06/04/2026
Today marks an important milestone in my journey as an amputee.
On December 9, 2022, my life changed forever when I underwent a right below-the-knee amputation following a severe, life-threatening infection. Today, after months of fittings, adjustments, setbacks, and perseverance, I am receiving the final fitting for my newest prosthetic leg.
Many people don't realize that the process of becoming an amputee doesn't end with surgery. In many ways, that's where the journey truly begins.
Most amputees cannot be fitted for a prosthetic until their surgical incision has healed, typically four to six weeks after amputation. Once cleared by their surgeon, they are referred to a prosthetistāa specialist who designs, customizes, and fits a prosthetic limb based on each patient's unique anatomy, mobility goals, and lifestyle.
I was cleared for my first prosthetic in January 2023. Because of the severity of my infection, my residual limb is shorter than average, making the fitting process a little more complex. Initially, I was fitted with a temporary prosthesis. As swelling decreased and my limb changed shape over time, I eventually transitioned into what is called a "destination" prosthesis.
Most prosthetic limbs require replacement every few years due to wear and tear. As an active physician, entrepreneur, mother, traveler, and community member, I had reached the point where a new prosthetic was necessary. After relocating to Texas, I had to establish care with a new prosthetist and begin the fitting process again.
The journey has not been without challenges.
One prototype prosthetic actually shattered while I was walking through my house one evening, causing me to fall. Thankfully, I wasn't seriously injured, but it meant going back to the drawing board and redesigning the device. What was expected to be a relatively straightforward process became months of trial, error, adjustments, and patience.
Today, however, I am receiving a prosthetic that better fits my needsāa hybrid suction and pin system designed specifically for my anatomy and activity level.
Even more exciting, I am graduating from a K2 prosthetic foot to a K3 foot.
For those unfamiliar with prosthetic classifications, a K3 designation recognizes an individual's ability to ambulate with variable cadence and navigate community environments more effectively. This new foot allows for greater stability and mobility on uneven terrain, including improved inversion, eversion, and other movements that help create a more natural walking experience.
What that means for me is greater freedom.
Freedom to travel farther.
Freedom to navigate uneven surfaces more safely.
Freedom to garden with greater confidence.
Freedom to participate in activities that I have either limited or approached cautiously because of the risk of falls.
Freedom to continue rebuilding a life that looks different than the one I had beforeābut is no less meaningful.
Many amputees undergo extensive physical and occupational therapy after receiving a prosthetic. Due to circumstances surrounding my employment and insurance at the time, I was unable to participate in formal prosthetic training. Instead, I learned much of it on my own.
I had to relearn activities many people take for grantedādressing, bathing, driving, navigating stairs, traveling, and simply moving through the world safely and confidently. What I discovered is something I believe applies to all of us:
Human beings are remarkably resilient.
We adapt.
We accommodate.
We learn.
We overcome.
And we find new ways forward.
What many people don't realize is that walking as a below-the-knee amputee requires approximately 25% more energy than walking with two biological limbs. For above-the-knee amputees, energy expenditure can increase by as much as 50%.
Over time, I've become stronger physically than I ever imagined. I've developed balance, endurance, upper-body strength, and problem-solving skills that I never expected to gain. More importantly, I've developed a deeper appreciation for every step I take.
When I first lost my leg, there were many uncertainties. Would I be able to continue practicing medicine? Would I be able to travel? Would I be able to live independently? Would I be able to continue pursuing the goals and dreams I had for my life?
The answer, thankfully, has been yes.
Not because the journey was easy.
Not because there weren't setbacks.
Not because there weren't moments of frustration, grief, fear, or exhaustion.
But because resilience is built one decision at a time.
One step at a time.
One adaptation at a time.
Today, this new prosthetic represents more than a piece of medical equipment.
It represents freedom.
It represents possibility.
It represents independence.
It represents progress.
And it represents the next chapter of a life that refused to stop moving forward.
If you are facing a disability, illness, loss, career setback, personal challenge, or season of uncertainty, I hope this story reminds you that you are not alone.
There may be obstacles.
There may be setbacks.
There may be moments when you have to start over.
But there are also solutions.
There is adaptation.
There is resilience.
And there is always the possibility of a new beginning.
Today, I celebrate not just a new prosthetic, but the next chapter of my journey.
The fire may have changed my path, but it never diminished my purpose.
