Atlanta!

This afternoon I'm hopping onto a plane and heading to Atlanta where I've been invited to share my story and experiences at a physician's conference. This is my first foray into this avenue and I must admit that I'm excited. I don't know what to expect, if they will be interested or what questions will be posed, but I am embracing the novelty aspects of this adventure.  In addition to meeting with a new audience, I am looking forward to room service, control of the television, and sleeping diagonal in bed!

This will be a short trip, with my leaving today and returning Saturday afternoon. The brevity of the trip has eased my typical pre-travel anxiety. I don't feel compelled to prepare meals, write exhaustive lists or finish every piece of laundry before I leave. If I know my two boys, they will visit Best Buy to buy a new Wii game, swing by Sheetz for "man food" and neither will really notice that I'm gone. I've concluded that my occasionally traveling for work is beneficial for all three of us, for unique and varied reasons.

I've come to believe that occasionally being the temporary sole parent is good for Scott. He is forced into my realm, and always seems more appreciative of my efforts when I return home. Robby enjoys spending one on one time with his Daddy, and the two bond in my absence. When I'm around, Robby naturally gravitates towards me for resolution to problems or when he wants to play. Having to rely on his Daddy in this role not only solidifies their bond, but demonstrates the being a father incorporates all skills, not just those deemed masculine. It's good for Robby to see that a man can fold laundry, do the dishes and kiss boo-boos!

I always experience a boost in self-esteem after flexing my professional muscles. It's refreshing to be valued for skills other than cooking dinner, washing clothes and chauffeuring between activities. Although I miss my boys when I'm away, I thoroughly enjoy being on my own.

By telling my story and sharing my experiences, I am hopeful that other amputees will benefit. If just one physician gains insight into amputee care because of me, then the time away from my family is a worthwhile venture. I have never been to this conference, so I am unnerved by the unknown. I'm just hoping that I will be able to read the situation and communicate effectively with this unique audience!

I'm looking forward to the next few days. Hopefully I'll make some new friends and reconnect with old ones. Wish me luck as I try to reach a new audience!

Best Kiss Ever

A few weeks ago, Robby rebuffed my goodbye kiss and hug when I dropped him off at school. I wish I could say that I wasn't impacted, but that would be a lie. Mr. Bill enjoys telling anybody who will listen the story about the morning I showed up at his door, sobbing uncontrollably because my little boy wouldn't kiss me anymore. I am glad that he was amused by the situation because I found it anything but funny!

Because I had no other options, I adjusted to our new goodbye protocol. I kiss and hug Robby as he hops into the car for the drive to school. I'm allowed to give him a high five as I leave the classroom, and if nobody is looking, he'll blow me a kiss. Thankfully, I still get a hug when I pick him up at the end of the school day!

I have never made an issue of Robby's request because although it stings, I know that it is a normal part of growing up. My lamenting his growing up will not do anything productive for his psyche. Instead, I've silently accommodated his requests while taking full advantage of every cuddle opportunity presented.

Last week, when dropping Robby off at school, everything changed again. After our traditional, and apparently socially accepted, high five, I turned to leave the classroom. Robby stopped me and asked me to wait. He walked over to a little boy, whose name I will change to protect his identity, and brought him over to me.

"Joe, this is my Momom and I love her. She's very nice and pretty and does super fun things with me. I'm going to give her a hug and a kiss because I love her and we're buddies. If you don't hug and kiss your Mom, maybe she just isn't as nice as my Momom." He then proceeded to wrap his little arms around my neck and plant a wonderful kiss on my cheek. Joe never said a word, watched our exchange and returned to playing with his blocks. Robby has been kissing and hugging me every morning since he took this stand.

I left his classroom delighted not only because he gave me a kiss, but more importantly because he stood up for his desire to show affection. He didn't allow the pressure of friends stop him from doing something that he wanted to do. He thought it out and devised his own plan on how to handle the situation. I am so proud of him. That was, and probably always will be, the best kiss of my life!

Sick Leave

At 2 AM I was awoken by the foreboding sensation of my stomach turning. I tried to lie as still as possible, hoping the nausea would pass. Experience has taught me that my reliance upon my prosthetic significantly impacts the timing of my "I'd better get to the bathroom because I'm going to vomit" decision. After all, there is no running to the bathroom when a prosthesis must be donned first! When it became clear that my stomach issues were not going to be wished or ignored away, I put on my leg and surrendered to the illness.

Of course, a combination of panic and the dark caused me to fumble with my liner and leg. Silently cursing my amputation (because I knew opening my mouth at this moment would likely result in a messy affair), I barely made it to the bathroom in time.  Being an amputee in the middle of the night when a stomach bug hits simply stinks!

To spare the unseemly and repulsive details, I'll simply declare that it was a long night. This morning I will attempt to gather my composure long enough to drop Robby off at school. I plan on coming home, climbing into bed and sleeping until I feel better, or it is time to pick him up. This is my first sick day since Robby started school full time. I have to admit, I'm happy for the reprieve and solitude today.

Robby Rotten Returned

This past weekend has left both Scott and me exhausted. We had planned on taking full advantage of the beautiful weather by finishing our yard work. Instead we were contending with a cantankerous six year old. Every parenting skill we possess was put to the test, and I'm fairly certainly that we failed.

The weekend started out pleasantly as I surprised Robby by taking him to a movie Friday afternoon after school. We had a great time and he could not have been better behaved in the theater. Unfortunately that was the last time I saw my sweet little boy. Early Saturday morning it became clear that my well behaved child was gone and Robby Rotten was there to wreak havoc in his stead.

With the exception of a few brief moments of calm, our weekend was a blur of tantrums and time-out. I am not sure what triggered Robby Rotten to appear, but I suspect that being tired and battling a cold contributed. No matter what concessions were made, he was both high maintenance and miserable!

I consider myself to be laid back, but I do not tolerate being yelled at by a six year old. I don't raise my voice, and I will not allow my child to scream at me. At one point, Scott and I thought he was going to take up permanent residence in the time-out corner, and I was seriously considering wearing noise cancelling headphones.

The impetus for the final showdown was the letter 'k.' We were working on his alphabet worksheets and he seemed to be enjoying the one-on-one attention. We made it through the first 10 letters without incident, but apparently practicing the 11th was too optimistic. As if a switch had been flipped, he began to scream and told me that I was "the worst Momom in the whole wide world and a really bad letter writer." When he finally stopped screaming, he resorted to throwing and cursing.

With each outburst over the weekend, the consequences became more severe. By the time he went to bed Sunday night, he was sobbing in the time-out corner, lamenting that he was "definitely on the naughty list this time." In the meantime, his bedroom door was removed from its hinges (to thwart the door slamming), all of his Legos and Lincoln Logs were put away until they are earned back, his board games were put out of reach and he lost his DS indefinitely.

I'm hoping that my nice little boy returns today. He fell asleep early and did not wake up in the middle of the night, so I'm optimistic that Robby Rotten left. I figure that today one of two things will happen: either he'll start earning back his toys or I'll get a phone call from his teacher about a behavior issue. I'm keeping my fingers crossed that it isn't the latter!

Walking Day!!

As much as I try to forget, some dates are forever etched in my memory. The dates of my accident and my subsequent amputation are  typically spent subdued. I used to be depressed, but recently I find myself more reflective. Usually I try to acknowledge the accomplishments that I have achieved since these incidents occurred, but more often than not, I find myself fighting back tears and grieving. Although I don't dread the anniversaries with the passion I felt during the first few years, I always feel relieved when I wake up the following morning with the knowledge that the date has passed.

This weekend will mark an anniversary that I relish celebrating. With so many negative anniversaries, it is refreshing to celebrate a happy event.  This Sunday marks my 9th Walking Day.

Scott and I devised Walking Day out of our need to commemorate a life changing event. On November 11, 2003, I took my first steps (literally and figuratively) into a new life. I was scared about my future but excited about starting my new journey. In many ways, it is the day that I began living again!

There was a time, especially during the year, that I thought I would never feel joy, feel beautiful, or feel confident again. I fretted that each step would be laborious, and I mourned that I would be classically disabled for the remainder of my life. Nine years ago I donned my first prosthetic and took a leap of faith, worrying that I would fail but hoping that I would survive.

With time, patience, and practice, I have regained my mobility. I've learned  not only to accept my body but also appreciate everything that I can do. Although the journey hasn't always been easy, I have to say that I love the life that I am living. 

Unlike my myriad of other solemn anniversaries, Walking Day always makes me happy. I watch the video of my first steps and feel nothing but pride as I reminisce about my journey. I've come so far in 9 years, and I am looking forward to what the future holds!

Skating

Last week we decided, for a variety of reasons, to put Robby's swim lessons on a permanent hiatus. I called his swim school to withdraw him only to be informed that I was paid through the month of November. Since I hate to pay for services that aren't used and refunding our money was not an option, Robby will continue with his classes through November. For the next few weeks we will have a busy family schedule as we chauffeur Robby between swim and ice skating!

Robby began skating lessons on Monday, and he was thrilled to be back on the ice. I could see his ear-to-ear grin from across the rink! I stood at the side of the ice, freezing my bum off, watching him slide (and fall) for an hour. He never complained, and the smile never left his face. When my little sweaty, red cheeked boy climbed off the ice, he gave me a hug and told me that he had a great time and can't wait to come again.

We have skating once a week, but Robby is already begging to go back to the rink. He was provided with a pass for all open skate sessions and is eager to practice his "snowplow stops." Unfortunately he needs to have an adult skate with him. Neither Scott nor I can skate.

I despise not being able to do things with Robby because of my amputation. I realize that some amputees are able to skate and ski without an issue. That being said, the thought of strapping a thin blade of sharp metal on the bottom of my prosthetic and trying to maneuver a smooth sheet of ice terrifies me!

I don't want my own anxieties to stop me from trying new things, and I certainly don't want my fears to impact Robby. However, so much of remaining upright on skates depends upon ankle strategies. Lacking an ankle and prior skating experience, I am doubtful that I would emerge from the rink without at least one broken bone.

Not feeling comfortable with an activity because of my prosthetic is extraordinarily rare. I have always been able to accommodate any activity with my prosthetic. I am not one to give up, so (with the help of my mom) I've devised a creative solution.  After some research and a few brainstorming sessions with Mr. Bill, we are going to convert the pool platform into an ice skating rink. Mr. Bill is going to build a rim around the platform, and I will lay thick plastic sheeting. After everything is smooth and the platform is flooded, all we will need is a strong freeze. Voila, we will have our own ice rink for Robby to practice his skills.

Not only will he be able to skate, but also I'll be able to help him with his skills. Where it is frowned upon to wear traction shoes at the ice rink, I can do whatever I want at home! I can wear my ice grippers for stability, climb onto the ice and lend him a hand whenever he needs it.

I have figured out a way to engage with Robby in a beloved new activity while remaining safe! As an added bonus, we'll finally be purposing the gigantic platform that has sat idle in the middle of our backyard.since the pool debacle. All we need is a hard freeze and we'll be skating!

Snow Anticipation

The ground is white with frost this morning, and it looks so tranquil outside. After a buggy and humid summer, I'm looking forward to cold weather, sledding, and snowball fights. The nip in the air has motivated me to get my winter gear in order today.

My first winter after becoming an amputee I was utterly miserable. My limb was always cold. I'm not talking about simply being cool or chilly. It often became so cold that it was painful, keeping me up at night and making it difficult for me to walk outside for long periods of time. I knew I was going to have to move to warmer climate or figure out a way to winterize my prosthetic.

After trial and error, I discovered the versatility of those little air activated hand warmers that are often sold in check-out lines and sporting goods stores. Tossed into the bottom of my socket, these little pads keep my leg toasty warm, without overheating, for hours. They are a godsend when I'm sledding with Robby, sparing me from my leg becoming debilitated by the cold.

Remember the leg warmer socks, made famous by Jane Fonda during the 1980's? This fashion faux pas, when slipped over the pylon, helps to keep the cold from conducting directly into the bottom of the socket. As an added bonus, the snow is kept out of the foot shell eliminating the need to dig out the impacted ice that often accumulates between the components and the plastic. I may not be the most fashionable Mom at the sledding hill, but I should receive credit for being resourceful!

Although nothing makes me feel completely stable on ice, Yak-Tracks come pretty close. I appreciate that they fit easily over my shoe, saving me the inconvenience of having to change into boots. I keep several sets of these little slip-ons in my house and car because I never seem to remember where I put them after I take them off.

This morning, in hopeful anticipation of a snow filled winter, I'm going to order a case of hand warmers. (I discovered that they are considerably cheaper when ordered in bulk online.) I will then scavenge my sock drawer to find all my neon, circa 1980 leg warmers. I will probably be singing "Let it snow" by the time I dig through the laundry room to locate my Yak-Trax and hat and gloves. Last year we didn't receive much snow. I'm hoping that we make up for it this year, and I plan to be ready when the first flakes begin to fall!