Cabernet and an Allen Wrench

My residual leg is unattractive. It is covered in skin grafts. It's lumpy in weird places and it's full of scars. I keep it covered, even when I'm in the swimming pool. I wear long board shorts. I say, only half joking,that I don't want to scare small children. But I also think people might be a little freaked out by what they do see. I use a walker to get to the pool. I sit in the chair that will lower me into the water, then I remove my prosthesis and put it in the tote bag that hangs from my walker. What they do see is what is visible beyond my board shorts-- a metal rod with what looks like a bolt at the end. I know it's kind of weird, because most people who wear a prosthetic leg don't have that. But no one has asked me about that. Most choose to not speak to me at all. One woman did speak to me, and perhaps she was uncomfotable, because she said a string of the most inappropriate things I had ever heard. So now I ignore her. But what came to mind toda...

A friend told me about a series on Netflix about the four specialized Trauma Units in London, one of which is at King's College Hospital, where I was treated. She wasn't sure if I should watch it, so of course, I did. As I watched there was a little bit of triggering, a tad of envy, and a lot of understanding. The surgeons at these centers are nothing short of amazing. And just like my experience, they all introduced themselves to their patients using their first names. Talk about de-deification! One human,speaking to another, assuring them that they would do everything they could to help that person return to as close to a normal life as possible. Just like me, many of the patients in the series had brain injuries. For me, those patients produced the most PTSD in me. It is hard for me not to wonder what kind of longterm effect my brain bleeds had. My memory is not what it used to be, and at times I struggle to come up with a word. But I'm old, have had more anesthesia ...