.  I opted for wheelchair service, not because I can't walk well enough, but only because the Toronto airport, with its long hallways and distant gates, could probably be considered training grounds for marathon runners. . . in fact, their wheelchair transport staff seem to be in training for a relay event.  I felt like a baton being passed from driver to driver around every new corner and elevator bank.  It took 4 different persons to bring me from my gate to the customs arrival area!

After a long delay at La Guardia and lots of sitting and waiting between relay runners at Toronto, I finally made it past customs and out to the rental car desk. . . yes, I was not only taking my first flight post-surgery, but I was also going to attempt to drive a car for the first time--in a foreign country no less!

After chanting to myself non-stop for the previous 24 hours "don't forget to pack your right sneaker", I dug it out of my suitcase, laced it up, and climbed into the Ford Focus.  "Well, let's see how this feels" was all I could think to myself as I started the engine, gave the car a little gas, and backed out of the parking space.  And, as I entered the highway and reached higher speeds, it turned out I had nothing to fear after all. . . my foot was strong and I felt confident the entire time I was driving, even in stop and go traffic.

God, I miss driving!

Most Definitely Blog-Worthy . . .

The day finally arrived yesterday to have the cast removed--yippee!  And, the day couldn't have arrived soon enough; I had been sitting at home Monday night after work and suddenly smelled something rancid.  After desperately searching the refrigerator and trashcan for what I swore was some seriously rotten food, I finally realized that it was my foot that was wafting something nasty toward my nose?!

Luckily the nurse was still hung over from a massive case of food poisoning, so she managed to locate a handsome resident to remove my cast.  After peeling off the cement and finally freeing my toes from their dark, humid chamber, I was in/out for a quick x-ray and examination from 'the mad scientist'.

All he could do was go on and on about how beautiful it had turned out and how that is how a foot should look!  And, I have to admit that once I got home and had the chance to scrub off all those layers of muck from the last six weeks that I couldn't believe what I was seeing!  It's absolutely gorgeous--the incisions are healing nicely and will probably have minimal scarring and the swelling has remained relatively low throughout this entire process!  (I would post photos from last year's cast removal  for comparison's sake, but I wouldn't want to frighten any of you; let's just say it was not a pretty sight.)  I can already wiggle my toes and rotate my ankle freely--I couldn't do that with the left foot until we had already completed 3 weeks of physical therapy?!  For whatever the reasons, this entire experience has been light years from what it was last year and I couldn't be more pleased . . .

Surgically Speaking . . .

Well, Tuesday, February 15th came and went without a hitch!  I was first up on the OR schedule at 8am, which meant a very early arrival at the hospital, but also a limited window of hunger pains! After checking in with the nurses, redeeming my frequent visitor rewards with the QA consultant, and getting a warm "welcome back" from the anesthesiologist (we've practically become BFFs after the number of times I've visited her operating room over the last year), 'the mad scientist' finally arrived to greet me at 7:58am.  I had joked with the rest of the OR staff that he wouldn't arrive until 7:59am, so you can imagine our surprise when he showed up so early!  Of course, when I saw him approaching my bed still wearing his white coat and carrying a pile of about 10 patient files, I exclaimed, "You're not even in your scrubs yet?!  Are you going to be the one to make us late today?"

Luckily he managed to make up time, shaving about 45 minutes off his normal procedure time.  I woke up in Recovery just in time to nosh on a tuna salad sandwich for lunch and to take a short nap--fortunately, I had just local anesthesiology, so I avoided all the awful nausea and exhaustion of last year's surgery!

By dinner time, they moved me to my room on the Orthopaedics floor.  And, with all the gym time I put in over the Summer and Fall, I was able to successfully lift and transfer my body to my bed all by myself!  The nurses continued to be amazed at my adept "bedpan" skills during the remainder of my stay.  But, despite my need for independence, they continued to check on me every few hours, making sure my pain was under control and my belly was well-filled during my stay.  I couldn't have asked for a more attentive nursing staff; they were amazing!

After a rest-filled night, Dr. Weinfeld surprised me with a quick visit to my room Wednesday morning before he left for the airport.  "Did you really think I wouldn't come and see you today?" he said as he entered the room.  He ordered me to return a week later to have my cast set; and, feeling virtually pain-free and full of energy, I was glad to be released home a few hours later.

New Beginnings

The new year has brought with it a renewed focus on CMT and my overall health.   I was fortunate enough to finally find a neurologist who specializes in neuro-muscular diseases in December and he's been making it his priority to identify all my symptoms of CMT, to properly diagnose me, and to also find ways to hopefully identify and suspend the degeneration rate.

We've done tests, then we did some more tests, and in the coming weeks, we're going to do some more tests!  13 vials of blood, 3 MRIs, an EEG, and a reflex test have finally and positively confirmed that my neuropathy is directly related to CMT and that my overall health is quite good.  My muscles are strong, my degeneration rate seems to be slow, and the surgery has improved my overall flexibility and ease of movement!  I could not have asked for a more positive report just one year after receiving the shattering and alarming news of my diagnosis!

So, this new beginning continues with plans for a genetic test to identify my unique strain of CMT and reconstructive surgery for the right foot!  Frightened that I would get too comfortable with the luxury of self propulsion and postpone the surgery indefinitely, I hurried to schedule it before I even had the chance to second-guess my decision.

So, come February 15, 'the mad scientist' will finally have the chance to begin the final phase of his "Perfect Podiatric Pair" Project and to help me get one step closer to finding that perfect pair of pretty shoes. . .

Can You Tell They're Fake?

Although the footsies have been feeling generally good the last few weeks, a new obstruction along the pursuit of pretty shoes has presented itself recently.  The padding on the balls of my feet seem to have broken down, making it painful to wear any type of hard-soled shoes and leaving me with the dread of walking long distances without my cushy sneakers?!

The 'mad scientist' did say with a bit of concern, "well, I am definitely feeling bone where I shouldn't be", but we couldn't arrive at a decision as to how to resolve the issue.  So, I visited my podiatrist while I was in So-Cal for the holidays and he suggested a few solutions like silicon implants, collagen injections, or padding inserts.  I guess years from now when all the surgeries are done and I can finally show off my pretty shoes, I can make two jokes:


"Well, I had my cankles surgically added." and "Can you tell they're fake?"

Anniversaries, Anniversaries, Anniversaries

I returned to the doctor today to follow up on my stress fracture, even though I had already taken it upon myself to stop wearing the boot a week earlier (I had decided that we were truly forming a co-dependent relationship and the stress of having to make it feel constantly useful had finally drained my energies enough that I had to call it quits for good . . .)

The x-ray showed the bones have healed, but we haven't reached the end of the road yet . . . Dr. W told me it will take another month for the swelling to completely go down.  So, with that in mind, he suggested we re-schedule surgery for mid-November.  Yeah, I looked at him like he was completely crazy--having surgery now would mean that I would be in a cast for both Thanksgiving and Christmas, without the ability to travel at all.  Luckily, I talked him out of doing anything until the new year.

I was about to leave when I realized that it's been a full year since we began this whole process with my first appointment . . . I absolutely adore Dr. W and feel so fortunate to have found him.  And what came next is a perfect example of why:

I said, "Do you realize that we've been together for a whole year now?"

The mad scientist immediately shot back, "Oh, I didn't get you anything."

"It's OK, I didn't get you anything either.  In fact, all I really want to do is divorce you already, but we still have this asset division that we have to figure out."

"Well, if you'll just stay with me for another 6 months, I promise it will be worth it."

We're Getting There . . .

I'm back in bandages today after 'the mad scientist' removed that big screw/pin/bolt/thorn (I've come up with so many names for it over the last few months . . .)  from my heel yesterday.  All went well though, even if I am a bit sore today!  We decided to do local anesthesia instead of general, which was a fantastic idea--and it was all my mine, I might add--leaving me able to wake easily and without any of the usual discomforts of anesthesia recovery, like nausea and major fatigue (and nausea, did I mention nausea?).  The only thing I didn't get my way about was walking out of the hospital; the anesthesiologist left my foot completely numb, so I was forced to hop home on the crutches despite my repeated declarations over the last week!

I was first up in the operating room schedule, so after an early rise, I made it home just a few hours later, giving me the comfort of my own bed for a long nap!  Michele was in the city for her own doctor's appointment, so she and her boyfriend came to visit me in the afternoon and to take care of me for a few hours!  They brought me delicious Crumbs and we dished on fantastic Mexican take-out for lunch; I felt so loved!

Even with only five little stitches, I was given strict instructions not to get my foot wet.  But, that was all a wash this morning when I got in the shower.  Even with a plastic bag tied around my foot, I managed to get the dressing not just wet, but completely soaked!  Luckily, I had some gauze and tape here at home, so I quickly slathered Neosporin all over the incision and re-dressed the wound myself.  Now to rethink my shower routine for tomorrow?!

Have you heard?

CMT Awareness Week will be September 19 -26 this year.  Amazingly, this week long event will actually coincide with the 1st anniversary of my own diagnosis of CMT.  It's hard to believe it has nearly been a full year since this life changing news was weighed on my shoulders (er, my feet I guess.)  So much has happened this year, while so much has stayed the same.  The best event, however, has truly been the upgrade and ultimately the eradication of pain in my left foot.

I will be celebrating by finalizing plans for the second surgery. . . Right now, plans are to go under the knife again on September 28 in the hopes that I will be walking again in time for Christmas . . .

Working It Out . . .

Normally when I make a large decision, I study the pros and cons, I weigh the costs, and I research as much information as I can before deciding which alternative is the most appropriate.  But, two weeks ago, I thought it would be better to just dive right into this one before I could talk myself out of it . . .

I renewed my gym membership and immediately charged $1000 worth of personal trainer sessions on my credit card.  Now, those that know me best would be shocked to hear that I did this for a few reasons:  1.) I am a huge cheapskate and would never think about making such a large purchase without more forethought, 2.) Exercise has got to be in the Top 3 list of things I hate to do in this world, and 3.) I really dislike sweating.

But, since I started feeling better last month, I quickly realized that while my foot felt better, my overall health and stamina was still less than stellar.  Plus, with less than four months until the next surgery, I realized that I need to lose some serious weight and to strengthen my upper body in preparation for crutches again.  So, with such a hefty goal to achieve and a small window to achieve it in, I figured I needed a professional to help mold and shape me (literally).

What was most amusing during the sales pitch was the series of questions I was asked so that I could be matched with "my perfect trainer".  It went a little something like this:

"How long ago did you have surgery?"
"5 months ago."
"How long can you stand?"
"Comfortably?  About 20 minutes."
"Can you run yet?"
"Uh, no."
"Can you do any high impact?"
"No, I can't do any running or jumping yet."
"Can you do stairs?"
"Well, yes, but I am pretty slow; I wouldn't exactly classify that as a calorie burning activity."
"OK, we're gonna work on your upper body!"

So, after two weeks of being paired with Andrew, all he does is yell, "Crutches ain't got nothing on you!" to keep me motivated.  It's quite funny, actually!  He is determined to get me strong enough for the next surgery and to drop the poundage.  So far, he is succeeding; I am already down 7 pounds.  Although, today was a bit of a challenge as my foot was really swollen and stinging (um yeah, I am thinking it may be a stress fracture or another new ailment) . . . he ordered me to call the doctor tomorrow.  Let's hope the doc proves me wrong; I've got a vacation coming on Friday that includes hiking and biking in the mountain air!

So Long . . . For Now

Today was my final post-op appointment with Dr. Weinfeld and the report was sunny all around:  He told me the surgery should be permanent and there will be no need for any "maintenance" work in the coming years; he also evaluated my right foot and decided that even though it is not as severe as the left, he would prefer to do "the works" in the hope that we don't have to bring me in for more work at some point in the future; he told me that the foot looks great, my toes have spread out nicely, and that my healing is moving ahead of schedule!

So, next steps are to schedule a mini-procedure to remove the pin in my heel and to then figure out when we're going to cut into the right foot . . . right now, it seems it could be the end of September.

He then ended our appointment by giving me a big hug!  So cute!  I guess we have been through a lot together in the last few months. . .

Get Moving Already!

Well, I made it to LAX safely for the wedding.  In fact, that weekend trip turned out to probably be the easiest travel experience I've ever had!  Wheelchair service was fantastic. . . I just sat in my mobile chair while everyone wheeled me to where I needed to go and picked up my luggage for me.  The car rental agency even provided me concierge service by pulling the car up to the curb for me. . . it was fantastic!  I managed to get along fairly well with the crutches throughout the weekend; I just watched my foot become the size of a football during the entire process!

But, back here in The City, I visited my doctor this week to have him examine my foot just one more time to make sure that nothing was wrong (despite all my suspicions).  By Thursday, the swelling had nearly disappeared completely for the first time and I woke up thinking to myself, "is this what my new foot will actually look like?  Hmm, it's not so bad . . ."

So, in Dr. Weinfeld's office later that afternoon, he took one look at it and said, "everything is fine.  You need to stop thinking about the pain and start walking. . . take some drugs if you need help getting through it, but you should be walking."  Well, if I couldn't count on Dr. Weinfeld for giving it to me straight, then I don't know who I could count on, really.

So, my physical therapist got me up on my own two feet (well, my own foot and this new, unrecognizable foot; yes, I have two entirely different feet now, but that's another post all on its own) with the help of that sexy medical cane and the boot this week.  I made a few laps up and down the hall without (too much) pain.  The last few days have been a different story, however. . . while the foot has finally stopped blowing up like a blowfish everyday, the pain persists.  I just have to keep telling myself I can do this . . . I can do this . . . I can do this . . . give me the damn Advil, will ya?

One more thing--the doc wants me in tennis shoes by the time I see him again in four weeks . . . he does realize I have to go buy new shoes because I am no longer the same shoe size, right?  I have to buy new shoes . . . yeah, but they won't be pretty ones?! (sniff, sniff . . .)

At The End of My Rope

I can't even begin to put into words the disappointment I felt today. . . I went to the doctor today fully expecting to have my cast removed with the intention of finally ditching the crutches, putting two feet on the ground, and walking [semi-]independently with a boot.

The last week has been more than trying on my patience . . . with all the snow we've been experiencing during this month, I've been spending way too much time trapped in my little apartment forced to watch an exhorbitant amount of bad reality TV, order more than the FDA recommended greasy take-out Chinese, and play nauseating online games. . . After 7 weeks of non-activity, I truly had had it!  Like a pregnant woman entering her last month of gestation, I was willing to do whatever it took to end this whole experience.

We removed the cast, but the doctor informed me today that he would like me to continue using the crutches for two more weeks before putting full weight on the foot . . . he finished it with a "and don't put any weight on that foot without the boot under any circumstances!"

I cried non-stop for twenty minutes as soon as I got home (and without an accurate tally system in place, I think this was my third temper tantrum this week).  I want my mobility and independence more than anything--I want to be able to walk to the grocery store, to go see a movie, or to just be able to join my colleagues for after work drinks--but, I guess it's just not a possibility yet.

The only (and extremely small, in my opinion,) win of the day was being able to finally wash/exfoliate. . . when I called my mom in tears to let out all the frustration, she said, "well, it sounds like you managed to get in the bathtub at least."  All I could do was cry back, "yeah, but I don't know how I'm going to get out?!"

I Feel Pretty, Oh So Pretty . . .

Today marked the 6 week post-op mark and I am feeling divine (well, considering the current circumstances)! My body continues to heal nicely and I am anxiously awaiting this final week before we remove the cast and I can take my first steps . . . everyone (including me) has been so consumed with the progress on my foot/ankle that I've neglected to report on the other half of my surgery--the thyroidectomy.

Well, it's gorgeous people! Gorgeously perfect! The incision is approximately 2 inches and Dr. Genden (I like to call him Michaelangelo) cut it directly along the natural crease of my neck to make it eventually fade into oblivion. It has felt a little tender to the touch over the last few weeks as it heals internally, but overall, the thyroidectomy has been an extremely easy and gentle healing process with little to no discomfort. In fact, I haven't felt better in months with more energy and the absence of that awful "swollen gland" feeling . . .

Details, Schmetails

I've been finding it a bit of a challenge explaining to ordinary folks what it means to live with CMT Syndrome, why I had to have such an extensive surgery on my foot, and what this virtually unknown disease is doing to my body. . . So, I was doing a little online research today and found this article about CMT Syndrome. I've known all along that what my surgeon has been telling me is the right thing to do for maximum longevity, but it was really enlightening to read an article (complete with images) that demonstrates how and why he did it. . .

We all know that I have insanely high arches, but what the surgeon explained to me is that my heel was also beginning to turn inward (just like the photo demonstrates). He turned it back out and anchored it with a bolt.

Also, we knew the peroneal ligament had completely torn and needed to be repaired, but none of the doctors I saw before the surgeon could explain why . . . the article totally explains how the ligament finally wore down and why. . .

In total, this is the list of what we did to my foot (you can click on the links in the article to get more details):

* Release of the tight plantar fascia
* Lengthening of the Achilles Tendon
* Repositioning the 1st metatarsal bone (dorsiflexing 1st metatarsal osteotomy)
* Cutting the heel bone and shifting it out (Lateralizing calcaneal osteotomy)
* Peroneal tendon debridement or repair

Very interesting! I feel so much calmer knowing that I made the right decision to have the surgery! And, soon enough, it will be on to the right foot in the hopes of a better life! ;)

Hi Ho, Hi Ho . . .

it's back to work, I go! After a very quick three weeks recuperating at home, I made it back to work "all by myself!" today (seriously, where's my piece of candy or Atta Boy?!). Luckily, the insurance company approved a "scooter" for me to use to get around in replacement of crutches.

It doesn't have the luxury of power steering, it doesn't stop on a dime, and it doesn't have any measurable horsepower; but, I can get a good downhill speed if the conditions are right! Nonetheless, it's a lot easier on my body and much more steady than crutches any day . . . I can actually reach my office on the 42nd floor without getting out of breath (too much).

I can only sit comfortably in my office for about 6 hours before my foot begins to throb, but it's rewarding to be part of the outside world again!

They Say Time Heals All Wounds

January 12th had to be one of the longest days of my lives . . . literally. Stacey and I arrived at the hospital at NOON, well ahead of my scheduled surgeries at 3pm. I was required to fast from any food or drink before midnight the evening before . . . I swallowed my last spoonful of ice cream at about 10:50pm. And, as soon as we found our way to the surgery check-in and family waiting room, the pleasant aroma of beef and spices was wafting its way toward us--the cafeteria was directly below us. It was pure torture for those of that had had a twisted, tumbling stomach all day. . .

After checking in, Stacey was able to stay with me until about 2:30pm when they took me to the surgery holding room where they got me a warm bed and introduced me to the anesthesiologist and nurses. I remained there until they managed to locate Dr. Genden about 45 minutes later (he had disappeared for a short stint, apparently . . .). After giving me some initial gas to relax me, they wheeled me into the operating room where I professed my unbearable hunger and apparently ordered a cheeseburger and fries from the lead resident before finally releasing myself to the full power of the anesthesia.

I didn't wake again until almost 9pm when I could hear Stacey and the nurses yelling at me in the recovery room. . . they only let Stacey stay with me for about 5 minutes before shooing her to go home. Stacey left just in time . . . the "vomiting cycle" of anesthesia recovery began just minutes after her departure. They finally wheeled me to my room after 10pm . . . I kept crying for food as my stomach was doing somersaults by this point. They finally found me some saltines and jello, which took me only seconds to devour before falling back to sleep.

I tried my best to sleep, but was distracted with nurses waking me hourly to take my stats or to draw blood and a wailing roommate with a broken hip. . . my throat was sore and dry, but luckily they had given me a nerve block to numb my leg completely. The suffering was all worth it though; the surgeries were completely successful and the hospital stay was nearly pain free . . .

Hurry! Buy One Surgery, Get One Free!

Just when I was beginning to accept my diagnosis and was getting preparations underway for my impending surgery, I visited the endocrinologist this week for my semi-annual exam to monitor my thyroid growths we discovered 18 months ago.

My visits with Dr. Brett are few and far between, but she is always pleasant and talkative during the exams. But, Tuesday's appointment was different. While viewing the lumps on the ultrasound, she was very quiet. . . I immediately knew something was wrong . . . well, actually, I already had my suspicions that something was wrong before I even walked in the door that morning.

After the ultrasound, she immediately brought out her sketch pad and began writing down a surgeon's name as she proceeded to tell me that the lumps have not only enlarged again, but have become calcified, which has been causing my general discomfort and increased fatigue the last few months. She said that Dr. Genden is very well renowned and would be able to remove my thyroid with a very quick recovery time and limited discomfort. What? She's recommending we remove my entire thyroid?

Fortunately, Dr. Genden had a cancellation this afternoon, so I got the chance to sit down with him and get his valued opinion. He agrees that the recent changes to the lumps do pose a serious risk for cancer in the future and recommends that we remove the thyroid. He warned me that while the removal is imminent, it was definitely not urgent. But, when I mentioned to him that I already have an orthopedic surgery scheduled for January, he immediately got excited at the idea of doing both surgeries simultaneously. He told me he can work on one end of me while Dr. Weinfeld remains master of his own territory at the other end. . .

So, come next month, we'll be removing my thyroid and repairing my ankle. . . I'd be lying if I didn't say that I am doubly scared now, but I think that anything to avoid cancer is good and the opportunity to have only one hospital stay and one dose of anesthesia is also good . . . perhaps I should ask the hospital if they have some sort of "twofer special" or if I can get a free upgrade to a private room with my large spend next year. And, fingers crossed, maybe I can get Dr. Genden to turn my metabolism "up a notch" with my post-op meds, allowing me to drop a dress size or two . . .

It's Official--The Date is Set

January 12th . . . the day I will get my new foot and ankle. Dr. Weinfeld informed me Monday, while pointing to my x-rays on the wall, that we will NOT have to fuse my ankle (how fortunate for me), but that I will soon be a red flag for the Homeland Security Watch List and a constant nuisance to the TSA once he inserts 4 different bolts and a variety of titanium anchors in my left foot. When I asked if my left foot would now be a completely different size than my right foot, he replied, "well, your foot will definitely be a different shape than the right one, but we can't tell right now if your foot will be an entire size larger . . ."

Great! I love it when the answers are so clear . . . I guess I will just have to put off purchasing any new shoes until Spring.

In the meantime, preparations continue. I decided last week during Open Enrollment to change over my health insurance from United Healthcare to Aetna on January 1; the coverage will be much better and likely leave my out-of-pocket expenses for the surgery at zilch. Luckily, I made the right decision . . . when speaking to the surgical nurse yesterday, she happened to mention to me that Dr. Weinfeld has decided to no longer accept United Healthcare insurance next year! Just a small, minute, completely insignificant detail he failed to tell me!

Deep inside, I am still sorting through all my thoughts and feelings related to the diagnosis, this surgery, and my overall health this year. At lunch with a colleague today, she confided in me that she requested a promotion and was sharply denied one. . . the conversation then shifted to both of us discussing our personal goals and how our careers have evolved over the years. It was the first time I had been able to verbalize how important it is for me to focus on my health this coming year and to just maintain my current position. As the words came out of my mouth, I was sharply surprised at my own present lack of desire to prove myself. . . I am perfectly happy with the status quo and have no expectation to be promoted any time soon. I think that I just have to focus on remembering to take my vitamins and supplements, enjoy the upcoming holidays, work hard to get through physical rehabilitation, and try to look forward to a rewarding vacation next summer.

On another note, according to my rough estimate, I figure that following this surgery, I will have spent approximately 20% of my life on crutches . . . will it ever end?

Can You Spare a Mile or Several Thousand?

Plans for the surgery are coming along--I would say swimmingly, but it's not like this is an event I am excited to be planning. . . I met with HR on Friday to discuss my short term disability options and once again I am amazed at the power of Viacom. Not only do I continue to have job security in this economic crisis, but I will be able to collect 100% of my pay while I am out on medical leave. What other companies can you name in America that still offer 100% of your pay while you're lying on a bed doped up on morphine unable to perform your job duties? (Continue to make every effort to keep Paramount Pictures as an integral part of my exit/return strategy to LA--check!)

I am meeting with my doctors again next week to hopefully set a surgery date and to discuss options for my right foot. My goal is to have a date set before the holidays in the hopes that I can use a confirmed hospital stay and sad puppy dog eyes to tap into that "obligatory holiday season generosity" to get whatever I need for my recovery . . . so, while it's still a little early, here is my first request:

I plan to stay away from the office on bed rest for three weeks. I have three people that have graciously offered to fly to NYC to help me with my recovery. But, here's the catch--I just can't bring myself to ask them to pay for their own tickets to get here (they are already donating their furlough and vacation time after all). I figure I have enough miles to cash in for two tickets, but not enough for a third. So, does anyone have a bank of extra frequent flyer miles they'd be willing to donate to a good cause? If you think you could possibly live without that business class upgrade to Europe next summer, I would really appreciate your sacrifice.

I can offer a heartfelt written thank-you note and a basket full of SpongeBob products as barter!

CA Dreamin'

After a brief business trip south of the border, I headed to CA for a long weekend to visit the fam and to see my nieces and nephews in action.  After a fun-filled weekend, my oldest brother took me to see his orthopaedic surgeon on Monday morning to get a second opinion regarding my ankle. After about 45 minutes of an onslaught of questions and a close examination of my MRI, Dr. Legome said very simply, "you have a lot of problems my dear, and I am sure you already know that." He continued by confirming everything I've been told, including the diagnosis of CMT and telling me that not only should I have the surgery, but that the quality of my life entirely depends on it. He then spent the next 15 minutes lecturing me on losing weight . . . as if I didn't already know that was an issue!

I completely lost it then and there; I finally let all the fear, anxiety, and anger release from inside. . . I think I was still hanging onto a small sliver of hope or a medical miracle when Dr. Legome validated everything that I have been wanting to avoid. And, now that the right foot is hurting also, we asked if I should take the plunge and have both feet operated on at the same time. He thinks it would be far too traumatic for my body, so I have to make plans for how to address that foot sometime in the future. Thank goodness I had my big brother there to put his arm around me; I don't think I could have handled another doctor's appointment by myself.

I managed to board the plane Monday night with dry eyes. . . I joked to myself that I think I am finally moving past denial and straight into anger! I'm progressing . . . definitely progressing! That's good, right?