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Over the Back Fence By HANK HENRY A story of everyday courage This is about courage. There are basically two kinds of courage: One is the instantaneous kind, like jumping into a body of water to rescue someone; the other is the kind that is exhibited every day by people whose lives have been permanently changed by a major medical trauma. It would be relatively easy for people with such a problem to throw in the towel, make the bedroom and living room a fortress, and hibernate for the rest of their lives. Today I'm writing about a member of our extended family, a person who fits the definition of that second kind of courage. She is Joanne, the wife of Nora's brother, Bill. In 1964, Joanne was a typical 32-year-old homemaker with four young children. The family lives out in the country near White City. One day she discovered a hard lump in her lower abdomen. Joanne immediately called her doctor, then brought her youngest daughter to stay with Nora while she went on to his office. After the examination, he told her that she had cancer and should be operated on as soon as possible. X-rays and a biopsy showed that the pubic bone had grown up into the abdomen, and the upper right leg was riddled with cancer. The doctor made an appointment for her with a surgeon. She picked up her child at our house and drove home, fearing she might be facing a death sentence. Later, a surgeon who was one of several who would do the operation told her the damage was so extensive that they wanted to use a new procedure for removing the cancer. He said it would be the most radical operation he had ever done, and would include the removal of her entire right leg. Up until then, most people in such a drastic condition faced a shortened life span. The new technique could lengthen her life. Joanne told the surgeon, "You can cut me into little pieces, but I want to be around to raise my kids." Joanne's right leg was removed, along with the entire pelvic bone and socket. There wasn't enough left to allow the use of a prosthetic leg. Two crutches replaced the leg, and she learned to live as normal a life as possible. She even resumed her solo grocery shopping, pushing a cart in front of her. Many amputees experience phantom pains; for Joanne, it sometimes feels as if a knife is coming up into the heel of the lost leg. At other times, she feels a tingling sensation, as if it were asleep. Joanne has long been a fan of high school football, and when the four kids were in school she attended several games a year. The concrete steps at football stadiums are hard enough to climb for a person with two legs, but Joanne did the job without help. She approaches life with courage and a fine sense of humor. Once a salesman knocked on her door and when she opened it, he looked at her one leg and mumbled something. Joanne asked him what he had said, and the salesman mumbled something about her missing leg. She looked down, feigned alarm and said, "My God, it was here just a minute ago. It must be here someplace." Just then the phone rang and she went back inside to answer it. When she returned, the salesman had fled. Another time, Joanne told Nora about going to an open house at the elementary school her children attended. A little boy hurried by, saying, "Hi diddle diddle, my son John, one leg off and one leg on." She likes children, saying they are more accepting than adults. Once the whole family went to Disneyland and Bill took home movies. Back home, a bunch of little kids from around the neighborhood were invited to watch. During one scene, a little boy pointed at the screen and said, "That's Joanne!" Bill asked him, "How do you know?" The child said, "I know her dress." Another time, Nora went out to see her and found Joanne up on a table, balanced without a crutch, and washing the ceiling. Then there was the time that Joanne called Nora and said, "I've figured out why I am so tired all the time. I've got one foot in the grave." Humor, you bet, but she has a way of showing the rest of us how to live -- in other words, courage. (Hank Henry is a retired Jackson County commissioner and a former radio and television announcer. Call him at 772-9055.) Prime Times front page Mail Tribune front page Copyright � The Mail Tribune 1999, Medford, Oregon USA