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Wow- I can't believe that we only have 44 days until Santa makes his magical appearance. Christmas is so much more fun since I became a Mom! The elves have already been busy at our house, putting up decorations and leaving small surprises while I am picking Robby up from school. No matter how much we try, we just can't seem to catch one in action!

Robby loves Melissa & Doug toys. If your little one likes the toys as well, you don't want to miss this offer. Melissa & Doug want you to tell them which of their educational toys you think is the best! Just click on the image below to place your vote in the North "Poll!" You'll Get a Melissa & Doug 25% Off Coupon** to use at MelissaAndDoug.com just for voting!

Show and Share

Yesterday morning Robby could hardly wait to go to school. He loves Wednesdays because it is "Show and Share" day. Each week the students are asked to bring in an item related to an assigned topic. This week his class is exploring careers, so each classmate was instructed to bring an item that represents what they want to be when they grow up.

Whenever Scott and I ask Robby what he wants to be when he grows up, he coyly responds, "It's a secret." We tried to pin him down on his item Tuesday night. He finally looked at us and said, "Don't worry. I have everything under control." Not having any answers and tired of asking, I finally gave up. I figured that if he didn't have something for Show and Share, he would be disappointed perhaps learning a very real lesson.

It turns out that Robby knew exactly what he was taking to school. After getting dressed in the morning, he went into my bedroom and emerged carrying my old leg. "Momom, is it okay if I borrow this for today?" He attempted to stuff my prosthetic into his little CARS backpack, but it didn't fit. I had to smile looking at him wearing his little backpack with my plastic foot shell protruding from the side!

All of the cubbies in his classroom were overflowing with plastic fireman hats, baseball bats, stuffed dogs and toy chalkboards. My child's cubby had a leg jutting out. After kissing me goodbye he whispered, "Did you guess my secret Momom? I am going to be like Mr. Elliot (my prosthetist) when I get big. I will make you all the legs that you want."

Robby's presentation earned raves from his classmates and teachers. I learned that he sat in front of his peers, holding my leg, and explained that he was going to build prosthetics to help people walk and run. He described the "really cool robot hand" that he saw in Las Vegas and how he is going to build those arms someday. I was told that he talked for nearly 10 minutes about his ambitions!

I love Robby's unique perspective on the world. He didn't choose to be a fireman or a veterinarian. He wants to be a prosthetist when he grows up. I can't think of anything that would make me prouder!

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Stopping Time

Yesterday morning I vowed to put the thoughts of my impending surgery out of my mind. After all, there will be plenty of time to deal with that reality. I decided that I don't want to spend too much time fretting or becoming angry about something that is inevitable. Perhaps it is a form of denial--wanting to ignore thinking about something because it makes me sad. If it is denial, I've decided that I'm okay with that!

After dropping off Robby at school, I returned home excited to begin decorating for Christmas. I realize that it is a little early to be putting out the decorations. I need to somehow lift my spirits and colorful lights and glittery ornaments always seem to do the trick. (Besides, I figure I can put out as many decorations as I want this year. Chances are I'll be recovering from surgery in January when it is time for them to be put away and somebody else will have to do it!)

I quickly became sidetracked. I ended up spending the morning buried waist high in piles of clothes and toys that Robby has outgrown. It was not the best day for me to sort through his things. I always end up crying when I realize how quickly he is growing, and yesterday was no exception.

My little boy isn't so little anymore, and it makes me sad. I am so proud of the person he is becoming. He is growing into a compassionate, smart and curious individual, but I just wish he wouldn't grow so quickly!

Despite my emotions, I stayed on task and I had four bags and six boxes packed full of outgrown clothes and toys by the end of the morning. I was also a puddle of tears. Envisioning the happiness that another child will feel while playing with the toys and wearing the clothes made it a little easier.

I dried my tears, put the boxes and bags in the corner, and went to pick up Robby. I found him crying, sitting on the little green carpet in his classroom. He came running to me, literally jumping into my arms. When I asked him why he was crying, he explained, "I missed you Momom. I wanted you to come and pick me up because you make me smile."

In that moment I realized that I am okay that he has outgrown his toddler clothes and toys. I've decided to keep him this size, and this age, forever. Now if I could just figure out a way to stop time...
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This Stinks!

I used to wake up every morning and instinctively curse both my amputation and my reliance on a prosthetic. As time went on and I learned to adjust, my lamenting slowly went away. Most days I don't even think about my amputation because it has become such an engrained part of my life.

That being said, there are times when I simply hate being an amputee. Yesterday morning I woke up happy and refreshed after my successful trip to San Antonio. I went to bed with a tear stained face, frustrated with the obstacles that arise for many amputees. Sometimes, being an amputee who is reliant upon a prosthetic simply stinks!

I have been having trouble with the skin flap over my residual limb for almost a year. To my chagrin, I was prepared to have surgery this past summer to correct the issue. I was delighted when a new socket and liner seemed to fix the issue, at least buying me more time before the inevitable revision surgery.

Yesterday I learned that not only do I need to have the revision surgery on my limb, but also I have to have 1/2 to 1 inch of bone amputated as well. Re-amputation. I felt like I was being kicked in the chest when I heard the news.

I wanted to scream and cry simultaneously. Why me? I've already lost my foot and ankle. Why now do I have to undergo another extremely painful surgery? I'm a good person. It simply isn't fair. What makes it worse is that I'm angry but I'm not sure who to direct these feelings towards. I can't be mad at any person in particular, just the situation in general. It would be easier if I could blame somebody!

During the next few weeks I'll learn the specifics about the procedure. Right now, I simply don't want to think about it. I wish that being an amputee was easier or that life was somehow fair. I know that I will eventually come to terms with the situation and that I will be okay. But for this moment, I really hate being an amputee!

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San Antonio

I am home from a successful trip to San Antonio. The weather was delightful and, to my surprise, I actually had the opportunity to leave the confines of my hotel to enjoy the local attractions. Contrary to the results of most of my business trips, I came home feeling both relaxed and refreshed!

I was able to spend Thursday evening walking along RiverWalk and enjoying a scrumptious dinner with some colleagues. I retreated back to my hotel room early where I cuddled in bed to enjoy free reign with the remote control. Strange how being able to watch the television programs of my choosing has become a treat!

Friday morning I attended the ribbon cutting ceremony for Bulow BioTech Prosthetic's newest office. Getting ready for the event, I noticed that my pants were a tad tight. I figure that either the fabric shrunk in the dryer or my bum grew from the Halloween candy. Personally, I'm blaming the dryer!

Five minutes before I was expected to leave, I decided to stretch the pants out a little. Even as I was doing it I knew that it wasn't a good idea. I really should learn to listen to my instincts! Almost on cue I heard a heart stopping ripping sound. I had managed to rip a 6 inch slash in seat of the only pants I packed. I began to panic.

I frantically searched my suitcase, hoping that I had packed something else. Of course it was this trip that I decided to pack only what I needed! My only options consisted of a pair of shorts or my Hello Kitty flannel pajama bottoms. I ironed the shorts, although I probably would have been more comfortable in the flannel pajamas.

After the ribbon cutting, the rest of Friday was spent playing tourist. I visited the Alamo and meandered through local shops. It isn't often that I get to shop without the company of my chatty five year old. I shouldn't admit this, but I thoroughly enjoyed every moment.

Donning the same shorts, Saturday morning was spent greeting participants at the Diabetes Walk for a Cure. I am always terrified speaking to crowds and Saturday was no exception. Feigning confidence and channeling thoughts of my best friend whose son has just been diagnosed with diabetes got me through without passing out or throwing up. I don't think I'll ever get over my nerves regardless of how many times I speak in front of people.

I then joined the thousands of walkers who were participating in the 5K. I have to admit that I was impressed with my ability to keep up with the pace of my fellow walkers. I had visions of me crossing the finish line long after the celebration had ended and the tents had been packed up!

There was a time, not so long ago, where walking in a 5K felt like an insurmountable feat. I was delighted and felt proud of myself when I finished. Instead of feeling exhaustion, I felt like I had just gone for a walk in the park with some friends.

Perhaps my favorite part of the trip occurred on Saturday evening. Upon seeing me across the terminal, Robby broke into a full sprint to reach me. He jumped into my arms, nearly knocking me over, and proceeded to cover me with kisses. He gave me a bouquet of flowers and happily skipped out of the airport holding my hand. Although it is nice to get away and exercise my professional skills, it is always wonderful to come home!

*Oh, in case you have been curious about Friday's daycare schedule. Scott sent me a text at about 11:00 on Friday, informing me that he had submitted his leave form for the afternoon. He reached Robby's school before the dreaded nap time, rescuing him from having to sleep on the floor (which would have been a cot). The boys spent the afternoon at Chick-Fil-A and the park.

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Daycare Dilemma

I flew to San Antonio yesterday for the opening of Bulow Biotech Prosthetics. While I was thrilled with the opportunity, I felt a surge of panic when I first received the invitation. The logistics that need to be settled before I travel are exhausting.

Before Robby entered school, my traveling was relatively easy. He typically spent the time with my Mom who was willing and able to help us out. Now that he is in Kindergarten, going to stay with Nana has been relegated to an option of last resort. We needed to devise a workable plan for Robby when I travel.

I spoke with Robby's teacher and discovered that many of his classmates move to the adjacent daycare facility at the conclusion of their school day. I saw a glimmer of hope! I spoke with the Director and, to my delight, they would be happy to watch Robby on an "as needed" basis. (Of course they are charging us what I dub the "oh $*%#" hourly price, but in this case convenience trumps price.)

Wednesday night Scott and I explained to Robby that he was going to be staying at school on Friday a little longer. His eyes welled with tears, and he immediately began to protest. He wasn't upset about staying longer at school, nor was he particularly upset that I was traveling. He was devastated that he was going to be expected to take a nap.

"Momom, you're not listening to me. I really really really REALLY don't want to go. They make you sleep on the floor. I don't sleep on the floor! I sleep in a race car bed. Do you want me to just throw my race car bed away and sleep on the floor? I am not a cat or a puppy. I am a big boy who sleeps in a race car bed. I am not going to sleep on the floor! Please don't make me sleep on the floor. A worm might crawl on me. My teacher might step on me. I don't want to sleep on the floor."

My attempts at convincing him that he will lying on a cot and not on the floor were futile. I explained that he is expected to lie quietly but that he does not have to sleep. He continued to complain for the remainder of the night.

I made the best plans for Robby under my current circumstances. He will be with friends, and he is in a safe environment. I know that he is going to be okay, and I feel relieved that we finally have a workable option for when I travel, even if it does involve "sleeping on the floor."

However, I would like to go on record with my prediction for today. I don't think that Robby will lie down on a cot at all. I predict that Scott will take a few hours leave and pick up Robby before nap time thereby rescuing his son from the onerous cot. The two will then spend the remainder of the afternoon watching cartoons, playing the DS and eating chips and dip in their underwear. I'll let you know if I am right!

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Faker Betrayal

In the amputee community, a "faker" is an individual who pretends to be an amputee in order to elicit attention or sympathy from others. Typically this is done through the internet, although I have heard of cases of "fakers" feigning amputations at support groups. In addition to being a faker, it is not uncommon for this individual to also be a devotee.

Fakers infuriate me! They are often active on social networking sights, waiting to pounce on the sympathies of their unsuspecting prey. They will say that they are not hurting anybody, but in reality, their words and actions harm the entire amputee community.

Constantly soliciting pity by providing horrific stories of victimization casts all amputees in a bad light. Although it is sometimes easy for me to forget, many people don't personally know an amputee. Suppose their first interaction with somebody with an amputation is online. What impression will they have if that person is a faker? The perception that amputees are weak, dependent, and deserving of pity is perpetuated by the faker.

Scott and I work diligently to keep my forum and Facebook fan page devotee, wannabe, and faker free. I estimate that we allow only one out of every five membership requests into the group. I want to keep this little section of the internet safe for amputees who want and need to share very real issues.

Last week I was heartbroken to discover that I had been fooled when two active members were exposed as fakers. In reality, we were not supporting a young new amputee and his mom. We were being manipulated by a 24 year old, fully limbed, pathetic man. I became furious when his betrayals were revealed.

Living with limb loss can, at times, feel overwhelming for even the strongest of individuals. As if learning to adapt to a new body, prosthetics and societal changes isn't hard enough, amputees must also contend with these toxic subcultures. I feel fooled and frustrated when the Faker was revealed. Rest assured Scott and I will remain vigilant. Hopefully, this will not happen again.

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