I had my right middle toe amputated. I've known for 50 years that this could happen, and now it has. I went in with the same feeling in my stomach that I had when Mrs. Hamry sent me to the principal's office to be strapped in grade 4. However, it was all so matter-of-fact that I didn't feel afraid, or feel anything while the ten minute procedure was happening. When I saw the doctor put my toe in a jar, I said, "Wait! Wait! I've changed my mind."
He said, "Ya want me to put it back on? Too late." And we all had a chuckle. I walked out of the clinic 20 minutes after I came in. I haven't had any pain, so far, and considering the reduced feeling in my feet due to diabetic neuropathy, I may not have much pain. I walked out of the clinic unassisted. The doc says I can move about a bit after today, and by Monday I should be able to walk distances up to a kilometre.
I feel oddly calm. I think I'm OK with this, and there's nothing I can do to change it. I hope this will be the end of this particular problem, but I still have nine toes, on two feet, and two legs.
OK so far.