It begins

The photograph is of Ella Fitzgerald seated in a wheelchair; where her legs were are stubs. She is smiling as if ready to break out with her trademark scat. I show that to the doctor on whom I depend for my primary care. He tells me that's what happens with diabetes. "The surgeons get you a snip at time." Seven years ago, a vascular surgeon whom I have come to trust – he is a Bohunk from Minneapolis -- snipped two toes from each of my feet, and "revascularized" each of my legs. Late in February, Kay noticed a familiarly ominous redness on one of my toes. The fact that we had paid little attention to a similar symptom the first time we saw it almost led to an amputation seven years ago. So off to the doctor we went. Without hesitating, he said go directly to the emergency room. A Doppler check and an MRA later, and I am listening to the surgeon spell out the options. What began as an ingrown toenail had made my entire right foot septic. None of the options that the surgeon put on the table were attractive. Indeed, the only sensible choice was to proceed with an amputation. This was done on March 2. I spent four days at Santa Barbara Cottage Hospital, after which I went to the Rehabilitation Institute of Santa Barbara.