Rodney's Story: Living With Limb Loss

Last summer, a foot cut that wouldn't heal—a hazard for diabetics—set off a cascade of infections, surgeries, progressive deterioration. When his ex-wife, Danielle, and 20-year-old son came to pick him up for a birthday dinner in late August, they found him passed out at home and called an ambulance. A few days later, after four surgeries in as many days, his podiatrist broke the news: “It's your leg or your life,” he said. Rodney’s decision was clear: "Let's do the surgery."

After the below-knee amputation and acute recovery in Montefiore New Rochelle Hospital, Rodney headed, at the recommendation of friends, to Burke Rehabilitation Hospital. As soon as he arrived, he loved everything about the place: the welcome from the medical staff, the high standards of the therapy team, the vegan meals ordered fresh from a daily menu, and weekly pet therapy for a lifelong dog lover.

“Despite the loss of his limb and a significant adjustment to a new way of life, he remained upbeat, hopeful, and determined to regain his independence and quality of life,” noted Malav Shah, M.D., Director of Inpatient Orthopedic and Limb Loss Rehabilitation Medicine and Associate Program Director of the PM&R Residency Program at Burke Rehabilitation Hospital.

Dr. Shah, says Rodney, came to see him every day—something that motivated him and helped fuel his recovery. On a scale of 1 to 10 for bedside manner, Rodney rates Dr. Shah “a 20.”

With great affection and pride, Rodney describes his therapists as "a little militant." They pushed him hard, and their rigorous standards set him up for success long after he left Burke. He even jokes that Burke patients are superheroes and the rehabilitation hospital is like the Charles Xavier Home for Gifted Youngsters, the fictional “X-Mansion” (based in Westchester!) where superheroes are trained in the X-Men Marvel series.

Setting—and Resetting—Goals

From the start, the Burke team asked Rodney what his goals were. This turned out to be the right question. "At different stages, I had different goals," he says. In the wheelchair, he was fixated on getting his prosthetic. When he finally received it—on a Friday, the week before Thanksgiving—he was walking by Saturday, discharged Monday, and in his restaurant Thanksgiving Thursday celebrating with about a hundred friends and family. It had all happened so fast, he marveled. "I was back to who I wanted to be.”

Once he was up and walking, he wanted to run. In January, Rodney told his physical therapist, that he hoped to run by summer. "I'll have you running by next week," the therapist said. By that Thursday, Rodney was on a treadmill—running. Soon, he signed up for Burke's Heels & Wheels 5K in April. It felt a little soon, but he signed up anyway. "I'm not sure we control our goals," he says. "I think sometimes our goals control us."

When he announced the 5K, friends started volunteering to run with him, train with him show up at the race, and donated to Burke. His mother, who can't run, is driving in to cheer. A former high school football teammate made a donation. His support group named itself the Resilient Rodneys and has a logo and t-shirts. "This is bigger than me," Rodney says. "That's a little hard to wrap my head around."

He’s experienced this groundswell of community at every step in his rehab journey, beginning with a roomful of visitors in the New Rochelle Hospital and including his son and his ex-wife, whom he calls “the MVP of the whole journey.”

“As an amputee, your community is everything,” Rodney says. He had friends and family coming in from as far away as Baltimore and South Carolina, Buffalo and Vermont, as well as locally, to visit and support him, and to pack up his room and drive him home after discharge.

The goals keep coming. Inspired by his son, he's writing a children's book about his experience. He's looking to open more restaurants. He plays jazz saxophone and is determined to start a band (he’s already been calling recording studios). He envisions a quartet of musicians who, like him, are living with limb loss. The working title: Silver Keys, An Adaptive Band.

For Rodney, his rehabilitation journey is not about what he has lost—but everything he has gained. "Life Part 2, after the amputation," says Rodney, who’s just turned 60, "is better for me than Life Part 1 was."

To connect with others living with limb loss, see Burke’s Amputee Support Group