Dear Left Leg,
I'm sorry I'm going to have surgery
on you. I'm sorry for the pain I'm going to allow you to be in. I'm
sorry that you'll be broken and reset in order to make you longer. I'm
sorry that you'll have to be encased in a metal cage with thin rods
sticking into your flesh down to the bone for six months.
I'm
sorry for the scares that you will have after the leg brace is gone. I
promise I will apply as much Neosporin and/or Mederma I can put on
you. And if that doesn't work to erase the scares or, at least, make
them almost invisible I will wear pants, jeans, tights or panty-hose to
hide your scares. For that I am sorry too. I'm sorry you won't feel
the sun or the cool wind on your bare skin but through cotton, denim or
nylon. But you will always be beautiful to me and maybe one day neither
of us will be self-conscious of our scares.
I'm
sorry that I wasn't happy with your length. That I wished you to be as
long as my right. And I want you to know that even being shorter you've
done an admirable job of taking me to the places I've needed to go
and holding me up when I needed to stand.
I'm sorry
I've hated you at times. I don't hate you now. I wish I'd never hated
you. This operation isn't because I hate you it's because I love you
and I want us to both be around for a long while. You're hurting left
foot and when I try to adjust my step to stop hurting left foot I end up
hurting you.
We haven't been happy lately. We've
been moving like an old person in a haze of Vicodin. It's not good for
us. I want us to stand, walk, and run. I want us to do a Color Run.
We can only do that if I have this operation on you.
Please
forgive me and understand. I'm doing this for both of us. Even after
the operation you will always be my shorter leg. You will always be a
part of me. I love you left leg.
Love always and forever,
A+
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