Sandal Fiasco

Last week I ended up splashing in the stream with Robby. I hadn't planned on getting wet but the heat was oppressive and since I was not wearing my Proprio foot, I figured there would be no harm. I jumped in and spent a few hours looking for tadpoles, catching crawdads and just having fun in the cool (albeit filthy) water.

Although I was wearing the correct prosthesis to play in the stream, it has become glaringly obvious that I was not wearing the correct footwear. No matter what I do, I cannot remove the funky stream smell from my shoes. I've watched them two times, dried them in the sun, and invested in two bottles of foot odor spray to no avail. The repugnant smell has become overwhelming, following me as I walk. 

Tired of battling with the smell and waiving the white flag of odor removal, I went to the shoe store to buy a pair of utilitarian summer sandals. I wanted something comfortable and easy to don both on my prosthesis and my foot. On this shopping trip, the most important characteristic was the ability to repel odor.  I was embarrassed removing my smelly shoe in the aisle of the store because I feared that the odor would being to waft as soon as I slipped it off. I tried to remove the distinct odor, but the lady standing next to me looking at the red sandals made a distinct sniffing sound before turning and walking to the sneaker section.

I was drawn to a pair of Croc sandals not because they were stylist but because they are constructed of plastic. I reasoned that they would be easy to rinse off and would repel odor. The absence of a toe-thong, coupled with the presence of a strap along the back, sealed the deal. I grabbed my new sandals, slipped into my smelly shoe and walked to the counter.

It wasn't until I got home that I realized that the sandal has a distinctively higher heel height. I've been spoiled with my Proprio which has an automatic heel height adjustment. My activity foot does not have that feature so I went searching through my underwear drawer to retrieve my Allen wrench. After struggling to find a comfortable alignment, I begrudgingly went online to schedule an appointment with my prosthetist.

Yesterday morning I packed up Robby and drove 40 minutes to visit my Prosthetist. My "simple" heel adjustment turned into a 70 minute exercise in frustration. Apparently the "perfect" sandal had a heel height that was over the maximum designed for my activity foot. I was going to require some McGyver-type adjustments to make these shoes work.

Thankfully Elliot does not give up quickly, and he worked diligently to adjust for the height. After maxing out the adjustment parameters on my foot, he turned his attention to the sandal. The fact that the shoes are constructed of plastic enabled him to manually grind out a pocket within the foot bed. My foot shell sinks a little deeper into the sandal, but it is not noticeable. We applied Velcro to the foot shell and the foot bed of the sandal in order to help secure everything in place. (Of course, the distinctive ripping sound of the Velcro separating between the foot shell and the sandal is difficult to ignore. I'm hoping it quiets soon!)

I drove for almost an hour, and spent over an hour to adjust my prosthesis for a pair of sandals. This is precisely why I usually wear flats! I hope that the sandals hold up over the summer because after this fiasco, I have no plans on changing the shoe anytime soon!