Bye Bye Kindergarten!!

It is nearly impossible to fathom that tomorrow is Robby's last day of Kindergarten. I remember feeling nearly suffocating anxiety as the dreaded "K" word day approached. I was nervous for him and sad because I knew I was going to miss him while he was gone. I so vividly remember dropping him off on that first day and sobbing until I went to pick him up. In that moment I seriously began to consider homeschooling simply to avoid the angst of the separation!

Robby quickly assimilated to the new routine. He is extremely popular with his peers and is excelling academically. (Did I mention he was April's Student of the Month for his entire school?) He has demonstrated a strength of character by standing up for his peers who are being teased or ridiculed, an attribute of which I could not be prouder.

My adjustment to his being in school has not been as seamless, but my progress has been steady. For much of September I felt lost during those three hours everyday. I was so used to having him with me that the silence in the house was disconcerting. I simply didn't know what to do with myself or how to fill the time.

By the time the holidays came around, my work responsibilities increased drastically. I had no problem filling the time while he was gone. Unfortunately I felt guilty for not giving him all of my attention when he came home from school so I was forced to stay up late and wake up early to finish my projects.

Through the winter months I was running on empty, constantly exhausted and feeling inadequate. I knew that I wasn't being kind to myself and that I needed to make a change. I started to allow Robby to watch a few cartoons when he came home from school, buying me time to finish my work and chores. I discovered that he seemed to relish the time to decompress and didn't need me to constantly engage him. I wish I had figured that out in September; it would have saved me a lot of sleepless nights!

This spring I decided to start taking better care of myself. I joined a gym and made my health and emotional well-being a priority. At first I felt selfish taking the time to take care of myself, but I quickly learned that I am a better and happier person because of my efforts.

It has taken me a year to figure out how to be a mom to a Kindergartner. In a few months he will be in the First grade and yes, the thought does make me tear up. It is so hard to grasp that he is old enough to be in the first grade. I know that the new school year enrolled in a full day program will be another transition. I'm only hoping that it is as smooth for both of us as it was for him this year.

My Superwoman Moment

We have tree trimmers from various companies come by our house soliciting work several times a year. Typically I accept their estimates, take their business cards, and tell them that we'll be in touch if we decide to get any work done. The paperwork is dutifully filed in my junk drawer only to be thrown out a year later.

Several weeks ago we had a tree fall down in our side yard, narrowly missing our garage. The fallen tree has shaken up more than our yard. Since the event, Scott and I have been panicked about trees and large limbs falling on our house. We were lucky that the large oak didn't hit any structures, but that is not something I want to leave to chance. Instead of being inconvenienced when a tree trimmer knocked on my door last week, I was delighted.


We have been particularly concerned about a towering oak that had branches over Robby's bedroom. If one of those enormous branches fell, not only would the roof sustain damage but also we were fearful that Robby would be injured. The tree was obviously dying, and we didn't want to risk waiting for it to fall by itself. 

I was negotiating with the tree trimmer when Mr. Bill, our neighbor, came over. He knows that I feel uncomfortable negotiating and he took it upon himself to strike a deal. I'm glad that he came over; his bargaining skills brought the price down by 2/3!


Yesterday the tree trimmers came to remove the worrisome oak. The tree was cut down and the trunk was cut into fireplace lengths. The men even carved a little seat in the remaining stump so that Robby could have a "throne."

Working together Scott and I managed to move about 25 tree logs out of the center of our yard last night. We estimate that each segment weighs at least 180 pounds, but I tend to believe that they are much heavier. Robby was helpful as always, cheering us on and playing foreman by pointing out where he wanted each log moved.


We each pushed on a side of a log and slowly rolled it into position. My special contribution was wedging my prosthetic foot under the log to prevent it from rolling onto us whenever we needed to rest. This was one situation where having a carbon fiber foot came in quite handy.  I didn't have to worry about broken toes!

I doubt that I would have been able to move the logs before I started training at the gym.  My arms and back are sore, and my foot shell is flattened, but I was able to help! I am proud of myself and, although I have decided to train at a different facility when my present gym contract expires, I am not going to give up on my goal of becoming stronger.

CNN Article

Several weeks ago I was approached by a reporter for CNN who was writing an article on prosthetics, specifically socket art, and wanted to understand my perspective. I was thrilled about the chance to participate and the opportunity to tell my story.

Amputees have a limited voice in our society, and I strive to make the most of every opportunity to portray those with limb loss in a positive light. I always try to remember myself as I was preparing for my amputation before I begin answering an interview. Unsure about what to expect, I scoured the internet for information about amputees who were living happy and productive lives. Every story I saw, regardless of how mundane, gave me hope. If my participating and sharing my stories helps just one person who is struggling and afraid, I'm willing to deal with my jittery nerves that always accompany an interview. (Of course Scott might disagree slightly as I'm told repeatedly that I become grumpy and irritable before each event or interview.)

I realize that I am my own worst critic, always quick to point out my mistakes or flaws, I have a difficult time watching myself on video or reading my quotes in articles so I often second guess my word choice to the point of becoming quasi-neurotic. When the link to the article arrived in my inbox a few days ago, my heart began to beat quickly as I prepared for the worst.

I was expecting to feel embarrassed or unsuccessful--my two most prominent reactions to reading my quotes. I was surprised when I finished reading the article and felt nothing but happiness and pride. It is rare for me to acknowledge, but I really like this piece and my contribution to the topic. I wanted to share the article with all of you. I hope you like it!

The Invisible Disability

After I stopped teaching in the public schools, I lost touch with most of my "work friends." After years of cultivating relationships and sharing the joys and tragedies of life, I  maintain contact with only two people. I suppose that's normal. After all, it was difficult to get together and, when our schedules did mesh, the conversations felt strained and uncomfortable. Apparently the only thing we really all had in common was work. 

My friendship with Bonnie is one that has survived all of the transitions in life. When we taught together, I would have been hard pressed to find a stronger ally. She was a strong instructor and a great source of information, ideas, and advice. Work and her eclectic hobbies consumed her life. She was a gifted weaver, beekeeper, sculptor, teacher of the blind, wood carver, and quilter. She had such a fascinating perspective on the world and such interesting stories.

Several years ago Bonnie was in a horrific automobile accident. Although she survived, the person that I knew was gone forever. Bonnie suffered a traumatic brain injury.

In a moment her entire life changed. She used to be able to look at a piece of wood and imagine the artistic possibilities. Now she becomes lost in the grocery store. Bonnie could device and implement intricate and beautiful weaving patterns. She now becomes confused handling money and is not able to maintain a checkbook. Although she can read the words in a cookbook, Bonnie cannot organize her thoughts enough to prepare a simple meal. She has gone from being fiercely independent and the person whom everybody relied upon to living in an assisted living facility and dependent upon others to help with the most mundane tasks.

Bonnie called on Saturday and asked me if I could come to visit. When I stopped by her apartment on Sunday, she had tears in her eyes and was shaking uncontrollably. She was struggling to talk and I knew she was overwhelmed and scared. I gave her a hug and reassured her that it was going to be okay.

During that embrace I think I finally accepted that my independent, quick-witted, and talented friend was gone. The woman that I was hugging looked like my friend, but that is where the resemblance ended. I felt a wave of sadness overtake me, but I tried not to let it show.  I owe it to my friend to help her in anyway possible. I have no doubt that she would have done the same for me!

Sitting at her kitchen table I saw piles of note cards throughout the room. She explained that her Brain Injury therapist has recommended writing down everything, and that the technique has been helpful.  She is trying so hard, and I know that this must be so difficult for her. She is aware of everything that she has lost and can explain her limitations. It is heartbreaking to see the grief in her eyes, but she hasn't given up. I'm so proud of my friend.


I have always believed that everybody has something "wrong" with them. Mine is extremely visible and people can identify me as an amputee immediately. Bonnie looks normal and most who see her wouldn't know that she is struggling. She is suffering from an invisible disability which is occurring in her mind, not in her physical body. My physical disability is a walk in the park compared to what Bonnie endures everyday. Traumatic Brain Injuries are one of the cruelest disabilities, leaving the individual with memories of their previous life but rendering them without the ability to return to the same passions and joys. There is little I can do for my friend except to help in completing daily activity tasks such as grocery shopping and continue to be a presence in her life offering care and support.

Tadpoles

With the weather warming, it has been nearly impossible to keep Robby away from the stream. Actually, the temperature has little to do with the attraction. He will hop in the water while I'm bundled up in a jacket. At every opportunity he has been gravitating towards the stream ever since the deep freeze of winter has left.

A few weeks ago Robby discovered a colony of tadpoles living in the stream. He was giddy when he caught his first little swimming friend. After talking with his teacher, we decided that it would be a fun class project to watch the tadpoles change into frogs. Robby was more than happy to oblige and easily caught two plump little tadpoles to be adopted as his class pets.

Robby's little classmates love watching the tadpoles. Every morning they eagerly run over to the small aquarium to check on them. Twice a week, rain or shine, I schlep down to the stream and fill a pitcher with fresh water for the aquarium. Watching the water being changed in the tank is quite the spectacle in his class as all of the kids crowd around me eager to watch and help!

Yesterday while changing the water, we discovered that the plumper tadpole is beginning to grow frog legs. Talk about exciting! Within moments of the discovery Robby's entire kindergarten class was frog jumping all around the classroom, singing and ribbit-ing with gusto.

After jumping for several minutes, Robby came over to finish "helping" me change the water. He looked at the smaller tadpole and noticed that he was not yet growing his legs. Quickly all of his friends stopped hopping and came over to inspect for themselves.

His teacher and I were quickly peppered with questions. "Why doesn't the other tadpole have his legs yet?" "Why is he so much smaller?"  "Is he going to be okay?"  "Is he going to die?" "Will he still turn into a frog?" The hopping happy class quickly became frantic and worried over the little legless tadpole.

I tried to explain that tadpoles all develop at different times, just as they all grow at different speeds. The tadpole will be okay, and he will grow his legs. Despite my attempts, I could tell that they were not convinced. Then Robby added his two cents- "Don't worry everybody. Just stay calm. If the tadpole doesn't grow his legs Momom and me will take him to see Mr. Elliot. He will build some prosthetic legs for the tadpole so he will be able to hop."

His teacher looked uncomfortable. I had to keep myself from giggling. Robby's peers thought that made perfect sense and stopped panicking about the undeveloped little legs. To Robby, it made perfect sense. I just love his little perspective on the world.

Philly Mobility Clinic

I never went to physical therapy after my amputation. I requested PT but was summarily denied by my insurance carrier. I was never provided with an explanation and, to be completely honest, I was too mentally and physically exhausted at that point to fight.


Everything I learned about walking on my prosthetic I figured out through trial and error and with the assistance of my prosthetist. I made a lot of mistakes, and my learning curve could have been lessened greatly had I been working under the supervision of a good physical therapist. If I had the opportunity to go back in time, I definitely would have filed an appeal and fought for the service. A lot of bad habits were developed due to my improvising!


My first experience with a physical therapist came at the Amputee Coalition Conference in 2008. I attended a mobility workshop taught by Physical Therapist extraordinaire Bob Gailey. I spent three hours shuffling and moving in a hotel ballroom along with a few hundred other amputees, all with various levels of limb loss and experience. By the time the clinic was over, I was sweaty and exhausted. I also knew that my life was forever changed because of the experience.

In a few short hours Bob was able to dissect walking with a prosthetic into easy to understand and apply steps. My gait was normalized, my stride length was equal, and I was more confident in my abilities. I had been an amputee for five years at this point and thought I was doing a good job walking. During that clinic my "good walking" was molded into "darn near perfect."

Last year I had the privilege of attending a running clinic hosted by Ossur and Challenged Athletes Foundation and taught by Bob Gailey. Before the clinic I had tried running. In fact, my first deliberate attempt resulted in my falling and breaking my wrist. To say I was a cautious participant would be an understatement!

I decided to trust Bob and his teaching process. By the end of the morning I was running. I wasn't fast, nor was I particularly pretty to watch, but I was no longer afraid, and for me that felt like winning a Gold Medal.


I was flabbergasted and honored when I received an email several weeks ago inviting me to speak at the running clinic in Philadelphia. The clinic is being held on May 19th and more information can be found here. I can't guarantee the quality of my speech, but I can attest to the metamorphosis that takes place to participants during this event. Amputees of all athletic abilities and experiences are welcome to attend.  Hope to see you there! (On a side note, it will also be my birthday and I'd love to get together for a cupcake after the event!)

Play-Off Essay

I have a hard time sitting around and doing nothing. I feel a need, almost a compulsion, to always be busy. Even if the task isn't particularly productive, I feel better being engaged in an activity versus just sitting and watching television. I love to write and spend a lot of time on my computer, either working on this blog or entering various essay contests.

Over the years I have wasted entering Internet essay contests, and I have yet to win a single prize. Last year I learned that my piece detailing why my sister and her family deserved a trip to Disney made it to the final round, but since we never received tickets in the mail, I eventually accepted that I did not win. Undeterred by my lack of success, I continue to write and enter.

A few weeks ago I came across a contest searching for the "Ultimate Hockey Fan." If you know me at all, you would realize that my being considered a hockey fan borders on the absurd. Scott, however, is a die-hard follower and fan of the Washington Capitals. When I saw that the prize was box tickets for a play-off game, I thought it would be fun to enter. I wrote my submission in first person, borrowing the thoughts and actions from my husband. I hit the "send" button and never thought much about it.

In fact, I forgot all about the contest until I received an email from ESPN (the contest sponsors). I was informed that I was a finalist and a phone interview was requested. Somehow, I had convinced the reader that I was the ultimate hockey fan. Who knew I had a knack for fiction!

Scott spent most of Sunday afternoon tutoring me on the intricacies of the sport, concentrating on the Washington Capitals. I learned about the positions, some of the stats and the stories behind many of the players. By the time the phone rang for my interview my mind was on hockey overload.

To my surprise I wasn't asked any questions about the Caps or about the game. We talked about the perception of hockey, why I like the game and how I feel about the players in general. I was surprised about how much I knew, and how much respect I indeed had for the sport. I hung up the phone feeling confident that I completed a strong interview.

Yesterday evening I received a phone call from ESPN. I have been selected as one of the "Ultimate Hockey Fans." This evening a camera crew will be arriving at my home to film my reactions while watching the Capitals game. I suspect I'm going to have to be more animated than my usual demeanor, which includes my toiling on Facebook and giggling at Scott while he prances and paces around the room spewing obscenities at the television.

My reactions to the fast paced action of my new found beloved sport will be included in a piece that will air later in the playoffs. I'll let you know when it is going to be shown. In the meantime, I'm hoping that my acting ability is as strong as my interview skills! I hope Scott appreciates the play-off tickets because this could push me into a whole realm of humiliation. After all, my being on ESPN is the epitome of irony!