Wednesday, January 2, 2013

An Amputation

Surgically speaking, an amputation is a very messy procedure. It's a determined decision. We cut everything from the skin all the way down to the bone. The point is we don't stop. In an amputation, there's no going back.

We are not butchers. After all, to take a major decision like this, as surgeons we have to have really good reasons to do so. Taking something that GOD has given away from someone, is by far one of the most difficult things to do.

''Sir, this leg is dead. Even if stays, it won't be of use, it will as well take your life if you don't allow us to interfere. I understand how difficult it is for you to have to make this decision, and I feel your pain, honestly. However, if it were possible this dilemma is to be solved in any other way, I wouldn't have procrastinated sincere efforts to save the leg.'' Maybe that sounded like something that came out of Grey's Anatomy (the series), but it's not. It's reality. Decisions like these are very difficult to make. Yet once the reasons are obvious, benefits outweigh risks, and once the decision is made, we cut.

Not once have we stopped in the ORs and tried to reverse an amputation. The minute we grab hold onto that blade, we are 100% focused and determined to sever everything. Even bone doesn't get in our way when cautery and blades fail. We saw the bone. We get the job done.

The last time I checked, I have had an amputation. I wake up every day ever since that day and I see a stump. I have amputated you. Please, do not come back asking me for a reversal. Dead amputated limbs don't come back. You were a great gift from GOD, and the hardest blessing to lose, just like a limb, but the decision has been made and dead amputated limbs just don't come back.


It feels like I'm traveling to an entirely new and different life. In an airplane filled with strangers, I remain quiet as I listen to subtle melodies on my iphone. Meanwhile, a load full of thoughts drain me from all energy. I find myself watching my life flash right in front of my eyes. Memories from this morning force a smile on my face and drench my eyes with tears. I noticed that I love my life and that I already miss it. I noticed that the airplane seats were occupied with stories. Airplanes are no different from bookshelves, I thought to myself. Though, I was only able to see book covers through the eyes and attires of the many elderly surrounding me, I felt really proud of my own story, a weird form of self-satisfaction I haven't previously experienced. I felt like a masterpiece, GOD's very best creation, not in a sense of superiority, but in a sense of tremendous gratitude. I am swamped with acceptance. The past 6 months were far from easy, and I feel like I can finally see the light. It feels like sunrise, fresh, true, comforting, warm, and very personal. Seems like everyone here is going back home, to where safety is, to where one feels self centered. At first, I thought I was heading home too, or at least I wanted to believe so, however, I found out that home is where I had just took off. It was in the arms of a loving mother no matter how ill, it was in the inches of land I set foot on every morning no matter how dry, it was in the time I spent living a life, making something out of myself no matter how exhausting, it was in the arms of an amazing soulmate, and in the memories amidst foolish childish behavior with friends no matter the fights. I am flying many miles above the ground, floating, though neither distance nor time mean anything now.