Healing… Or at Least That’s What We’re Calling It

Today’s medical update comes with two exhibits: the eye and the arm.

Let’s start with the eye.

The silicone oil was removed a few days ago, and somehow my eye looks more bruised now than it did on Day 1. Apparently, healing sometimes likes to make things look worse before making them look better.

And the view through that eye?

Previously, I described it as looking through a glass of cloudy liquid.

I’ve decided that description needs an upgrade.

It’s like looking through salad dressing.

Not ranch. Not Thousand Island. I’m thinking vinaigrette—something slightly cloudy where the oil and liquid are separating, and gravity keeps moving everything around.

Basically, my eyeball has become a condiment bottle.

Meanwhile, we also have The Arm.

That’s the rug burn from Friday’s unfortunate disagreement between my prosthetic leg, gravity, and a large Dutch Bros passion fruit soda.

It looks horrible.

It feels… surprisingly fine.

It hardly hurts at all.

Maybe I’m just tough.

Or maybe it’s those steroid eye drops.

I keep putting steroids in my eye four times a day, so surely at some point they travel down to my arm and turn me into the Hulk. That’s how medicine works, right?

So today’s scorecard:

👁️ Eye: Looks worse. Vision by vinaigrette.

💪 Arm: Looks terrible. Barely hurts.

🟢 Hulk transformation: Still pending.

I’ll keep documenting this highly scientific healing process as both my eye and arm figure out what they’re doing.

At this rate, I’m just happy nothing else has started leaking, bleeding, bruising, or falling off.

Recovery continues.

Gravity Wins Again: When My Prosthetic Decided We Were Falling

Yesterday, before my recovery meeting even started, I decided to make an entrance.

Not intentionally.

I had a large Dutch Bros passion fruit soda with me. Had.

I took one step wrong with my prosthetic leg, and the prosthetic interpreted that movement as, “Oh, we're taking another step? Got it.”

Except we weren't.

The knee started to bend.

And when you're wearing an above-the-knee prosthetic, there comes a magical moment when you realize:

I'm going down.

Once the prosthetic starts bending as though I'm passing the leg through for the next step, I can't simply pull it back and say, “Never mind.”

Physics has already accepted the assignment.

So down I went.

And so did the passion fruit soda.

All. Over. The. Carpet.

My arm got a pretty impressive rug burn in the process. It was bleeding, and as you can see from the picture, it's definitely going to leave me with a little reminder of the adventure.

Fortunately, the arm really doesn't hurt that much.

My pride? That's another story.

There's something particularly humbling about falling in front of people while simultaneously launching a giant beverage across the carpet.

At least I provided the pre-meeting entertainment.

Falls with a prosthetic are interesting because sometimes there isn't much time to recover. I knew exactly what was happening as soon as that knee began bending.

My brain: We're falling.

My prosthetic: Correct.

Gravity: I got it from here.

The good news is I'm okay. The arm will heal. My pride will eventually recover.

I'm not sure about the carpet.