I Closed My Eyes. I Slept.

​Through all of my fears of a psychological backlash against losing a leg, it was easily forgotten that my loss and grief had already happened.

As I came round from surgery, I checked that it had finally gone. An enormous and surprising sense of relief, gratitude, hope and excitement, flooded through my body when I saw the space where my foot used to be. 

Nine months of mental preparation. Nine months of waiting for the postman to casually drop my date through the door. Nine months of prehab training.  Nine months on the surgical waiting list. It was finally done.

I closed my eyes. I slept.