Why I was not to operate

While I was thinking to due schoolmedicine, there was a new persuasion coming on me on summer 2001, that leads to the fact not to touch scalpel again.

Everybody is not to know, I start my story from the beginning:

My story starts in a hot summer 1975. I was 10 years old and an ambulant surgeon suggested my parents to operate on my inherent exostosis. This decision was the greatest fault in my life. I was a boy like anybody else before. I ran, climbed and what boys doing in my age. And of course I wanted to be a hero, without any idea what will happen.

So I let myself into operation under heavy narcotics twice, lost much blood, awoke during operation several times (what I don't want to believe till now) and spent 3 days in coma.

The intention only to operate me on cosmetic purposes - like I mentioned before, I was in motion like a normal boy, only that the exostosis gave my body a bizarre shape, is not lost till today - lead into deseaster. I left hospital in totally other condition. The exostosis were still there and from then I was additionally scarred, lost any feelings in regions below my knees, were not enable to move my toes and disabled to stand on my heels. That is condition till today.

At that time my parents and me were not clarified enough to fight against surgeons' default. And orthodox medicine was like it ever will be: arrogant and not enable to do any accomodation.
I learnt to accept my handicap. Customized my fault movements and I challenged myself with it as normal boy under boys. Also with girls, getting more and more exciting on me, I did not have any problems because of that. So I felt myself as "normal". Only thing that I find ridiculous were the processes of suppression in me, which were sometimes very aggressive.

The "becoming awake" during narcotic my body till today accuse for. Harder: my body accuse my defeating position against such a possibility. But I learnt to handle it during all those years. That it lead to psychologic consequencies I don't want to conceal, but I do not want to do any comments on it here.

First years after summer 1975 I was permit to take part in sports. I was not to understand the reason why, but it was not important, because a hero in that age is doing, what mother was saying. In the age of 13 I start on sports again. Meanwhile I was best in handling my handicap. Only my teachers were not trust with it. At that time there was not any pedagogic concept in teachers' job, how to handle handicaped students. So they put me in different ways to order what I have to do and what I have to leave. That this behavior does not lead to trouble is only, because I already was a diversificated personality, which was going onwards to do, what inner voice was saying. So when teacher threatened me, I left and came back with medical certicate.

From that time onward I was in position to choose the sport I wanted; and to neglect the sport I didn't like. I decided to join for basketball. That was my sport, because even I was not enable to sprint that fast, so I was to become an expert to coordinate my movements in mind before I start to practice. That's why I was superlative spinning around. Nevertheless I was trained in confrontation and did not fear for. Briefly said: I was well dribbling basektball and good player in schoolteam. On top of it while we were playing host, a pain from trunk to left hollow of the knee imploded me. I felt down and did not get up first. Impossible.

In Uniklinik Essen (my practiced doctor seemed to learn quickly and might thought: before I drop this boy again in hands of botchers, I am going to transmit him to specialists), they cut an exostosis from my hollow of the knee, which had grown as much, that it shut a nerv. That was in 1981, means six years after the desastrous two operation in one hot summer.

Inbetween in 1977 there was to remove my blind gut, where somebody inside me is maintaining, that I did wake up during operation. But that does not matter much now. After that operation in 1981 I was quit, only to mentioned that aggressive happening were some inner kind started troubleshooting so that I was beating through windowglass in 1983 - it took me 2 weeks hospital and a new girlfriend.

Meanwhile I am master in mind coordination of my motor function. Sometimes they put me down the floor, but only because I did a coordination wrong or left it behind. Extraordinary obvious it became when I was offroad. Offroad strengthed my attention on high level and I managed. But as soon I left offroad, my attention became less and so it came to happen, that I felt to the floor without any reasonable barrier. Worth to mention is maybe, that I am going to lose my balance in darkness. I am only enable to move onwards on all four or when I can touch something. I even cannot cloth up myself in standing.

With all these handycaps I lived my life and left home for living on my own and started 1988 my apprendiceship as radio- and TV-technician. After I passed the test successfully there were some commissionary sceptics considered to my handycap. But my boss protected me and argued against raise of plea, maybe I couldn't walk the roof by followering: "ein guter Radio- und Fernsehtechniker steigt den Leuten nicht aufs Dach (good technician does not walk peoples cealing)". While the first 3-month-phase of appendice I finished my Abitur. And during the years of appendiceship I jobbed sometimes in a huge discotheque.

This became my doom: It has to be summer beginning of the 90's, when I stepped into broken glas, without to notice. I considered it at home and took necessary medical care. Because it did not hurt so it concealed the real dimension of infection was starting from that time within my toe. So I went summer 1992 with intensive fever to a local hospital and was to hold up signing papers that I do agree cut my toe off during operation, when it becomes necessary.

When I did awake from narcotics the nurse told me first, that my toe (this link is comic-nightmare of surgery my toe) was saved. What happened was a seven week stay in hospital. After that I cured and start to live again. And followering years became nice. I started my studies and a stay in USA and India. When somebody should had asked me, whether my doom is going to pull me under scalpel again, I would keep laughing.

1996 I was already in final exams on basic studies in social science and I went with a girl fellow student spontaniously for few days trip to Ibizia. We did not want to stay in a hotel. We had decided to walk the isle and to sleep under cover of the open sky. So we did. But already second day I considered a bleb on my toe. Same section were they treat me in hospital with diagnostics of chronicle osteomyelitis. The bleb made me scared and I believed into the heeling business of mother nature. So I put my toe into salty oceanwater. But the bleb ran open. I did not had foreign health insurance, nor I had sufficient cash for treatment. Travelling by walking was finished. We checked in a hotel at Ibiza's capitol San Antonia's and I went for heparin cream from the next drug store. I took a day for rest in my hotelroom and believed, that this might enough for cure. At the end of this one week trip I received the bill for my carelessness.

Sitting in the plane home I had to notice that my shank was swollen. My doctor treated me by antibiotics. So my doom was really in the beginning more than it was conscious to me. From the antibiotics the inflaming process was stopped for a while, but after half year it start with real trouble. Instead of beeing treated ambulant I decided to go for same hospital were I was treated in 1992. I plead intensivly for saving again my big toe. But x-ray records put another image onto the neon screen. Final section of the bone was so damned obscure from that osteomyelitis, that there was no chance to keep that section alive. But I did not want to resign the idea of amputation. I discussed several ideas to save, but every idea became more stupid as result of discussion, because of section's size was too small. So that I signed at least for amputation.

After that operation I noticed that instead of a big toe I had a big thing of flesh like a cheroot. Only I missed was the nail. Staying in hospital took me about seven weeks and an important semester at university. My financial support was also finished from that time. So I was in duty to earn money after I was out of the clinic. I started a job in a callcenter in Bochum and went to that job on crutches, which put me promptly again half year later into hospital again, although I was under ambulancy medical care. The treatening surgeon asured, that it might be good to go for hospital only because of intensive antibiotic therapy, but not for operation again. So I did agree with it. But I was to put under scalpel again under protest and on reputition on my local doctor, told me that operation not to be necessary. But there was no way to discuss: my second section of rest big toe bone was under heavy attac from infection, so they cut it off. Again I lost an important semester of my studies. In the meantime my house companion left also, because he became father.

Went wise from experience I started to wear only special shoes, should make my walking easier. 1998 I did several small jobs to survive. If I were to earn enough money to buy a car, but no, it were not enough. On the other hand I felt myself good per pedes again and used public transport. So I started to continue my studies. I moved from my downtown appartment and went back for a while to my parents' house.

Still while I studies I had a chance to give lessons for computer and internet education at Volkshochschule (common private school). That went that successfull that I was prefered to give lessons for rehabilitands. First I gave small lessons for a week or so only. That was in another spotting year of my doom 2001. Lesson on becoming women group of teletraders was so successfull, that I was ordered for the whole department to give lessons regularly (compare to my CV). I did not recognise that my special shoe started some pressure trouble on my stump of toe.

Meanwhile I lived at my new girlfriend's place nicely and comfortable downtown. And during a very hot summerday - I remember well - my girlfriend was at her job, and me I spent afternoon totally outbursted and with high temperature in bed. On my lymphatic gland I put a cold canne of beer, which I was suppose to drink. I was disgusted. I rang up my doctor. Told him on the phone that I have a small red line along my right leg. It could be a symptome for sepsis, he told me and ordered to go next day to hospital. But me I did not suppose to go to that local hospital. I considered what I was to know good reports from Gemeinschaftskrankenhaus Herdecke, managed from anthropo-sophisticated medicines. In this hospital I spent all my hope in a soft treatment. I was not ready - under no circumstances and compromises - to spend again many weeks in hospital. To start again from nothing. Because I was sure that I had a good deal to teach rehabilitands at Berufsförderungswerk (compare my CV).

It was middle of July when my girlfriend and me sat into car - as teacher I was enable to cope having a car - and went to Herdecke. The first time in my history of treatment I had impression that doctors take me and my doom important. And not me and my symptom. They did not twinkling in the eye with their phrases on me, instead they treat me intensivly. They used the same inspection like any other medicine would also do. Used the same instruments. But they went to another conclusion like anybody else of mainstream medicines. Even they asured that there is no alternative then to agree later onto total amputation of stump. I started crying.

They listened my private stuff intensivly and accepted my conditions and awoke nice status of compromise. Because no soft treatment is possible and the infection in my body has to stop immediatly, I was pursuited to stay 5 days for antibiotic treatment. Then they would run for giving me wheel chair so that I can continue my job as teacher. But better sooner than later I was ordered to take 14 days free for operation. I did agree with it.
On Nine-Eleven 2001, at afternoon, my toe was cut and it was not that drama I was thinking of before, I was waiting with my girl friend in car (while it was raining cats and dogs) on my date of post-operation treatment at three. My girlfriends cellphone rang and as she picked up a friend was telling, that a plane was running into WTC.

My former girlfriend was originally from Poland and we often spent days in beautifull Sczcecin at her parents' nice villa next a lake and forest. We often went out for walking nature and city. We were happy, even not without problems. But what makes life worth living without any problem or challenge? I had new pair of special shoes, but again I did not noticed some bad thing. It went to a bleb again. This time it was metatarsal bone. But the treatment could not be that quick like the desease went on. On April 2003 I spent again fourteen days in Herdecke. Because of that I lost my job as teacher.

Nevertheless my other toes starting to do job ob big toe. But there is also a pressured place so that I have to take care. My local doctor emphasized cut off my rest toes, so that I should have a plain surface there. On his consultance I went to inspection University Health Center in Münster. They did not share my doctor's opinion. They said to make small cut but not to cut every toe: I should think of a date to do this operation. So I went to Herdecke. My way of thinking was to do this were it already been good. But I was not going immediatly: I finished important study exames, used wheel chair instead of making it more worth by walking per pedes.
But how I should earn money? I engaged time into my diploma-project (compare Begabungsförderung Heranwachsender im Internet). And because I did not earn money from that service, I lived from small donors and social aid. During that time I finished successfull my oral exames and wrote my final papers about supporting youth talents by elearning with focus onto PISA. After oral exames in 2004 I was sure to go for operation again. But I decided to go Herdecke and not Münster. A date in November 2004 with chief professor of surgeon department, who did operation twice with me, said after 50 minutes discussion, that operation is not necessary and told me the reason why. From that time I go once or twice a year to check that place. There are many things to do...

About my attitude to physicians in general, so I trust foreign doctors more then doctors from here (probably when they come from countries like USA, Iran, Egypt, Jordan or the Fare East) or if they are female and German it's okay with me. German males physicians are some kind of doers to me and could probably not taken serious to me. Only dentists. But with my teeth I do not have problems: I bite meat of life.

(go to professional aspects of my CV...)

©2o1o – 2o21, Dipl.-Soz. Jürgen ARNDT