“I Had to Choose to Live”: Patsy’s Long Road Back at Rush Specialty Hospital

Patsy Taylor knew something was wrong when the blister on her knee wouldn’t heal.

It wasn’t just sore. It was hard. And then, one day, metal broke through her skin.

“I took a picture and sent it to my doctor,” she said. “He told me to go straight to the emergency room.”

A week later, her leg was gone.

When Everything Narrowed to One Decision

Years earlier, Patsy had undergone knee replacement surgery. From the beginning, it never felt right. The rod inside her leg shifted when she walked, slowly damaging the surrounding bone and opening the door to infection.

Over time, her world shrank. Pain. Fatigue. Appointments. Antibiotics. More surgeries. Then compartment syndrome, when swelling built so fast inside her leg that it cut off blood flow.

“It felt like my leg was going to burst,” she said. “You could tell something wasn’t right.”

Doctors tried again. Another knee replacement. More rounds of IV antibiotics delivered at home. Wound care. Careful compliance. Her husband, Greg, was with her through it all.

Nothing worked.

When specialists at Rush University Medical Center reviewed her scans, they were direct. The infection had spread too far. To save her life, her leg would need to be amputated at the hip.

Patsy didn’t argue.

“Either the leg goes, or I go,” she thought.

Learning to Sit With What Was Lost

After surgery, the reality settled in. Patsy worried less about herself than about her grandchildren. What would they think when they saw her?

When they climbed onto her hospital bed for the first time, laughing and hugging her without hesitation, the answer was clear.

Nothing had changed.

Only days later, Patsy transferred to Rush Specialty Hospital for inpatient rehabilitation. She wasn’t convinced. She thought it was too soon. She thought it was a nursing home.

Instead, she found a team that understood the magnitude of what had just happened.

Early on, a psychologist helped her talk through the grief and fear that came with losing her leg so suddenly.

“That really helped,” Patsy said. “I could get it out instead of holding it in.”

Then she made a decision of her own.

“I can sit here and cry, or I can try to go on,” she told herself. “I made up my mind to do it.”

Rebuilding Strength and Confidence

Therapy began almost immediately. At first, even basic movements felt unfamiliar. Balance was gone. Standing felt distant.

Physical therapy focused on rebuilding core and upper-body strength, improving balance and learning how to transfer safely. Occupational therapy helped Patsy regain daily skills she wanted back — dressing, moving through her space, taking care of herself.

Her therapists pushed her, knowing the physical work was also rebuilding something deeper.

“Everything I learned — what I thought I knew — my therapists made me better at,” she said.

The culture of the hospital stood out. Nurses checked in often. Encouragement came easily, even on hard days.

“You couldn’t ask for better nurses,” Patsy said. “Everyone was so positive. It really boosted my confidence.”

Starting Over on Two Feet

After discharge, Patsy returned home to allow her surgical site to heal. Her next goal was clear: come back to Rush Specialty Hospital for the AMP Champ program, a specialized inpatient track designed to help patients learn to walk with a new prosthetic.

This time, she was ready.

“I wanted to regain my independence,” she said.

Because of the height of her amputation, Patsy’s prosthetic was complex. The specialist fitting it was honest.

“If it was any other 70-year-old, I wouldn’t even try it,” he told her. “But I think you can do this.”

Most mornings followed the same rhythm. Breakfast. Then therapy. Putting on the prosthetic took time and patience. In the parallel bars, she practiced weight shifting, balance and control.

One day, after a frustrating session, it happened. Standing, she advanced the prosthetic leg forward.

“I felt proud of myself,” she said.

When her daughters walked in and saw her upright between the bars, they stopped short.

“Oh my gosh, Mom — you’re standing.”

Moving Forward

Two weeks into AMP Champ, Patsy was walking with a walker, supported by two therapists for safety. Her gait was still developing, but her confidence was growing.

“It’s learning how to walk all over again,” she said.

Now home, Patsy continues outpatient therapy while she and Greg build a new house designed to fit her needs. Independence matters more than ever.

She approaches it all with humor. She jokes about her first pedicure — whether they’ll only charge her half. She proudly wears a shirt that reads, “I’m on my last leg!”

Friends say the Patsy they know is fully back.

More than anything, she’s grateful — for Greg, for her family and for the team that helped her rebuild.

“Rush Specialty Hospital gave me all the tools I needed,” she said. “I just can’t say enough good things.”

Her advice to others facing a similar road is simple.

“The rearview mirror is no good,” she said. “You just have to keep moving forward.”