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June 9, 2006

Standing on TWO Feet Again - Taking That Very First Step!

August 08, 2008 10:06 AM EDT

views: 232 | rating: 9.8/10 (66 votes) | comments: 91

I wish I could have started this out, 'Standing on my own two feet again', but only one of them is really mine. The other one is just a 'loaner'; an artificial appendage. I get to keep it...and use it and it will play a major role in my life. A whirlwind of experiences is about to be added to.
As the old year came to a close and a new one began, I developed what I thought was a small problem with my right heel. By February, things has escalated to an emergency situation and I found myself on 'vacation' at Strong Memorial Hospital for the next couple of months. The decision was made in early March that my leg had to come off...in order to save my life. The gangrene had become too advanced and I faced the risk of death if something weren't done soon. Chop! I was placed in an intense, advanced therapy program and flew through with flying colors from a lot of hard work.

Upon my return home, I fell outside my apartment door; didn't even make it inside; and exploded my nub wide open. Within half an hour, 9-1-1 had me on my way back to the hospital I had just left and furthur amputation would have to be performed. When I was turned loose for good, I was free yet trapped; confined by a body with only one leg to get around and no help in sight. No program was put together as to what I would do. I was on my own, left all alone, to fend and adapt for myself. It was do or die. Another fall; cowering in the safety of my home; a revelation. Get out there and just do it. Having no choice, that's what I did. I began a daily routine of therapy which included getting outside at least once and take my crutches for a walk.
120 days, 4 months later, I continue to go strong and grow stronger. I've felt the warmth of accomplishment and the joy of success. What, at first, I thought was the end of the world, became a new beginning on life. I taught myself different ways to do the things I already did. There's more than one way to skin a cat. I progressed and some of my techniques eveloved into simpler ways once I worked at them.

There were only a couple tasks I couldn't do. It wasn't that I couldn't lift heavy objects; it was just my balance being thrown off once I had them hoisted...not to mention I needed my hands for my crutches to be able to walk once I had those items picked up. I did my best at doing what I could and there wasn't much I couldn't do. I'd find myself smiling with pride for overcoming the various obstacles that tried to stand in my way. I proved to be too much of a match for them.
Eventually, my insurance fell into place and I was able to start taking the medicines I needed, which I had gone over a month without. After several cancellations, I made it to the doctors who sought to treat me.

I obtained transporation to appointments and learned how to hop to bus to the supermarket to buy a few groceries...one bag at a time. I broke through to my best friend in accepting me like I am and realizing I'm the same person I was before. As a matter of fact, I had turned into an even better guy than 'Rob PA'...pre-amputation.
The days...and weeks...and months passed. Milestones came and went. 'Records' would fall. What was bad news, when you look at the whole picture, was being broken down with bits and pieces of good news for a change. I went from using my butt to go up and down stairs to standing and making the trip on my crutches. From hobbling across the street to a small convenience store for food, I began to go to a full-fledged grocery store. Instead of short trips back and forth across the street, I could now make it up and down the street and go a couple of blocks. Those once a day walks eventually turned into, sometimes, two or three trips outside to take care of business.

Endurance has also fallen by the wayside with my recent 3 1/2 hour, 2.2 mile trek on crutches...no breaks to sit down and rest.
I've crossed paths with some good people along the way. On Gather, I have those who really care about a stranger with his back up against the wall. When I found myself caught in a corner, you gave encouragement to come out fighting...and that's just what I did. I fought my hardest bound and determined to win. I was declared an excellent candidate to receive a prosthetic leg. Not just your average artificial limb. Because of the hard work I strove to accomplish, I would be getting a more advanced leg to allow me to continue my routine; the ankle would have more mobility and there would be more flex in the foot. I could run with it...if I were a runner. I'm fine with just learned how to walk again.
The process began with pokes and proddings and shrinking my nub to work with my new apparatus. I was measured to have a custom made cup for the nub to slip into with the leg and foot attached. My cup, along with a temporary rod and 'foot' connected, was in...and the time had come. I went to the prosthetic specialist for a try-on. No run of the mill group of doctors for me. Only the best will do. The University of Rochester Medical Center - Strong Memorial Hospital Rehabilitation Center - Room #6 - In-House Therapy. I'm a big guy at 6'4 but I felt like Gulliver on one of his travels.

This place looked like the training facility for the Olympic Munchkin Gymnastics team. All of the equipment was miniature. Luckily, the heigth on the parallel bars can be adjusted.
My rubber sleeve was rolled onto my nub and the cup forced on...a little snug.

I was asked how it felt. How am I supposed to know how it's supposed to feel. Not like I'm fitted for a peg leg every day. No pain; no sensation of rubbing. It's fine with me. I was told to stand up using the parallel bars but not to put any weight on the articial leg at all. What do I have it for if I can't use it? It was just so I could feel what it's like to have the weight of the rest of the leg on that side again. I was told to slowly put weight down on the right leg. The point of pressure was no longer in my foot and ankle. It was now in my knee. How does it feel? Weird...very weird. Alright, let go of the bars.
My crutches are over there; propped up against the wall. I'm letting go now. My hands are almost letting go. I don't want to let go! I'm scared and excited at the same time.

What if I just tip over, like in a cartoon, and land flat on my face? What if I fall over and the only thing left standing is my new leg? What if you don't try and never know the feeling of walking again? I'm ready...let's go for it! I gingerly loosen my grip on the bars...and I let go. I raise my arms...and I'm standing! Hey, look, ma...no hands!!! No hands, no crutches, no walker, nobody hanging onto me. I'm standing!

If this isn't a 'Kodak' moment; I don't know what is. Hang on. I need to get a self-picture, of me looking down, as I'm standing up...on my own.
Now, hold onto the bars again and take a couple steps. They needed to check the mobility of the knee and mark off trouble spots to remove excess material. I want this to be a comfortable device even more than they want. I was told to turn around and stand still...and let go of the bars again. I've done this before...piece of cake. I raise my hands and stand there. Now, walk back to your chair. I went to place my hands back on the bars but was told 'No hands!' The entire wall was mirror and I turned and looked myself square in the eyes.

I was ready to burst. Here goes nothing. I turned my head back and took a step, swinging the artificial leg forward. I put pressure down on it, 'stood' and took the next step with my real leg...and repeated once before I was at my seat. HOLY SH*T! Look at this! I'm walking!!! I'm actually walking!

I needed to concentrate on turning around and sitting down, so I had something to take my mind off the fact my eyes were moist and ready to start flowing and I wasn't crying when I turned back around. It didn't work.
I couldn't believe it. What once seemed like an eternity away, if it were to ever happen at all, has now become a reality. Helplessness and hopelessness turned into goals and dreams. I went from feeling shock and horror to acceptance and dedication. Whatever type of life I was being handed, I wanted to make the most of it because I'll never have as long as I want. My wake up call had rung through loud and clear. I knew I was already on borrowed time and should have died a couple times prior. This brush with death had the most severe consequences...and they're only to keep getting worse from here on out. Now's the time to live...live like there may be no tomorrow, as tomorrow may never come.
I've adapted. I've survived. There's been a touch of help, but I've done it on my own for the most part. I've figured out a way to live that works for me and I've run with it. Many have said they couldn't do it if they were in my shoe. I said the same thing before it happened to me. You'd be surprised how fast you can come around once you put you mind to it and the shoe is on the other foot; the only foot you have. You have to put your best foot forward because it's the only one you've got. I have not only done it figuratively; now I have done it literally, as well. I put my best foot forward...followed by my second best foot...followed by my real foot again...and then the artificial one. I have taken yet another step on my road to recovery. I have walked!

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