A graphic good riddance

I am so unsure of what I am feeling right now, I can't even imagine how Greg is feeling.  Part of me is excited.  This could actually be the end.  The end of surgeries, pain, and problems.  The end of Greg's current quality of life.

On the other hand, I'm sad to see this leg go.  It sounds silly because it's not even my leg, but I love it and it's a part of Greg.  Plus, there is so much healthy leg going with it.  It's hard.

I am anxious.  This isn't our first amputation and I am not approaching it with the same naive, bewildered confusion.  I know what's coming.  And it's not easy.  Not easy for me and certainly not easy for him.  I hate to see him struggle.


I told you it would be graphic.

Surgery in the morning.  At 6 am no less.  Heaven help me.  I have enough trouble staying awake in a hospital waiting room, now I'm going to try to do it at 6 am?  Yeah right.

 From the top.

 14 months in a cast did a number on this leg.  It's really atrophied and has never really recovered.

The bottom

This is the first ulcer he's had that has cracked like this.

I'll be updating.

Over and out.