Returning home from the first surgery in Belgium felt like hitting a wall. While I had been fighting for my health abroad, my home had fallen into disarray. My husband had looked after our son, but order and cleanliness had vanished. Instead of resting, I spent my first days back exhausted, cleaning and trying to restore a sense of normalcy. It was a lonely moment—realizing that no one was coming to offer help—but I was already a veteran of pain. I chose to endure, as I always had.
- The Chait Button and an Old Friend
Six weeks later, it was time to return to Belgium for the final step: replacing the tubes with the permanent Chait button. This trip was different. This time, a childhood friend—one I rarely get to see—came with me.
Having her by my side turned a medical necessity into a beautiful adventure. We even traveled back through the Netherlands, navigating foreign cities with ease. For a few days, I wasn’t just a patient; I was a friend, a traveler, and a woman reclaiming her life.
- Mixed Results and New Guidance
Physically, things weren’t perfect yet. The irrigations through the stoma weren’t working as smoothly as I had hoped, and the pain, though less intense, was still there. During my consultation in Belgium, the doctors gave me new techniques to try, but I knew I had one more hurdle to clear before I could focus entirely on my recovery.
- The Final Surgery: Home Turf
Just five days after returning from Belgium with my new Chait button, I checked into a hospital in my home country to fix my foot. To my surprise, the experience was wonderful. The surgeon was a true professional—dedicated and skilled—and the staff was incredibly kind. They removed the joint in my fifth toe to stop the osteomyelitis, and I spent a week on crutches, forbidden from putting any weight on my foot.
- Rest as a Challenge
Coming home meant another two weeks on crutches. For someone as independent as me, having to ask for help with the household and my son was a “blow below the belt.” However, I used the time to finally rest. Of course, I couldn’t stay completely still—I used my old tricks, like carrying things in small bags while maneuvering my crutches, maintaining my autonomy even in small ways.
- The Christmas Gift
Just days before Christmas, the stitches came out. The doctor gave me the green light to start walking again. I was so determined that the moment I left his office, I handed one crutch to my father and started walking with only one. I had two weeks before I had to be back at work, and I was going to do everything in my power to be in the best shape possible.
”Sometimes, the hardest part of recovery isn’t the surgery itself—it’s the ‘life’ that happens in between. From cleaning a messy house while in pain to finding joy in a trip with an old friend, these are the moments that define our survival. Have you ever felt like you were fighting a battle on your own, only to find strength in an unexpected place? Let’s talk about those ‘mid-recovery’ challenges in the comments.”
Continue reading: Chapter 14: The New Software: Learning to Live in a Rebuilt Body