Thank you for being on my list. I am so blessed to have you here. As we get to know like and trust each other, I hope you will become a very robust part of our community as we strive to Alleviate Poverty: Yours, Mine, Theirs…
The day was January 5th, 1943. My parents and I are at Saint Johns Hospital in San Angelo, Texas. It is early and my Dad is having his tonsils taken out.
It is now 10 A M and I am making my entrances into the world. The doctor takes one look at me and decides to operate. My left hand is a paw with all the fingers grown together and the doctor decides I can not go home that way.
I am also missing my big toe and the first toe that follows on my right foot and the ring finger on my right hand is mangled. The umbilical cord did a number on my hands and right foot.
My Mother told me that in the first year I had three operations on my left hand. The first operation I remember was in 1961 and the recovery from that operation was the most painful of any operation I have ever had. So needless to say I was a very noisy kid. My nickname was blubber.
I have no problem walking, though I do have neuropathy, which after multiple vein surgeries is quite manageable and the left hand is very usable. When I type, I only have four fingers that are useful, as there are many joints missing.
In 1981, I had the last surgery on my hand by a very good bone specialist and he did more for the hand than all the previous operations put together and the recovery was not at all painful.
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Please be on the lookout for more stories from my past as we get to know, like and trust each other…