Blood Cancer Broke My Leg (Part 2)

I showed up at the hospital in a wheelchair, excited for the chance to be able to walk again. I was also nervous that this surgery would go as that last one did. What if the tumor in my femur was still there? What if it bled as much as it did the first time around? I was not emotionally prepared for the possibility of another failed surgery.

This time, the doctors were prepared

Fortunately, the doctors had prepared for this scenario. The surgeon ordered an angiogram prior to the surgery. While I was under light sedation, radiologists inserted a tiny tube into my femoral artery. They then injected dye through the tube and watched on a screen to see if they needed to block off any of the blood vessels to the tumor before to prevent heavy blood loss.

Fortunately, there were no longer blood vessels feeding the tumor, and we were ready to go. After I signed a paper stating that I understood the surgical risks, they wheeled me to the operating room. I lied on my right side, took a few breaths, and the last thing I remember was the huge sense of relief that I would be waking and walking again soon.

They tapped a rod down the length of my femur

While I slept for the two-hour procedure, the surgeon tapped a 380 mm (about 1¼ foot) titanium rod down the length of my femur. He then inserted pins into the top and bottom of the femur to secure the rod in place. It is a pretty gruesome operation, and I was glad I waited to watch the YouTube video of the procedure until afterward.

I woke up after surgery without pain until I tried to move my leg. Ouch! Getting out of bed was impossible, even to use the restroom. With the help of nurses, a walker, and quite a few painkillers, I was able to hobble to the bathroom the next morning. And the day after that, a little over-excited to begin my recovery, I checked out and went home.

Looking back, I should have stayed in the hospital longer. I cried and moaned the entire ride home. Every bump, every turn, every step on the brakes was agonizing. Between the pain and the resulting awkwardness with my driver, those were some of the longest 6 hours of my life.

Recovery was quick, and I walked into my transplant

But I safely made it home and slowly began moving more each day. In a few days, I graduated from a wheelchair to a walker. A week after that I was using crutches. In 2 weeks I was sporting a fancy peacock cane that I ordered online. In a little over a month, I took my first scary steps on my own. I also drove my car for the first time since my fall half a year before.

In 3 months, several days before my transplant, I ran a quarter-mile. It was no half-marathon, like the one I had been planning on running that day, but it was something my surgeon told me I would likely never do again. I was thrilled.

Because of the surgery, I went into my transplant in the best shape I could have been in for the situation. It was a difficult transplant, but being able to walk freely made it so much easier. I never worried about falling, and I was able to get up and pace the floors of the hospital (even though most days I didn’t want to!).

Fully recovered and grateful

I have a few cool-looking scars but no pain from the surgery anymore.  No one one besides airport scanners and X-ray technicians would know I had the surgery. Not even me. Two years later, I can’t feel the rod or the pins, and I can walk as well as I ever did. I’m hopeful that someday I’ll even have the energy to run again.

Two years ago today I was unable to walk, to drive, and to live independently. Today I will walk my dog, drive to an appointment, and make my own dinner. As difficult as it was to have cancer break my leg, there isn’t a day that goes by that I’m not grateful for my medical team and the surgery that got me back on my feet again.

Read Part 1 of Ramae's series on Blood Cancer Broke My Leg.