I have a love/hate relationship with my right foot. For two years now, it has been a constant source of pain and worry.

Back in 2013 when I lost my limbs due to sepsis, there was some question as to whether we should even try to save it. The skin and tissue on all of my limbs were necrotic, but my right foot had a fair amount of healthy tissue. My surgeon was fairly confident that, if he amputated my toes and cut around the dead tissue on my heel, there would be enough foot left to support walking and even running on it. 

We have done everything possible, in hopes of closing the wound on my heel.  

In the past year alone, I've had two different surgeries. I visited a wound clinic once a week for months, I had several skin grafts made from amniotic cells, and I rested it for months at a time. To no avail.

For the most part, new and healthy skin has replaced the necrotic. But I still have a large ulcer that weeps and bleeds each day, and my foot still hurts with every step I take. For a while I just jogged, did step aerobics, and generally stomped on it anyway. Which only made matters worse.

Back then, the only argument for amputating both feet was that it would have left me balanced and "even." Sometimes I wish they would have done just that... 

It is no secret that, if we had amputated both feet, I could use two running blades instead of one; and I'd be running hard and fast by now. 

But they didn't.

I could have them amputate my right foot now. But, who wants to have a surgeon saw off their foot? I don't. Especially when I know, firsthand, how painful the surgery and recovery would be.

When I seriously consider amputating my right foot; I realize that, I love my right foot. Don't you love yours?

Recently, my surgeon, my prosthetist, the third opinion, fourth opinion, and the fifth concluded that running, aerobics, and even power-walking are no-no's for me. Anything that creates a consistent pounding on my heel is out of the question. 

If you had asked me three, five, or ten years ago, I would have told you that my life, without running, wouldn't be worth living.

I would have joked that "I'd give an arm and a leg for my Sunday morning run."

Who ever would have thought that I would literally put that assertion to the test?

What I didn't know then, I know now. I've learned that my right leg is good for many more things than just running. I love my right leg. For reasons far too many to count, far too heavy to weigh, and far too valuable to put a price on its worth. 

So, as it turns out, I would not give an arm and a leg for the ability to run. Not even one foot.