A little something.

One step at a time.

In the state that the world is right now, it’s hard to find some inspiration when you need it. It is something that you know is there, but it’s very eluding. I speak from experience, mine came from my husband. He sat down and told me that he had been thinking, and he was really sad that I stopped trying to walk. He was watching me give up. Except, I didn’t only give up on walking, I gave up trying to be happy. I had no social life, I only left the house if I had a doctor’s appointment or I needed to go to the grocery. It lasted ten years. I wouldn’t leave the house for months at a time. Talk about the feeling of the walls caving in on me, they were. It does nothing but make you feel even worse about yourself and your life. I had sunk into the worst depression I had ever been in. And it all started when my leg had to be amputated. 

Anyhow, back to the story. We had sat up an entire night talking about what we individually needed from each other. A regular thing that we do even if there isn’t anything we really need to hash out. Putting everything on the table we talked our way through it one thing at a time. He took that time to let me know just how I gave up walking was affecting him. In the process of taking on that elephant in the room, he asked me if I was willing to try one more time. For him, just try. He wouldn’t think anything of it if I couldn’t, he just wanted the try.

At first, I was reluctant. I didn’t want to fail and I was convinced that I would make a mockery of myself. I had already set myself up for failure before I even started. It had been about 5 years since I even had a prosthetic made. However, I was fifty pounds heavier then as well. I didn’t even know where it was, I asked my husband if he knew where it was, and without saying a word he disappeared out of the room. A few seconds later he comes back in toting my leg. My next question was if he knew where my backpack was that had all my socks, and other things I needed to wear it. Again, he knew exactly where it was. He told me that he always kept track of it just in case I would want to try to wear it and walk. That he always has had the hope that one day it would become something I wanted to do.

So the next day, I pulled out everything that I needed to wear my leg and I put it on. It was something that I hadn’t done since shortly after I got it. The socket was a prototype and I was basically a test subject. It didn’t take long of me wearing it that I discovered that pretty much everything about that socket was wrong for me. It is possible that that same socket would be wonderful for someone else but for a female with Cerebral Palsy, for me it just didn’t work. Being totally honest, things got pinched that should not be pinched and things rubbed that made it very painful for me to take more than a few steps before I would have to stop. But, I was trying again for my husband.

I spent about a week just wearing the leg and getting used to the weight. That sucker was very heavy and extremely bulky. Even wearing it without weight bearing on it, there were things hurting badly. Fast forward a little to trying to walk. Even with a thirty ply sock count, it would drop off in the middle of the step. Either causing me to fall or whoever was walking beside me had to catch me before I hit the floor. But no matter what I tried, it never worked. I didn’t progress any further than using a walker.

By this time, my stubbornness kicked in and I was determined to keep going. I was doing this for someone I dearly love. I wasn’t going to give up easy. I gave Hanger a call and made an appointment. They had made other prosthetics for me in the past and that included the very first one I had. The only one I was able to walk in. I was still below knee then. I have not been able to walk at all in a prosthetic since having to go above knee with the amputation. But, they were the best, and the only ones that got me even close to a workable prosthetic. To be clear, I believe the problem wasn’t Hanger. I think it had everything to do with my depression and giving up.

Going into my first appointment that was only a consultation, they had me put on the leg that I had, the huge socket and the simple mechanical knee. About five steps later, not only did I dread the next step because of the pain, when I rolled over the foot to take the next step the leg hit the floor. A few measurements later, I was told that it was seriously too big for my leg, and the knee it had I had outgrown. It was moving much slower than I was. So thirteen years of not walking, I learned I was too advanced for the knee that was on it. That’s wild right? Who knew?

The process began then at that very moment to get me up out of the chair that was destroying my back, hips, shoulders, elbows and wrists simply by going to point a to point b in daily life. This was about May of 2022. We started the test socket and decided on the hydraulic knee. But also that was when I got the bad news as well. With my insurance that only cover eighty percent of the entire system. I had to come up with a little over four thousand dollars to pay for it before it could be delivered. That doesn’t seem like a lot except as a family we just didn’t have it. I had no idea how to get it either. I left that appointment so defeated its indescribable and it happened right in front of my nine year old grandson. Everything was on pause from that moment.

Fast forward again, it brings us to June of 2023 and I was trying to get my only asset ( a nineteen passenger metro bus) running so I can sell it for enough to pay for the leg. It was just not going our way, in any fashion. We would get one step forward and get knocked back ten. In August, my husband was under the bus working on a few things with the engine when the jack gave way and the eight ton bus fell on him. His chest was crushed, lungs were badly bruised. His sternum was broken, and he had ten broken ribs. The entire left side of his face was smashed as well. He turned his head to look at something right when the bus fell. Otherwise I believe he would have died instantly. The idea of getting the bus running so I can sell it went right out the window. I was very thankful that my husband was alive and he was going to recover with time. My leg was put on the back burner once again since the accident.

That gets us to October. I called Hanger again to start the process over so at least we can have it mostly done before I had to have the money. Just so happen, there was a flyer on the wall that I took a picture of. I planned on writing an email to see if there were any resources that I could utilize to maybe get a portion of the four thousand paid for, any help at that point would be great. When I got home, I pulled up the website and I wrote my email. I explained the situation and explained where we were at with the socket and knee system. The next day, I got a reply from a lady named Denise. She wanted me to fill out a short questionnaire and she had a few other questions about our family and finances. We had a short phone conversation a few days later and less than a week later I was told that the remainder of my leg was paid for. I cried like a baby.

I called Hanger the next day and told my team that I found help and I wanted to get the leg finished. I had received the best gift in my life. I was one step closer to trying to reclaim my life.

I picked up my finished leg about a month ago. It is bright tye dye on the socket and a hydraulic knee. Its human nature to look when you see something different so why not give them something cool to look at. Since then, I have been walking everyday not a day missed. I am still using a walker, and will be for a while. But each day, it gets easier. I can wear my leg for about sixteen hours without getting uncomfortable, and I can walk around the house and some outside without too much trouble. One of the best parts, I can WALK down my front steps. I no longer have to get out of my wheelchair and scoot down my porch steps. Without my family, Hanger, or Denise with S.M.A.R.G this would not be possible. I am finally getting my life back and learning how to live with pride in myself again.

I wanted to share some of the process with you all. One last thing, both my nine year old grandson and my six year old autistic grandson both cried when they watched me walk into the house with my leg on. Nothing can top that. And every day, they see me walk come give me a hug and tell me how proud of me they are. Neither one had ever seen me walk a single step. Enjoy a video of the process.