Thank you for checking out my site. This is mainly a memory dump of my life, and all the crap that goes with it. As I’m not one to post every aspect of my life, although there were times when I actually took a photo of my food and posted it on Facebook. This is something you will only see on my personal site and no place else as I don’t see the need to post every aspect of my life on Facebook for everyone to read.
But here is fine. 🙂
Just who the heck am I?
My name is Thomas (Tom) Kirby, and I am 63.
I was married in August, 1993.
I am a widower as of 2015.
I have many health problems that all started with a doctor botching a simple operation in December of 1993 called a laparoscopic cholosisectomy (also known as removing my gall bladder using a laproscope).
Prior to him doing this procedure, he performed what is called an an ERCP (endoscopic retrograde cholangiopancreatography) where they put a tube up my nose to access my gal bladder. The first one yielded nothing useful, and they wanted to do another one. I’m the meantime my wife seeked a second opinion, which turned out saved my life, as the second doctor told us that a second ERCP in my condition could have killed me. My wife took me from my hospital bed, IV’s still in my arm, loaded me into it car, and drove me to another hospital across town. There, I spent many weeks (from December 8, to January 28th) hospitalized.
In the course of removing my gall bladder, he somehow managed to knick my pancreas with the scalpel, This resulted me getting pancreatitis, and for the next YEAR (1994) I was out of commission. I wouldn’t wish pancreatitis on anyone. I couldn’t eat anything, and only consumed something called TPN fluid. It was a fluid that looked like milk, but was administered VIA an PICC (Peripherally Inserted Central Catheter) line that was put into my vein. and over a 2 year period, I becoming a type 2 (insulin dependent) diabetic.
When I was in California, my insurance was Kaiser Permanente. To some, saying those words together sends shivers down some peoples spines. Back in the 90’s, as expected, my feet were starting to show signs of diabetes catching up to me, and as a result, in 2019 I wound up with an ulcer on my foot that would not heal. It started in the side of my right foot, and went around to the sole, part way around.
When I broke my 5th metatarsal (the bone in my foot that connects my pinkie toe to my foot) the first time, this was the first time I encountered Kaiser podiatry .
They had a choice. To put my foot in a cast, (AKA he cheap way out) or to perform surgery to put a pin in my toe. They opted to put my foot in a cast, a decision that would first cause my 5th metatarsal to heal wrong, making my foot look deformed. But then when the 5th metatarsal broke on my left foot, they used the same cast method on that foot that caused my left foot to heal wrong as well. On the bright side, I at least had a matching pair, I guess…
This is where the second Kaiser podiatrist came into the picture.
Years later, I had a bad ulcer on my right foot, (I’d show it here, but I know how people can get triggered) and my podiatrist thought it best to wait 6 weeks between appointments. I never gave it a second thought, assuming she knew what she was doing, and what wound up happening was one by one the bones in my feet started to break. First, the 5th metatarsal, (the pinkie toe), then the 4th metatarsal. That’s when she told me that the bone in the 4th and 5th metatarsals were infected, and after she discussed it with four other doctors, they thought the best course of action was to amputate my right leg below the knee. And she told me this like she was ordering lunch, completely emotionless, and without any empathy of any kind. And of course it had to happen soon, because if the infection spread further, it could mean the difference between a below the knee amputation or an above the knee amputation.
Did waiting 6 weeks between appointments have anything to do with this outcome? That’s anyone guess. Ironically, I had a great podiatrist when I came back to New Jersey that looked at the photo of my foot and he was confident he could have healed me, and I believed him whole heartedly. Too bad I had my leg amputated 4 years prior. 🙂
So on June 17th, 2020 smack dab in the middle of the pandemic, I had my right leg amputated below the knee, and that was the beginning of a new part of my life. The one that started off spending over a year confined to a wheelchair as my leg (now half a leg) started healing. I have a photo of that the day after the procedure, and I might post that, but I don’t want anyone getting triggered. :). To be honest, it was so swollen it looked more like a hoof than the end of someone’s leg.
Needless to say, my leg was VERY aggravated, and it took many months for the swelling to go down before they would even consider trying to fit me for a prosthetic leg.
Those were tough times, but there was one family that made it all bearable. The Stegmeiers took me in, and Andrea helped me get to all my doctor’s appointments, as well as opened their house to me, fed me, and gave me a place to stay. I can never thank them enough.
When I was living in California, I had a motorcycle that I loved riding (unlike Jersey where the weather usually always sucks, or if it’s nice, you have to pay for it with a week of rain), and I came to the realization that riding my motorcycle was out of the question, so reluctantly on 7/11/2020 (a couple weeks after my leg amputation), I sold my baby. It was one of the hardest things I’ve had to do because in my heart I still wanted to ride, but I knew at that time it just wasn’t in the cards. On a good note, I sold it to someone that I know would love it and ride its wheels off.
More on that later…
The problem with living with diabetes (while showing no symptoms) made it hard to manage for me. High blood sugar never became an issue with me until I started becoming symptomatic, and it being in my face all the time now, I started taking it seriously. Needless to say that was too late.
It took about 20 years, but in March of 2020 (again, smack dab in the middle of the pandemic), my kidneys called it quits, so I went on dialysis. I opted for Peritoneal Diaysis (PD), which I did every day for 11 hours.
11 hours.
Every.
Single.
Day.
I guess that beats the alternative…. So far.
LOSING FEELING IN MY LOWER LEGS AND FOOT:
Other things one can look forward to with diabetes is Diabetic Neuropathy. Eventually you lose most of the feeling in your lower extremities, (AKA your feet, (in my case a foot (singular)) making it very hard to drive goofy foot (using your left foot to control the accelerator and brake petals on a car), so I had to get rods where one connects to the brake pedal, and the other one to the accelerator pedal. and I manipulate them with my hands instead of my foot. It works ok, but I wouldn’t recommend hard braking using your hands as that’s not very reliable. They took a little getting used to, but over time, I got the hang of them.
LOSING MY EYESIGHT:
For all practical purposes, my left eye is on its last legs. Currently, I see double out of it, and it used to be my good eye as my right eye has been known to bleed, and when it does, I can’t see out of it at all for up to a month. God willing, it has not bled in a while, but as of now, if it does, I will be almost blind, and certainly will be unable to drive anything. I hope that never happens as I don’t want to be a burden to anyone, especially my mom. turns out from what I can gather, I need cataract surgery in my left eye. I had my right eye done a few years ago, but now my left eye needs to have it done. Currently, I can no longer drive at night, as headlamps (especially idiots that use their high beams all the time) make me completely blind.
A CHANGE IN DIALYSIS:
On May 1st, 2025 I had a port installed by my shoulder for hemodialysis, something I always tried to avoid, but now there was no choice. Being perfectly, honest, It was a blessing in disguise. Instead of being chained to a machine for 11 hours a day, every day, my dialysis went to three times a week for four hours. That to me was a freedom I haven’t felt in the last five years. Now I actually have two whole days in a row I can go do things, and not have to worry about having to get dialysis. The port in my shoulder is considered temporary, and after things settled down, I would need to get a fistula put in my arm.
Towards the end of march 2025 I developed peritonitis. Not sure how, but I had it all the same. This time, it caused my PD catheter to clog, so PD dialysis was no longer an option, but I still needed dialysis.
July 11th 2025 was that day, and I have to admit, I was scared of what they were about to do. I deliberately avoided reading up on the procedure for fear of knowing too much about it. Personally, I have no issues with needles, as I’ve been poking myself with insulin needles for decades, but something I have no control over, combined with my bad luck streak with doctors had me a little worried. I’m happy to say it was all for nothing. It was minimally invasive with a tiny scar.
IT TOOK FOUR YEARS BUT…
I finally got another motorcycle. It took me four years to convince myself I could handle it again, as I never liked small bikes. In California, I had a Kawasaki American Classic, 1500cc with saddle bags, fearing, the works. I wanted the same bike again, so when I had the money together, (as well as the stones! 🙂 I started looking, and I found the same bike I had in California, just a year older (2003) in Allentown, PA, so I went to look at it, and wound up buying it. Luckily for me my right foot was amputated, so it was easier to operate the brake lever with my prosthetic leg, and I could shift with my “good” leg. You don’t have to pull up on the shifter with this bike, so even if I lost my other leg, I could still ride as a bilateral (both legs amputated) amputee. Life’s little victories. 🙂
I know I got the motorcycle bug from my Dad, who rode a fully dressed Honda Gold Wing just about every day, no matter the weather. He loved to ride. He also had diabetes, and lost his left leg, so he had a shift kit put on the bike and kept riding. Then he lost his right leg from diabetes, and did he stop riding? Not a chance! He went and had his Gold Wing converted into a trike, and kept on riding. He rode right up until a little while before pancreatic cancer took him from us. He passed on October 7th 2014 at 80 years and two weeks of age. I never got to ride with you dad, something I regret every day. I miss you as much as I love you.
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