The Seventh Week Saturday Miracle

It's now been seven weeks since I underwent back surgery to fuse L-5 / S-1. And something remarkable is happening.

It started a few weeks ago when friends commented that I look more stable, making me realize I'd stopped reaching for my cane or walker as much. But since I was still on extra meds post the procedure, I waited to draw any conclusions.

While cleaning out my closet last Saturday, however, I pulled down the basket of shoes I keep high on a shelf. It's fairly empty since I gave away most of my previous shoes over the seven years I've not walked normally. But I never parted with the dressy black heels.

They adorned my feet the night my left ankle first seemed weak in early Dec. '05. Within months my legs moved forward in stiff awkward motions. By February of '06, I walked through a drug store, holding a buggy for balance and thought, This is why people use walkers.

The feeling came and went for over five years before docs diagnosed mitochondrial disease and cerebral folate deficiency. But a few months before the diagnosis, I fell, requiring ankle and back surgery. I woke from the back surgery with concern for my right leg. And in time, it only grew worse.

I've probably had an MRI of my lower back almost every year since this began. But even when a neuro surgeon discussed the fusion option last summer, conflicting opinions kept me hesitant about moving forward with another surgery. In time, my left ankle gave out and I couldn't avoid a reconstruction. As I recovered from that procedure, the right leg grew weaker still. By the time I headed to the hospital for the fusion in mid-June, it was clear something had to be done or I might end up in a wheelchair.

I recovered much better from this back surgery than the one before. But I never expected to pull out the black heels and walk in my living room like most women... only seven weeks later.

Nina Golby Sandals

I called Don right away and he suggested, "Why don't you take them off after five minutes."

I promised I would and then called my mom while still strutting around the house. After celebrating with her, I called my sister who asked, "How long have you been in them now?"

"Oh, about ten minutes..."

"Take them off, Susan. Right now, "she said in a commanding voice older siblings use, "Promise me you'll take them off."

My family knows my medical  history too well so I obliged.

It's hard to describe the feeling. Hard to explain the thoughts that go through my mind as day after day goes by and my legs keep working and my ankles and feet move forward in smooth motion, absent any sign of foot slap.

I wonder about white water or a stroll on the beach or just a vacation without constant thought as to how long my legs will last. Maybe I'll fly across the country again or take that vacation I've wanted to take with my boys but couldn't figure out how to manage.

I don't know. And even though something seems remarkably different, I'm still cautiously optimistic. I've had swings forward only to have another joint betray the progress.

But I wanted to share my Saturday miracle because so many of you have walked this journey with me and prayed and believed when my faith was small. I don't why one of those MRI's never made the problem clear. But I sure am thankful for the way I feel right now. And that is enough.

"For everything there is a season..." (Ecc. 3:1)