My leg Breathes
It was genetic. A fate that I carried for 9 years. Last December, God answered my prayer and took it away from me.
Varicose vein happens when the valve that prevents the backflow of blood stops working. In my case, the right leg valve.
It was during the last months of my primary years the vein began to bulge. However at that time I thought it was the normal bulge that any fat kid would have.
The bulging became more apparent in my first year of high school. The sudden increased in weight may have contributed its accelerated growth. My mom brought me to a GP and I was told to wear a pressure stocking. (Apparently at that time the size wasn’t large enough to raise a need for surgery)
Not until my third year that my other aunt, a junior cardiologist seen the increasing bulge and told me that it was possible to remove it through surgery.A welcoming news to a teenager who loves short pant. So there I was meeting my first specialist, Dr. Tang. He was the most unfriendly doctor I ever encountered in my life. Hoping for a surgery what I got was more appointment. After my third appointment (The time between appointments kept increasing that lasted almost a year) with him, seeing no progress at all, I decided to stop seeing him and continue my life with pressure stocking.
During my pious years (4-5), I came to a conclusion that the varicose vein was there as a result of my sin: wearing short pant. In Islam, a man is not allowed to show his body parts between the belly button and the knee. I violated the rule. With my extreme religious faith, I hoped for a miracle: An overnight disappearance of the varicose vein. After meeting a gnostic, that very thought was laughable.
When I went back to Brunei last summer, my dad insisted that I should resumed my appointment. It was not the first time he nagged me about it. It’s just I always procrastinate (that goes for everything else).
It was only a month before my flight back to UK that I had my appointment. I told the doctor about my flight he suggested that I should come back in December for the surgery. Obviously that didn’t happened.
In UK, I met a local GP and she referred me to Birmingham University Hospital. It was the best thing that happened in my life. Had I followed Amal for the trip I wouldn’t be able to go for surgery. Believe me when I said the waiting time could take up to years. Thank Lord mine was only 3 months.
The surgery was painfully bearable. I remember how it felt when the vein was removed from my leg. Felt like someone pinching me out of extreme anger. Post surgery was also painful. I could barely walked straight. When I stood, I could feel the movement of blood towards my feet, comparable to cram of one whole leg.
Today (22/04/09, 12.30 pm) I was discharged@no more appointments, and allowed to live a life without stocking. It felt weird without the stocking on. 9 years …Its like some part of me is missing. I do believe I will get over it soon. With that aside, the first thing I do when I reach home is to show my new leg to my parent. Without them, none of this is even possible.
Present day
I have this great idea in my head. I’ll post it as soon as that idea manifest. It involves a friend living along Bristol road. You need to wait for future posts for you to find out what it is.
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