Hi,

I have memories going back to at least the age of 3 1/2 or 4 if not earlier.
I remember my first surgery at 4 1/2 very well. I had one of the same nurses
at the same hospital when I was 8. We both recognized each other and stuff.
My parents didn't talk to me about my second surgery. I found out the day
before when I was having surgery. My mother's way of dealing with it was: "If
you going to cry about it, we're not going to discuss it. End of subject."
All I knew was that I would have casts below my knees, and that my feet would
be straight afterwards and that I would no longer make holes in my shoes. I
also knew that I would be in the casts for six weeks.  It was six weeks of
pain and he**!! I also relied on my memory of what would happen in the
hospital and it was all the same... unfortunately. A week of He** that I
could have lived without!

Since my doctor "screwed up", I wouldn't let him touch me again with a knife.
I still ruined my shoes and got the blame for it. I got the blame for my foot
turning out. I got the blame for not picking up my feet after this surgery
that "was supposed to make me walk more normal and straight."

Enuf said,

Dina