Stripe's Journal - Dr. Barinov LATN Externals

Chapter Two: Surgery  I

Beep – Beep – Beep

My eyes shoot open and stare at the ceiling, my pupils move side to side as I take a small deep breath. Today is the day. I push the sheets away from my body and sit up on my bed slowly. Grabbing my phone I see that it’s 7:45 in the morning – I have some time.

I get up and walk over to the washroom and brush my teeth before taking a shower. I can’t help but think about how this will be the last time I’ll be able to do this so easily… I lean against the sink after I throw some clothes on and just stare at the mirror for a few minutes. Everything has added up to this day. All the stress of wearing lifts, the sad nights reading the forum, the constant height comparisons on the streets – with my friends – of celebrities. It’s all come down to today.

Knock knock.

I snap out of it – “Hey, sorry I’ll be out in a sec.” It’s Tonya – “Hurry up, we should leave soon.” – “Okay – coming give me a few.” Once I’m ready I gather my things and wake up my roommate to say goodbye. He wishes me good luck and we high five before I walk out the door. On the way to the elevator Tonya looks at me with the same concern I’ve seen on her face since I’ve arrived, “how are you feeling, ready?” I smile and say “Don’t worry, I feel good, I’m ready.”

She moves to grab a bag out of my hand but I stop her and put it on the floor. There was something I wanted to do before we left. I quickly walk into the fitness room and start the treadmill. If today was the day they break my legs, then today would be the last time I run. I jumped on and jogged for two minutes, trying my best to appreciate the feeling, but I guess the notion that “you don’t know what you have until it’s gone” only really holds true when it’s actually gone. I turned it off and let the ribbon pull me away until I hopped back on the floor.

I had been in this city for nearly a week at this point but it wasn’t until I was in the taxi on my way to the hospital that I really began to get a feel for the environment I was in. I leaned my head against the window as I breathed in the fume polluted air. The roads were bumpy and the streets were filthy. Every car was covered in a thick layer of dirt. I sighed as we passed a stray dog drinking muddy water out of a puddle. Tonya notices my gloomy mood but mistakenly attributes this to the weather. “The rain means good luck, yes? On my wedding day it also rained” she proclaimed. I laughed and said “well, I guess it’s my lucky day” as I leaned my head against the window.

Once in the hospital we sat and waited in a little room with two flimsy beds and a large window. There was another patient in the room with us – a big, tall fellow with a swollen foot. He never bothered to look up at us as he leaned his back against the wall and read his novel quietly.  Tonya and I spent what little time we had left discussing my feelings, her concerns and what to expect over the next several days. She asked me for what would be the last time if I had any remaining doubts. I told her that I really couldn’t be anymore ready.

Dr. Tsirkov knocks on the door and walks in sheepishly as he glances down at a clipboard.  “Passport” he says as I begin to scramble, patting through my jacket. Found it - He leaves with my passport and Tonya let’s out a sigh as if to say “okay, well I guess it’s time to go.” I make a joke that the next time she see’s me I’ll have no legs and she tries not to laugh as she gives me a light slap on the arm. She gives me her final best wishes and walks out the door. As if through a revolving door Dr. Sirkov walks in and hands me my passport. He leads me to another room, where a group of Russian doctors are arranged sporadically around the room. Some sitting on couches, others leaning against walls. One of them smoking as he sits on a table. There must be nearly a dozen eyes glancing in my direction.

 A large man sporting a gray military cut walks in with a mask over his mouth. He begins speaking and Tsirkov begins to translate: “if you are planning to sleep, the prices of both anesthetics will be 4000 rubles total.” I slowly panic as I realize that I only have 2000 rubles on me and that Tonya had just left. I take the first elevator down to the ATM machine near the entrance of the hospital.

INSUFFICIENT FUNDS.

I read that three times before I made my way back to the fourth floor – crap.

I go back to the room where my belongings sat and pulled out a $100 American bill. If the American dollar is as valuable as it’s supposed to be, this will be the test. I walk up to Tsirkov and tell him that I only have American funds and that I have no other way of getting rubles. He looks at me for a moment and then walks back into the room full of doctors. I stood there anxiously as I thought about the possibility that I may have to stay awake during the surgery; it made me nauseous. Finally Tsirkov walks out with the anesthesiologist and asked for the $100 bill, I give it to him and ask him to make sure that I get the most expensive anaesthesia. I really couldn’t afford to experience this week long headache I’ve heard so much about.

Tsirkov leads me to an empty room and tells me to wait here for ten minutes “A nurse will come to get you shortly.” I nervously ask him what will happen my belongings and he tells me not to worry, it will be moved. I open my mouth to tell him I have expensive valuables but he cuts me off to remind me that “I have much more important things to worry about.”

In these final moments I begin to reflect on the long journey that I have taken to get here. I flip through all the feelings of inadequacy I’ve felt over the years, all the thoughts that had brought me to this point. It’s crazy to think about how much of my life this has consumed recently – to the point that I’ve put everything on hold to be here.

The nurse comes to get me and asks me to follow her. She leads me to a room and gets me to strip and put on scrubs. We begin to walk through a series of backdoors. On the way we pass a big window where I see a group of surgeons hovering around an open body, their tools moving in and out. I begin to sweat as I realize that I’m really about to do this.

We get to a room and the nurse asks me to lay down on the operation table. She gets the IV flowing through me as the other nurses begin walking in as they tie their masks. Even with their faces covered, the girls here are so pretty. The anesthesiologist walks in and straightens out my spine, pushing my head forward. I feel a prick go through my spine - it’s incredibly uncomfortable. Three more. They feel like very internal mosquito bites. I lay on the table as Tsirkov walks in - still no sign of Barinov. A nurse attaches a device to my finger and wraps another device around my bicep, without looking I assume it’s to check my blood pressure and monitor my heart rate. I look at my other arm where the IV is connected to – my heart begins to beat very quickly - needles always make me uneasy.

As if on que, the anesthesiologist pulls out a large needle and begins poking my legs, asking me if I feel anything sharp. I say no. I begin to try and curl my toes, it’s very difficult… fk. I feel myself sweating – the anxiety begins hitting me all at once.

Not being being to feel my legs terrifies me – and it finally starts to hit me that I’m doing this. My mind begins to feel foggy but I’m not sure if it’s the anaesthesia. Is the same needle that made me feel numb supposed to put me to sleep – or do they give me gas? I start looking for the gas machine as I begin to lose feeling in my chest - breathing slowly as if I’m slipping under water. Why isn't Dr .......

Surgery  II

I wake up in a panic.

I can’t tell if I’m in a hospital room or if I’m being moved on a stretcher – everything is a daze.

I wake up again.

I roll my head over and see a nurse – she’s speaking circles in Russian.

I wake up again.

This time I’m frantic.

SHARP. CRIPPLING. PAIN runs through my back.

I’m screaming.

I’m in the corner of a bed in a dark room, screaming.  A nurse rushes in and pushes a needle in my leg.

I wake up again.

Barniov and Tsirkov are standing at the entrance of my room with coats on. I yell out at them immediately that my back is in crippling pain – they tell me that the nurse is coming – but she just came?

I wake up again.

The pain has faded. My mind is hazy, I see the frames on my legs but I pay them no attention.

Everything is dark.

I’m in nothing but my underwear. They’re wet. The bed feels wet.

A nurse with dark hair comes in and says PISS PISS as she puts a large bottle with the top cut off on the floor beside me.

I fall back asleep.

I wake up needing to use the washroom. This time it isn’ t piss piss.

I try to stand – BAD IDEA.

I shout out in pain.   I yell out to the NURSE, NURSE!    There’s a button beside me with a picture of a nurse – I must have hit it 50 times. It doesn’t work.

Two ladies from the room beside me come rushing out, they peer in the room and begin yelling.

SISTER, SISTER!

A memory from years ago comes back to me: my mom referring to a nurse as a sister as I sat confused.

SISTER! I scream.

She comes running in with a man that looks like a doctor, she pierces me with a needle.

Time passes before I begin to try to get to the washroom with the walker that was left beside my bed. I’m sweating and yelling as I try to lift my body with the walker. Two nurses are trying to support me, speaking frantically in Russian. I just need to get to the washroom.

Another nurse rushes towards me with a large plastic bowl with a handle, I realize what it is.

I shake my head aggressively. NO, NYET, NYET. I begin to move faster.

I’m in pain but none of it feels real. Everything feels like a dream.

I support my body pushing down on the walker and lift myself forward. I finally make it, drenched in sweat.

I wake up in the middle of the night with relatively clear mind. I try to recall everything that happened. It all felt like a dream, how many times did I pass out? The feeling in my legs instantly hits me. They feel so heavy. I can only move by lifting my body with my arms. My underwear is drenched. I feel so ashamed.

I don’t want Barinov to come into the room and have it smell like urine. It takes 20 minutes to take my boxers off – it takes another 30 to put another pair on. My legs are so sore. The pain is sharp every movement I make.

I begin to slowly peel the sheets off the bed, pulling at all four corners. The only part I can’t get off is the part I’m sitting on. I begin to shift my body slowly, trying to avoid moving my legs. A nurse walks in and begins to help me – it’s the PISS PISS nurse. I’m so embarrassed. She removes the sheets and replaces them with new ones and leaves.

A male doctor walks in, he speaks English. It was the same one that came in last night with the nurse. He asks me how I’m feeling, if I have any pain? I tell him I’m okay. His English starts to become more broken, I can no longer understand him but then he says “morphine” while pointing at my leg. I look at him and realize that I had been given morphine last night, that must be why I was able to make it to the washroom.

He leaves.

I sit there for awhile staring at my legs before pulling out baby wipes - there would be no showers for me anytime soon. I wipe away the sweat and urine as the sun starts to come up – my mind replaying the last twelve hours over and over again.

Chapter Three: Hospital I

The man with the swollen foot who had been waiting in the room with me the day earlier arrived in a stretcher and was placed in the bed beside me.  His entire right leg was bandaged and he looked a bit drowsy – just came out of surgery I assume. I can’t help but wonder why they were carrying him in like royalty instead of just bringing him in with a wheelchair.

Well anyways, since we’ll be sharing a room we may as well get to know each other. I try to start up some conversation but he doesn’t speak much English – or rather, I don’t speak much Russian. After a moment of awkward acknowledgment that we weren’t ever going to have a real conversation he pulls out the same book from the day before and begins reading silently.

It’s been a day since my surgery now but I’ve only been fully awake for a few hours. The room I’m in is small but not crowded. There are two beds with tables by each one, a large window with a spacious sill behind us and a sink with two chairs lined up against the wall beside the door. There is a heater but no air conditioner and the fridge is in the cafeteria down the hall.

My legs are swollen and they’re very, very sore. That’s exactly how I would describe the pain – sore. There is sharp pain and there is aching pain and what I’m feeling right now on the first day is an aching-sore pain. It’s the type of pain you get when you press down on a bruise. It’s not entirely as bad as I expected it to be but it’s still very painful. I try to avoid moving my legs as much as I can because any slight movement causes me to yell.

Every six hours a nurse comes by to inject me with 30mg of keterol which is the painkiller they use here at the hospital. It works fairly well at keeping my legs from throbbing in pain and keeps things relatively comfortable until it wears off and everything begins to hurt again. Oddly, the injection itself is quite painful – probably because it’s going straight into the muscle.

As I begin to massage my leg to stimulate blood flow a lady’s voice begins yelling in the hall way. It’s the food lady – she walks into my room and begins shuffling through my things. She’s looking for my disposable bowls so that she can bring me some food from the cafeteria. Now when I say food I’m being quite generous. It’s barely even food, more like water and paste. Today’s lunch is noodles and warm milk. Barely the type of nutrition needed for someone who just came out of an invasive surgery – but at this point I’m so hungry I’ll eat paper machete.

A little while after I finish eating Dr. Tsirkov walks in with navy blue scrubs and turns immediately to my roommate. I take it that he is also Tsirkov’s patient which would explain why we were waiting together in the same room before my surgery. Finally, he turns to me and shakes my hand. I half jokingly tell him that I’ve missed him all this time and he responds with a stare. He asks me if my back was okay and begins to explain that the pain I had felt after the surgery was likely from the position stiffness and the injections.

He leans against the frame of my bed and says “okay, well let’s see you stand up.” I look at him and search for a smirk but he isn’t kidding. “Can you walk to bandage change?” he asks. “Uhh, I don’t think I can..” I respond.

“Yes, you can.”

He brings the walker to the edge of my bed and tells me to hold on the sides and lift myself up. I’m absolutely terrified. I sit up and try to move my legs off the bed but it hurts. With both hands Dr. Triskov gently grabs the frame on my right leg and moves my leg off the bed and does the same with the left. I always imagined that hitting the frames or touching the frames would be painful but it isn’t. I take a deep breath and hold on to the side of the walker and try to lift my body but I’m terrified that it will tip.

My roommate is watching anxiously now, his book in his lap. Dr. Tsirkov assures me that the walker won’t tip and that he’ll hold on to me just to make sure. Okay. I begin to push down on the handles to lift my butt up from the bed – AHHH fk. No. I can’t. It hurts. “Try again” he says. Okay, ARGHHHH. No. fk. Again, URGGHH  - fk almost, almost, ugh OW no. I can’t do it. I take back what I said about the pain not being as bad as I thought. It sucked.

Dr. Tsirkov tells me that standing for the first time is always the most difficult, but that it gets easier and that the pain fades quickly. Sigh.. okay. He gives me a little assistance this time and I manage to lift myself and straighten my legs – but I quickly lose balance – he grabs me and I hold myself up by pushing on the walker. He explains that the frames have added weight to my legs and on top of that my bones are broken and therefore I need to re-learn how to balance. He tells me that as long as I walk every single day, it will come easily. At this point – I absolutely do not believe him.

I take my first step forward – fk. That is fking painful. I don’t know if it’s where they’ve drilled the pins into my legs or if the pain is coming from where the bone is broken but no matter what angle I put pressure on my legs, it fking kills. He tells me to keep going.

“I can’t it hur..”

“Keep going..”

Okay.. second step. No, no I can’t. This is impossible.

He rolls his eyes: "first step always painful. Body must get used to pain first, then it will become easier.”

Alright.. like when? In six months?

“..walk.”

I begin to re-adjust and lift most of my weight with my arms and only slightly land on each leg, focusing instead on raising my legs off the ground.

I can’t believe I did this to myself. A day ago I could run a marathon backwards, today I can’t even lift my foot off the ground. This is fked.

Hospital II

“It is always tough in the beginning but you need to learn how to walk again – you are learning, see? Keep going.”

I’m still in the process of trying to get to the bandage room – it’s been five minutes and I’ve only just left my room. I keep trying – lifting one foot and shifting my weight and then landing that foot while lifting myself up in order to soften the pain. I’m smirking now because it’s getting a little easier – although I’m still in a lot of pain, it’s bearable. Besides, all I’m really doing at this point is lifting my body and moving forward rather than moving my legs.

We finally get to the room and change my bandages. They’re all bloody from where the pins go into my legs. A nurse assists Dr. Tsirkov as he cuts the bandages off and reveals my legs. This is the first time I get to see the pins without the bandages – it’s weird to see how they just go straight into my leg from one end and out the other. The nurse and Tsirkov scrub my legs with alcohol and place anti-septic soaked bandages around each of the pins before wrapping my legs back up with bandages. Dr. Tsirkov explains that I’ll need to do this every 7 days and then calls for the nurse to bring me a wheelchair and wheel me back to my room.

For most of the day I lay in bed and focus on trying to relax. I make sure to take all my supplements according to my plan and drink as much water as I can. Eventually, Dr. Barinov comes by and asks me how I’m feeling. I ask him why he broke my legs and he laughs and responds with “good question.” I like Dr. Barinov – he’s always very calm and a bit charming. He tells me that he expects me to walk for five hours and I begin laughing but he tells me it’s not a joke. I tell him that it’s a big joke because there is no way I can walk even an hour let alone five.

Like Tsirkov, he explains that I must keep moving my legs otherwise it will make walking much more difficult. It’s difficult for me to understand how I’m supposed to walk when my legs are in so much pain and the swelling hasn’t gone down. Not to mention that the wounds around my pin sites are still so fresh. He continues and explains that although my bones are broken the frames are holding them together as if they were still one piece and therefore I’m completely capable of walking and need to keep moving in order for my body to adjust to the change as well as ease the pain. It makes sense but it doesn’t change how difficult it is – I can’t help but think about the fact that neither Barinov or Tsirkov have ever had to go through this themselves.

Barinov leaves and I lay back down again and stare at the ceiling. All I can think about is how much I truly rely on my legs. I’m literally stuck on this bed right now. I can’t just get up anymore. I can’t even move my legs because of the pain right now. Lifting my leg KILLS. Turning my leg KILLS. Putting any pressure on my legs KILLS. I literally can’t do anything but sit or lay down. It feels in a way as if I’m paralyzed. I check to make sure everything is on my table and not close to the edges – I can’t have anything I need fall, otherwise I’ll never be able to get it.

I roll my head over to the side and look at my roommate. He’s still reading that book but he’s nearly finished it now. I try talking to him again but this time I use my hands and try to make out a few Russian words. He does the same and eventually we get a conversation going – I found out he’s 36 years old and that he married his childhood sweetheart. He has two sons that are eleven and five years old – the oldest plays the saxophone and the younger one likes to go fishing. He works in construction – has lived in Volgograd his entire life and enjoys hunting with his friends. I point to his foot and he explains that he injured it while playing football after work. Pleased with ourselves we both laugh and give a thumbs up – not bad for a vocabulary of fifteen words and a few hand signs.

Soon after, night time approaches and my biggest fear starts creeping up. I need to go to the bathroom again – fk. I can’t walk there I think to myself – but I have to. I reach out and struggle to grab the walker but eventually pull it towards me. I try to lift myself up but my arms are shaking too heavily. My roommate looks up from his book with amusement, uttering a few Russian words as he gives me a thumbs up. I manage to lift myself up as he cheers me on but I almost fall back down again as my knees begin to buckle.  I stand there for a minute and try to absorb the pain before I try taking the first step. I finally do it but it hurts so much. I figure out that I need to completely straighten my legs in order to ease the pain and I manage to push myself up this way.

It takes me ten minutes to walk out of my door – which is a two metre distance from my bed. It takes another ten minutes to walk another two metres into the hallway. At this point I’m so exhausted and I’m sweating from head to toe. I stand there panting and squinting my eyes from the massive headache I have from all the stress. By far this has to be the most difficult thing I have ever had to do in my life. It sucks but I have to bare through it – this is what I signed up for.

I stand in the middle of the hallway for three minutes – the washroom is another two metres away. I’m breathing so heavily at this point that the women in the room next time mine come out to check what’s going on. They see me and begin to call out for the nurse who eventually comes out of her room. She takes one look at me and then goes back into her room. I stand there anxiously for another minute until she comes back out with a needle in hand. She pulls my pants down slightly and injects the painkiller right into my buttocks – OUFF that hurts so much – there really needs to be a painkiller for these painkillers.

She assists me in walking the rest of the way but I come across a problem. The washroom entrance is tiny – literally the size of a small apartment coat closet. The walker doesn’t fit through the door unless you turn it – which means I need to completely turn my body. Sounds easy – but one day post surgery – it really isn’t. I lift myself up and turn sideways and the nurse helps me push the walker into the washroom. When I’m finally inside it takes me three minutes to adjust myself in the washroom and finally sit down. Ugh – finally I made it. I don’t have to worry about doing this again for several hours. I look and notice that there is no toilet paper… what the fk. Suddenly the nurse opens the door and hands me a roll. Okay – so I guess Russian hospitals don’t supply toilet paper – you need to bring your own.

When I finish I begin walking back to the room but this time it’s much easier – probably due to the painkillers. When I finally get to my bed I lay awake and just think. Sigh – I don’t really know what I expected… I knew this was going to be hard but I didn’t know how hard. Everyone says such different things – some patients say it’s not that bad but others say it’s brutal. All in all reading about this experience is far more different than actually going through it. It’s only been one day with the frames on and I’m already seeing just how difficult this all is.

I’m reminded of something an older patient at the clinic said to me: this experience is very personal – it’s a true test of strength, both mental and physical. If you can do this then you really have accomplished something amazing. Something to be proud of – this will probably be the most difficult thing you ever do in your life but in the end you will have gained much more than just height.

Hospital III

SNORE. Exhale. SNORE. Exhale.

Sigh. Well, guess I’m not falling back asleep now.

I lay in bed on my back, staring into the darkness. Tapping my fingers against the covers, I turn my head to look at my roommate. He’s a nice guy, I just wish he had better air circulation.

I pull back the covers and begin to move my legs. A little to the left, a little to the right. I try moving them up and down, but they’re too heavy. It’s still so painful, but I need to get used it. I start pushing against the pain and lifting my legs higher, every minute that passes gets me somewhere. I start to feel pretty confident. I start to think about the walk back from the washroom last night, it actually wasn’t that bad. I guess Tsirkov is right, the more I try the easier it becomes.

After about an hour I’m actually able to lift my legs in different directions. Sweet! I’m doing alright after all.

I need to use the washroom again. Hmm. I think I can make it this time, but what about the walker? I don’t want to ask another nurse to help me get it in... Maybe I can use the crutches? They’ll fit in no problem. I grab my crutches and adjust the length. This seems to wake my roommate up, light sleeper I guess. He pulls himself up and rubs his eyes. He see’s me holding the crutches and gives me a thumbs up.

I pull the walker close to me so I can lift myself up and then switch to the crutches. Standing up is a lot easier now that I’ve exercised my legs for an hour. I carefully lift my left arm off the walker to grab a crutch. It takes me three tries to finally do this without losing balance. I go to grab the other crutch. I hold myself up for two seconds before I completely lose balance and begin to tumble, making a very hard landing on my right leg. I scream. SO fking loud.

fk, fk, fk. I fall back onto the bed, in complete agony. My roommate begins yelling, SISTER, SISTER! For fks sake, how many times is this story going to repeat itself. I’m groaning loudly. This really hurts. The two ladies next door come out of their room, they start trying to calm me down, but it doesn’t help. I can’t understand them. One of them leaves to go get a nurse. Suddenly my roommate begins to laugh.

It’s one of those sort of nervous laughters, one where you can’t help it when you think about what just happened. I would laugh too. How stupid am I? Why the fk did I think I could use crutches? I can barely walk with the walker. I exercise my legs for an hour and suddenly I think I’m ready to do anything.

The nurse never comes and I stay in bed holding my right leg. fk. What if I broke it? It’s already broken. No, but what if I broke it more? I don’t know. I’m so stupid.

Hours pass and the morning comes. I keep asking for Tsirkov and he finally arrives. He asks me how I fell but I didn’t want to tell him I was stupid enough to try using the crutches. He tells me that I’ll be okay and that the frame is very strong, it’s meant to protect the leg against added force and weight. I told him that this was different, that I really hurt my leg and that I need to rest. He looks at it again and tells me that I haven’t broken any pins and that I’ll be okay, I just need to keep exercising my legs and being active. Ugh, again with this crap. I can’t be active when I’m in this much pain. He tells me I’m being lazy. This makes me mad, but I don’t say anything. He tells me to lift my left leg, I try. It’s really difficult but I do it. He tells me to do the same with my right, this one is much harder, it’s still in a lot of pain from the fall. I can’t do it I tell him.

He tells me that I need to spend the rest of the day trying to move my legs around and that the pain will go away. He leaves and tells me he’ll see me tomorrow.

Hospital IV

I begin exercising my left leg but I let my right leg rest. My roommate tries encouraging me to get up and exercise but I tell him that I can’t, I injured my leg. He says something along the lines of “Tsirkov says normal” I look at him and pretend to shoot my leg and say “Tsirkov, still says normal” implying that if I got shot in the leg Tsirkov would still tell me it’s okay and that I need to exercise. He doesn’t respond to this.

The day started to go by and I was really angry with myself. I’m never going to heal well now. It’s going to take me forever to learn to walk again because now my leg is injured and I’ll have to wait for it to heal. This sucks.

I start to get really sad. My knees are in a lot of pain and they constantly feel locked. I had really bad knee problems from even before the surgery so I begin to think that my knees are the problem. fk. I shouldn’t have done this surgery. I’m never going to heal well, I’m going to have even worse knee problems. If I keep these frames on I’m going to get knee replacement surgery because of how much the added weight will deteriorate my joints. I call Tonya and tell her what happened. I tell her that I told Tsirkov but that he doesn’t believe that I’m hurt, she gets upset and tells me she’ll call him right away.

I lay in bed for the rest of the day, barely moving my legs. Tonya calls me back and tells me that Tsirkov said that I’m fine, I just need to get out of bed or else I’ll make it worse. I tell her that Tsirkov doesn’t understand, he’s not the one that fell. I can feel that something is wrong, he’s just being a classic doctor. I tell her I’m just going to keep resting and see how I feel tomorrow.

I barely eat today. I don’t want to have to go to the washroom again. I won’t be able to do it. I’m really starting to feel pathetic now. It’s only my second day. I can’t believe it. How do people go through this for 6 months to a year? I keep reminding myself of the 47 year old patient. If he’s doing it, why am I having such a hard time? Because I have bad knees, I tell myself. All those years wearing lifts have ruined my knees and now that I’m doing something about having to wear lifts, It comes back to bite me. It’s all a cycle.

I take a sleeping pill and wait an hour until I doze off.

I wake up in the middle of the night, my roommate is snoring again. Ugh, I’m so tired. I feel so drowsy. These pills are strong. Kay, go back to sleep.

.. I can’t. Ugh.

I try moving my legs, OW. What the fk.

Both of my knees are locked, I can’t move either one of my legs. Oh my god. It’s over, I’m screwed. I should have listened to Tsirkov, I shouldn’t have stayed in bed all day. I didn’t use my legs all day and now everything is locked up. fk.

I spend half an hour trying to move my legs, making very little progress. My knees really hurt. I HATE THESE fkING KNEES.

… fk. I need to go to the washroom. Every. fking. Night. Why did I hold it in? Why am I so stupid? I hate myself. Okay. I need to try moving my legs. I spent 30 minutes moving my legs against the pain. They stop being so stiff. Everything eases up a little. I start feeling a little better, but I’m still in a lot of pain.

I pull myself up on the walker and begin walking. fk. This is really, really, really hard. I’m putting in as much effort as I can to take centimetre’s worth of movement.  It takes me 15 minutes to walk to the door, longer than it’s taken me before. I’m fully drenched in sweat at this point.

I’m super drowsy from the sleeping pills, my knees are still locked and my right leg is really difficult to move. The pain is almost overwhelming. I keep stopping 3 minutes at a time. I make it to the middle of the hallway, the same place I always stop. This time, I know I won’t make it.

I just want to sit down. I feel like I’m going to faint. My roommate starts calling out to me. I can barely respond. I just start yelling out “sister, SISTER!”. This goes on forever. Finally an old lady wakes up and comes out of her room. She tries to help me but realizes I need a nurse, and quickly. She gets a nurse.

I can tell this nurse just woke up, she’s cranky. She stabs me with the painkiller and I motion that I need a wheelchair. She brings me one and I sit down. fk. I’m so exhausted. I sit there for so long just trying to catch my breath. The nurse starts to push the chair forward towards the washroom. When we get to the entrance I tell her to position the walker infront of the washroom, she does a horrible job of doing this and I have to put in 10 times more effort to readjust myself. She’s a bitch. She’s speaking to me in Russian and she’s being a bitch and not being helpful at all. She’s mad that I woke her up.

After 3 minutes of struggling, she makes me sit back down in the wheel chair and she aggressively pushes me back into my room. What the fk are you doing? I need to  . Oh my fking god, I’m so tired. She brings me into my room and then leaves.

What the fk.

Then she comes back with that stupid plastic bowl with the handle. fk.

She looks at me and says something, and I look at my roommate. He gives me a look and shrugs his shoulders. fk that. I look at her and say “Nyet.” She gets mad and I start to wheel away, heading back to the washroom.

She sighs and begins to push the chair. I start to feel better after having sat down for so long, and the painkillers had kicked in. I manage to get in the washroom, and I do my business.

Sigh. fk me man. Every night I have to struggle SO hard to go to the washroom. I can’t believe how difficult this all is. I’m really beginning to have regrets now.

I stay in there for 15 minutes, dreading having to go through the walk back.

Eventually I get up and do it.

Wait? My knees.. they’re not locking anymore. I don’t even really feel much pain. I begin to start taking faster and bigger steps. I make it back to the room in three minutes. What?

I don’t understand. Why is it suddenly so easy? What kind of painkillers did that nurse give me? Even my roommate is impressed. He claps when I reach my bed. I feel bad for him, I woke him up.

I lay in bed feeling much better. I start to realize that I’m an idiot and that I really just need to listen to what Sirkov tells me. This is his field of study, he’s had many patients go through this exact thing. He knows what he’s talking about and I need to just listen. I spent all day in bed and it made everything tighten up, now that I had to use my legs and put all my effort into it everything loosened up and the pain went away.

Then again, I really hope it’s not just the painkillers.

Hospital V

I stay in the hospital for a total of ten days. By the end of my time there I was barely eating as I couldn’t stomach the “food” anymore. My roommate had gone home and I was beginning to feel a little better. Unfortunately, a few days before I did the operation my phone had fallen and cracked so it was at the shop being fixed. The hospital doesn’t have WIFI and the internet stick Tonya purchased for me didn’t work with my mac – so I was stuck with an old phone that I could only make local phone calls with.

On the seventh day I managed to walk down an entire hallway, even though it took me twenty minutes. The painkiller keterol was my best friend, if I took it – I could walk. Walking of course was still difficult – but it was easier than the first few days. Of course I was in pain but it wasn’t as bad as it had been and in a way I was beginning to get used to it.

Two nights before I left another patient was admitted and placed in my room – this time it was a male correction patient. When I first saw him walking in with Dr. Tsirkov, I thought he was for certain going to be another lengthening patient because he stood at 161 CM. He didn’t speak a word of Russian but we communicated through google translate on his phone. He was 25 years old, working in St. Petersburg but came from the Ukraine. He was so fascinated by my frames and he revealed that his biggest dream was to do lengthening but that he couldn’t afford it – he told me with his wages it would take him 6 years to save up.

Feeling guilty, I try to convince him that height isn’t everything and that he shouldn’t think about it so much. He gives me a look as if to say fk off and then points at my legs and I nod without anything to say. “I wish I was your height” he says and I start to feel worse. As the conversation continues, it becomes heavy. “Sometimes, I ask god why he put me in this body? – What did I do to deserve this life?” I try to tell him not to think that way but it’s pointless. He tells me that he’s correcting his bowed leg because it’s just one less complex he’ll have and eventually he’ll do the lengthening and his life will be better. I say nothing.

I was so ready to leave the hospital and return to the clinic where there was real food and people to talk to. Halfway through the week, Max and another patient Andrew had come to visit me with Tonya. I was so happy to see them and talk to someone about what I was dealing with. They assured me that everyone went through the same things when they were in the hospital and that everything will get easier – the first two weeks are toughest. In fact, they told me I was lucky because I was returning to the clinic after only ten days – most patients stay 3 weeks and a few even stayed a couple of months. – I was only leaving because I demanded that I be brought back to the clinic – but this made me feel better anyways.

On the morning of the last day, Tonya walks into my room and I let out a loud cheer. She grabs my stuff and we begin to make our way to the elevator and out of the hospital. It takes me about 30 minutes to walk from my room to the exit of the building. I have never been happier to go outside in my life. It was snowing and the air felt so good. A cab pulls up and I struggle to maneuver my way inside the car but eventually I figure it out. It hurt to sit down so crammed but I was just so happy to be in a car.

Chapter Four: Clinic Lengthening I
0 - 1CM

Coming back to the clinic was great. The food was good, my roommate that spoke English was there and there was this new beautiful girl that was doing a correction procedure living next door.

On the second day I was back Dr. Tsirkov came to see me and gifted me with a small box wrench which he called a “key”. This of course is what I would use to turn the screws on the frame. He explained that I needed to turn each screw 90 degrees, four times a day for a total of 1MM a day.

He reminded me that I needed to get out of bed and start walking and stick to my stretches – I say yeah, yeah and he leaves. I set timers to remind myself to turn and I go back to sleep.

For the first few days, I spend most of my time in bed. Everyone tells me that I need to walk more because my muscles would atrophy quickly and it would become even more difficult to walk. I hate the pain and I think to myself that I’ll give my legs sometime to heal before I start walking. I stick to my stretches and I use the foot holders they gave us even though they slip off and are hard to put on.

On the third say since I left the hospital we have a party at night and eat Russian food that some of the local patients made and we drink a little – although I stick to a beer or two.

For the first week the pain remains strong – I take keterol in tablet form and it usually takes most of the soreness away – but walking is still difficult and really slow. Most of the other patients agree that I should be walking faster by now but almost everyday a new pain appears that makes it that much more difficult to walk for long periods of time.

There is a long hallway in the clinic that everyone walks up and down – it takes me about ten minutes to walk down one way and another ten to make it back. I hate this so much. I shouldn’t complain so much but I do – I always expect things to be easy and I always look for shortcuts. There is however, no shortcuts with this process – you either do it or you develop problems and have to stop.

Tonya says it’s because I’m still young and lazy – she doesn’t think young people should do this procedure. I don’t argue with her – but it’s so much easier for her to lecture when she’s not going through it.

After ten days of lengthening I reach 1CM and a lot of the pain has started to go away – it’s just difficult to walk because of the lack of balance and how much my muscles have weakened since surgery. I almost forget that I was in the hospital just a couple of weeks ago. It's still difficult to go to the bathroom - especially now that I don't use a bottle to pee but instead have to get up and walk out to the washrooms three times a night - but at least I'm not struggling as much.

I have noticed that it's a lot more difficult to hold in now though - if I need to pee or if I need to do the other business - it's almost a race against myself. I think the pressure and pain from walking makes it difficult not to piss myself every time I lift my leg and the same goes for the other route.

So now I'm at 22 days post surgery – 1CM down 9 CM of my goal left to go.. sigh.

Clinic Lengthening II
1 – 2.3 CM

I wake up in the middle of the night to a sharp pain in my right leg. Ugh, every time I bend my leg it stings and aches. From what I can tell it’s coming from one of the pin sites at the top of my leg, just below my kneecap. I hit the light by my bed and pull the covers off so that I can get a closer look.

 , I’m bleeding. It’s not heavy but it’s going through the bandaging, fk. It’s the start of the weekend which means I can’t see a doctor until Monday. I grab my phone and text Mercutio: I’m bleeding from one of my pins and it really hurts when I move..

I try to go back to sleep but it’s impossible – it’s really starting to hurt now. I look over to the now empty bed on the other side of my room. My roommate who we’ll call Jordan 10CM had returned home a few days ago. We message each other everyday and he tells me that his mother and sister barely noticed anything because they always saw him in lifts but that his dad and his brother have been freaking out. He says that he’s been out around his city and that not one person has looked at him weird – he’s starting to get over his long legs and doesn’t think too much about his proportions anymore.

Mercutio responds: it’s probably pin cutting – don’t worry, everyone gets it... it sucks but it’ll go away after awhile. I bang my head against the pillow – urghhh. Things were going really well since I hit 1 CM, I was now at 2.3 CM and it had been such a breeze. Almost all the pain in my legs had completely disappeared and walking became a lot easier and faster. It felt like I never had the operation – until I tried standing up.

Trying to stand up was always very difficult – I still had almost zero balance and would almost tip over every time I stood up. I skyped a friend from home and when she saw me trying to stand up she almost cried. Once that happened I refused to let my mom see me walk every time she would video call me and ask, I didn’t want her to see me struggle that way.

I was walking more now that the pain had gone away – but it still took me a long time to walk down the hallway and it was still very tiring. Everyone still said I was much slower than I should have been at that point. But now – now I have pin cutting, and it really hurt.

I try to stand up and walk to the washroom but the pain was so strong – it was a sharp stinging pain, like a big paper cut that would stretch and cut deeper every time you moved. Eventually I get up and I push through the pain. I continue lengthening that day, and the day after and then the day after that until it was Monday. Every day that passed the pain got worse and the more difficult it became to walk. The pain had begun to spread to the areas around the pin as if there was bruising.

I walked down the hallway to the clinic and told Dr. Barinov that I was experiencing really bad pain in my left leg and that I was bleeding from one of the pins. He tells me to go the operating room to have my bandages removed by the nurse and that he’ll come have a look. I slowly sit down to take my shoes off and put the foot covers on, wear a surgical mask and put on a hair net. The operating room is a sterile room, so we must be covered up when they remove the bandages to prevent any bacteria from going near any of the pin sites. Once I do this I go into the room and I try to get on the surgical seat on my own but the pin cutting is so painful now that it’s become really difficult to bend my leg. The nurse helps me and begins to remove my bandages. The blood has dried and it stings every time she removes the bandages.

When she finally removes the bandages I take a look at the pin site and it looked really bad. The pin site had started to get a little bigger and there was bruising all around. She cleans it up and Dr. Barinov comes in to take a look. He confirms that it is in fact pin cutting and that right now it looks normal although I do have a lot of bruising. He says that I need to have my bandages removed everyday and that it will be treated until it goes away in order to prevent any infection. I ask if I need to stop turning but he says that it won’t be necessary and that it will go away on it’s own as I continue turning. I’m relieved – I don’t want to have to stop turning.



Beginning of pincutting – removed bandages
 

Clinic Lengthening III
2.3 – 2.7 CM

Since Jordan 10CM left, the patient who had been here the longest was Hanes. Hanes was 168CM when he arrived here from the states and was living in an apartment by himself nearby. He was a really cool laid back guy who made really hilarious comments and even though he only came by once a week – it was refreshing to see him. On one particular day – a few days after I first started having pin cutting – he came into my room with an x-ray and gathered Max, Alan and I together – he had lengthened 11 CM.

Woah. Eleven centimetres!! I thought ten was pushing it a little but eleven?! He explains that he had lost track and that he had thought he was still at 9 and was just pushing for one more centimetre to get to 10. Dr. Barinov was FURIOUS – he thinks Hanes did it on purpose and now he’s trying to force him to turn back – but Hanes is over the top – 11 puts him at 179CM – that’s a huge difference than 168CM and there was no way he was going to turn back.

Aren’t you worried about your proportions I ask him? “No! I had baby tibias – my legs finally look good now, they’re not too long.”

He was right, his legs were long but they didn’t look out of the ordinary. But it’s hard to tell – Jordan 10CM felt the same way about his legs at 10CM but when he removed the frames they looked much longer and he freaked out… but we’ll have to wait and see.

Hanes’s regeneration wasn’t too good so he was going to have to wait a few months before getting the nail. Fortunately for him, he had fixed any ballerina he had and only needed to deal with a little bit of knee bending.

As for me, I was at 2.7 now but my pin cutting had gotten so painful that I was no longer using my left leg much when I was walking – leaning instead on my right leg and dragging my left. Dr. Barinov and Tsirkov would stop and lecture me every time they saw me do this but it was just too painful to walk normally. I was taking keterol daily, but the pain was still too strong.

After about a week from the first sign of my pin cutting Dr. Barinov told me I needed to stop turning because the pin cutting was getting larger and because I had obviously been touching it - I had an infection. The hole from my pin site had become quite large and was unbelievably painful – sleeping was a nightmare, walking was torture and even just laying down was terrible. The pain was constant and it was getting worse everyday rather than better.

I was pissed but It was just part of the process and I knew this.

My friend from the hospital, the 161CM Ukrainian – who we’ll call Ukraine had left the hospital and was now living in the clinic. There were four of us in the clinic now – Ukraine, the beautiful blonde girl who we’ll call Amanda and her roommate – who I barely talked to.

Every morning we would meet in the lounge and drink tea, have breakfast and talk about life – through google translator. The pain sucked, lengthening was a slow process, I missed home and I missed being able to walk – but Amanda and Ukraine helped me get through it by providing company and lots of assistance – as they were correction patients, and could walk without crutches.

We would eat lunch and dinner together and then spend all night talking until we went to bed. They would teach me Russian and I would teach them English – it was fun – but I really wished I was still turning instead of just hanging out all the time.



Pin cutting getting worse


With friends at the clinic - lounge area