Seminal Moments

We all have them – those points in our lives that we consider in hindsight and go ‘wow, my life would have been completely different had I not…’

One from my recent past that comes to mind is the day I walked into my first Ashtanga Yoga Mysore class taught by Jeff and Harmony Lichty.

Hindsight, as they say, is 20/20. To be clear, I had no idea what I was getting into.

What led me to yoga was years of hip pain. Years of experience clouding, constant, hip pain. I had tried everything – chiropractic, massage therapy, active release, acupuncture. All modalities alleviated my discomfort to some degree but the relief was always transient. There had been times when I was having something done to my hips two or three days a week just to keep the discomfort manageable.

When I moved to Calgary in 2007 I had limited health insurance through the university and therefore I knew that any treatment I pursued was going to be paid for mostly out of pocket.  And I was tired of spending my time going back and forth to appointments. I had begun to think about what was going to happen to my hips as I got older and figured it was time to try something else.

At the time I had barely dabbled in any kind of yoga. I had followed a couple of DVDs, been to maybe a couple of led classes, but that had been it. I did what everyone does in this day and age when I moved to Calgary – I consulted the Internet and found Yoga Shala Calgary. I read a little bit about Mysore style yoga, looked at the schedule and thought ‘Oh, that will work. Classes are in the morning so I can go to the gym and study in the afternoon.’

So one morning in September 2007 I walked into Yoga Shala Calgary and met Jeff and Harmony. At that point they were teaching in Calgary having returned from another stint in India and both had been authorized by Shri K Pattabhi Jois.

My earliest impression of them was that they did not see my prosthetic as something to overcome, they just saw what was possible. That first day they asked for a show and tell and were enthusiastic and excited about the fact that I had come in. I did not get a whiff of uncertainty or hesitation from either of them, and that is an approach to teaching and learning that I think many would say they try to adopt but few really achieve. And so I started going.

It took some time, as I think it probably does for most, to incorporate my yoga practice into my routine but after a few months I was pretty regular. And I can remember when the hip pain really started to change. Toward the end of 2008 I spent a month in Goa practicing with Jeff and Harmony. Before travelling to Goa I had been in Sri Lanka for two months conducting research as part of my PhD. Prior to that time, a three-month stretch with no treatment on my hips would have left me in agony. But for the first time in years I wasn’t. I practiced close-to-daily on my own in Sri Lanka and then six days a week in Goa and I was hip-pain free.

I still have flair ups from time to time, but they are very seldom and nothing like they used to be. And while the lack of hip pain has been life changing and truly a blessing, yoga has also brought many wonderful experiences and connections to my life.

Function / Form

Kate changes dressing_1 © Cathie Coward

As you can see in the picture above, I do not have what you might call a ‘normal’ amputation.

I was diagnosed with Ewing’s sarcoma at the age of 11, when a tumour was found at the end of my left femur – the long bone of my thigh – in the growth plate closest to my knee. Soon after diagnosis I started chemotherapy, and was given the ‘choice’ between a joint replacement and an amputation. Specifically, a rotationplasty.

A rotationplasty is a salvage procedure that is done to save two joints, and leave the patient with a functional knee. Essentially, two incisions are made, in my case one high on the thigh and one just below the knee. The middle bit gets discarded, and the calf and ankle are rotated 180 degrees and reattached so that the ankle becomes a functioning knee.

Even now, I look at this picture and go ‘Man, that does look weird’. And it does – it still looks weird even to me, and I’ve had 20 years to adjust.

But, I’ll tell you what: It is functional. Because the foot is a naturally weight-bearing part of the body, I can wear my leg for 20 hours without issue. I’ve hiked up mountains. I’ve biked up mountains. I can stand for as long as I need to. I can surf and climb and practice yoga. And work as I need to.

When I had to make the choice between knee replacement and rotationplasty – at the ripe, old age of 11 years* – it was surprisingly easy. Shortly after I was diagnosed, I happened to share a hospital room with a girl who’d had a bone tumour in her knee. Following joint replacement, she was back in for yet another surgery. When you undergo this kind of intervention at a young age, by necessity they remove the growth plates around your knee. As a result, the affected limb grows much more slowly. This young woman was back in hospital to have her long leg shortened and her short leg lengthened… again. I could see she had difficulty walking, and that her shoes had to be markedly different heights to accommodate her leg length difference.  Around the same time, I met a young man with a rotationplasty whose family my mom had contacted through a local charitable organization. He had needed no additional surgeries, and was cycling and playing baseball regularly. Though I was only a couple of months into chemotherapy I’d had my fill of hospitals. The choice seemed obvious – I wanted function over form.

But, it’s not that simple for everyone. I recently met a mother whose daughter has a congenital condition that might best be treated with a rotationplasty. Her alternative is to leave the limb as it is. When I met this mother – I did not meet the daughter who was not yet three – I was quick to tell her how able I was, how functional I was, how happy I was with the outcome, and how I wouldn’t change a thing. Her questions focused around skirts and boys.

 
*The G. Gordon Liddy offering of “I’ll break your legs or steal your girlfriend – your choice, Mister”