Wow, what a winter
When I last wrote I was a healthy 47-year-old father of two young kids and married to a beautiful, intelligent, sweet woman. All of that is still the same – except for the healthy part.
This saga goes back to Easter Sunday, March 27, 2016. I was watching my kids play on the beach down in Capitola near Santa Cruz. At Capitola Beach there’s a spot in the middle where the river meets the Pacific Ocean. Kids love to run back and forth over the sand and into the water happily splashing their afternoons away.
I wasn’t so happy after spending just one minute in that river water. Because I have a compromised vascular (blood flow) condition in my left leg from birth, I am more susceptible to infections than most people. From that fateful dip, I developed a staph infection 24 hours later that landed me in the hospital for five days. Over the next six months I had another four trips to the ER for small to medium sized infections and one more hospitalization. Now things were about to change.
The morning after Halloween I woke up in a stupor. My wife called 911 and Bell Ambulance showed up minutes later. They strapped me on a gurney, put me in their ambulance and headed quickly to the ER. An hour later I was having emergency surgery.
Unfortunately my left leg had become septic (infected with bacteria). I was kept in a type of medically induced unconsciousness to help with the pain. My wife choked up the other night and told me it was touch and go for a while. She wasn’t sure if I was going to make it. That’s how bad the infection was. After a second surgery my family stayed in various rooms of the hospital waiting for news. (Eating In-n-Out Burgers without me in the maternity ward I should add).
I awoke three days and one of my two surgeons told me in a very kind way that I had two options: 1) lose my left leg from the thigh down or 2) lose my life. I chose option one. I was going to ask about an option three but I didn’t have a leg to stand on (courtesy laugh please).
I remember waking up in the ICU on Nov. 8 and seeing a news bulletin on CNN that Donald Trump was our new president. I thought, “Wow, they have me on some really strong drugs.” The amputation surgery was very successful and I spent a little over two weeks in the hospital and another two weeks in a ‘SNIF’ or Skilled Nursing Facility. I re-learned how to stand up. I re-learned how to walk with a walker and crutches. And I learned how to go to the bathroom again. I’ll spare you the details.
I could write 10,000 words on this experience but I’m limited to 500 today. From a golf perspective I suppose I was buried in a very deep sand trap and I’m slowly working my way out. The good news is the last golf shot I hit with my old leg was a 4-iron to about 20 feet on our 16th hole at Golden Gate Park. My son Jackson rolled in the birdie putt to clinch our match in the Nor Cal Family Championship. We had to forfeit the semi-final match due to my illness. Sorry little buddy – we’ll get them next year.
Now I’m in the middle stages of ‘stump shrinking’ to reduce the size of my left leg to make it as cone shaped as possible. Then they’ll make a plaster cast of my stump and eventually my prosthetics expert will design an artificial leg from the thigh down. I may not be able to catch my beautiful 8-year-old daughter Katie in a footrace with my new leg, but God willing I’ll be able to walk her down the aisle some day.
 
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