Shaking Things Up

I am standing in those Canadian crutches, no easy task

We all have a tendency to allow our lives to fall into an established pattern or routine because  it is familiar and easy. My physical therapy sessions have fallen into that category until Chris, my physical therapist, decided to "shake things up" a bit--a successful attempt to get me more motivated.

Trying to maintain the line between professionalism and frendship between Chris and myself has become somewhat skewed. Because she and I enjoy each other's company so much it was easy for friendship to blossom.

Last week Chris said, "I have to talk to you about something." I said, "Chris you can talk to me about anything." She went on to ask me what I hope to achieve through my therapy and what my ultimate goal was? I replied that I thought we had already eastablished my goal-- to walk unaided.

Chris continued to explain that I had completed forty PT sessions in twenty weeks and although I had made great strides in that period, I had reached a plateau of sorts. I realize that the conversation we had was not easy for her, as she did not want to belittle my achievements thus far, but at the same time we had to move further along, if that is what I wanted to do.

She went on to say she has a responsibility as a physical therapist to report my progress and she felt that in order to get closer to my ultimate goal, we had to become a little more daring, trying bolder and more advanced techniques.She had even mentioned that perhaps I should take a break from therapy so that I could perfect what I had learned by putting it into pracitical everyday use.

The next logical step in my progression is to move from walking with a walker to walking with Canadian crutches. Canadian crutches are the type of crutches that have the bands that wrap around your forearms.

After our conversation something must have struck a chord in me and I walked within the parallel bars, but not touching them, on Canadian crutches. This was the first time I had done that and it was yet another milestone in my progression.

After completing the walk I asked her if I should just finish my already scheduled appointments and then take that break she had mentioned earlier. Chris said, "well not now, not after you have just walked on the crutches for the first time. I think we should keep going."

At today's session I stood up from my wheelchair using one bar and one Canadian crutch and proceded to walk within the parallel bars on three seperate occasions. These recent accomplishments were a result of our conversation from the previous week. I don't think Chris set out to deliberately put pressure on me to perform at a higher level, but she got her point across. Serendipity at it's best!

Progressing in my journey to learn to walk on two above knee prosthetic legs is going to involve some calulated risk. If I want to remain walking on my walker, that of course is my perogative, but anyone who knows me, knows that will never be good enough.

Walking those few times on those crutches has remotivated me to continue down my path to see just how far I can get. Sometimes we all need to have things "shaken up" a bit to get ourselves going again.

Stepping outside our comfort zone is not always easy, it is even harder to "step out" with prosthetic legs, but great strides and achievements are not always easy. (Excuse those puns).

Thank goodness Chris and I had  our little talk, it has helped me tremendously. I hope all of you have someone like Chris in your life to help "shake things up" from time to time, it keeps life interesting.

Being Human

Let me try to paint a portrait for you of what it is like to walk on two above knee prosthetic legs. Imagine if you can walking on two stilts. I used to describe walking on my prosthetic  legs in that manner, however it is not quite accurate.

Imagine trying to walk on two stilts that both have hinges in them (the knee), that is actually a better description of what walking is like for me.

A couple of weeks ago at physical therapy we tried something different. The exercise was to try to walk without using a walker outside the parallel bars. My therapist, Chris, was in front facing me with my hands on her shoulders. My prosthetist, another Chris, was behind me trying to help me get my hip motion correct, by moving my hips as I attempted to walk.

It was one of the most terrifying things I ever attempted to do. Suffice it to say I was not successful. The reason I am writing this is because I was shocked at how much fear it evoked in me. Rarely, if ever, do I have such feelings of fear with respect to this whole leg loss scenario.

I am almost at a loss of words to describe the feelings of being completely out of control that I felt. A lot of what I do when I walk, stand, sit and reach for things in a standing position involve some degree of loss of control but I have learned to recognize those feelings and over time have developed a degree of control that doesn't involve fear.

Of course the terror I was feeling was evident not only my face but I practically decapitated Chris by grapping her neck to keep my balance. After I calmed down from the incident I tried to explain why I reacted the way I did, which by the way was completely unexpected. Chris, my therapist, said she understood and admitted although she is in a profession where people in my situation are not uncommon, she still cannot accurately feel what I feel.

I guess the question that remains in my mind is where did that feeling of fear come from and why is it there? I suppose anyone could have or would have reactly similarily and yet I was surprised and disappointed  that I did not handle it more successfully and with more dignity. I have looked at You Tube videos of bilateral above knee amputees who walk unaided up and down hills, play golf , etc.and that is still my goal, however the unexpected fear I felt sometimes makes me wonder if I am being unrealistic.

I am trying to understand fear and I already know that a lot of fear is caused by lack of faith.

Another bewildering reaction occured last week that was also surprising  to me. I had been having a really good day. Bill and I had gone to Costco and we were back at my place. I stood in the kitchen and for some reason my left leg became detached, probably because I inadvertantly hit the release button. Be that as it may, although I was slightly irritated I went to the bedroom,  reattached it, and never gave it much thought.

A short time later I heated some black bean soup for lunch. I had already given Bill his portion and had my bowl of soup balanced on my lap as I wheeled into the living room.  It fell off my lap, the bowl broke and the black bean soup flew everywhere.

My intial reaction was anger and irritation quickly followed by an onslaught of tears. I sat there momentarily crying not over spilt milk but over spilt soup. I do not know why I reacted the way I did. Fortunately Bill could see how upset the incident had made me and without speaking a word jumped into action, cleaning up the broken soup bowl and wiping up the spilled soup.

Again I don't know why I reacted the way I did and it bothers me. I talked to Steve about it and he said it was probably pent up frustration that had been building over time. He continued to say he realized to a greater or lesser degree how difficult and frustrating doing everyday tasks must be for me.

Now you may be asking yourself why is he writing about all this?

After having read Eckhart Tolle's book, "The Power of Now" several times, the book advises that we step back in a nonjudgmental way and look at ourselves observing our various reactions in various situations. My observations have made me aware of myself. In an attempt to be nonjudgmental, it has revealed to me that perhaps I could begin to get a better grip on my emotions and reactions and find that inner peace which we all harbor within ourselves.

After I had begun writing  this particular blog entry (yesterday) and before it was completed, I had my usual physical therapy appointment with Chris. I told Chris what I  was writing about and she said we are all human beings and anyone could have reacted in those situations the same as you. She went on to say that most people in my circumstances would have similar or often times worse reactions but that my adverse responses were few and far between.

I remember reading in a book about an exmarine who became a bilateral AK amputee as a result of a land mine. He explained in his book that his anger was so great intially he used throw his prosthetic legs across the room and at the wall.

Observing my reactions and being aware of  what circumstances prevoke negative ones, may help me with future outbursts. If that doesn't work, I have to realize that those feelings of fear,anger, frustration and disappointment are normal and even expected given my situation.

I have to give myself permission to be a human being......we all do.

  

Money

In our society everything is about money or lack of money. What you wear, what your educational level is, where you live and even how straightened and whitened your teeth are, is all determined by how much money you have or do not have.

It has always troubled me that we don't or can't look beyond our  socioeconomic boundries that seem to determine a person's worth in the eyes of others.

In the final analysis as we approach death we are stripped of all of the worldly things we have accumulated over our lifetimes, what we are left with is our actual worth. What kind of person were we? Were we kind? Were we loved by others? Did we give back to others?  The answers to these questions are what actually determine how wealthy we really were in our lifetime.

As we live our day to day lives it would  seem advantageous for all of us to pay more attention to the inside of ourselves rather than by being consumed by external appearances.

Anyone who knows me already knows that I have struggled with issue of money all of my life and still continue to do so. Lack of money can become a real source of depression and anxiety if you allow it. On a daily basis we are subjected or rather bombarded with advertising that tells us over and over again we are nothing without the best car, the biggest house, the latest electronic gadget, etc.

I believe that bombardment of advertising has led to a lot of economic hardship for people who believe their self worth is determined by material objects. Naturally I have become somewhat affected myself by all of these advertising ploys.

As I get older and I think after having suffered the loss of my legs, I have begun to pay more attention to the inside of myself and less attention to my outward appearance. The loss of my legs has forced me to look at myself more analytically. I have had an epiphany of sorts. I understand more fully that my outward appearance physically has little to do with what kind of person I really am.

All the money in the world would never buy me the God given legs I was born with. Having legs or not having legs does not define me, similarily having or not having money does not define me either.

I want to live my life with grace and dignity remembering the most important things in life, loving others, being loved by others, and having compassion for my fellow man and woman are just a few of my life's goals. It might be beneficial for all of us to occasionally take a step back, look at our lives and see if we like not the car we drive or the home we live in, but rather do we like the type of person we are on the inside? Are we happy with who we are rather than what we own?

I am not foolish enough to believe that having money does not make your life easier, but we have to be careful not to allow money to completely dictate our lives. We all know of someone who has spent their entire life accumulating wealth and power but it has been to the detriment of the more important aspects of their life; like not being present for their family or friends, not spending those precious moments with their children growing up etc.

I understand the constraints money or lack of money places on us as human beings in our society. However, sometimes with the lack of money comes the ability and time to really take a look inside ourselves--to examine our souls.

I have mentioned something my friend, Michelle McKinney Hammond, said to me in the hospital after the loss of my second leg, which I feel bears repeating, "out of great losses come great blessings." I want to be able to look at my life in hindsight and be proud and thankful for how I have lived and learned in my lifetime.

I want my life to be a life not full of regrets of what I did or did not do, but rather to know in my heart that my existence has been one of love, compassion, faith and perseverance. It is my wish that we all will feel that way about ourselves. How do you feel about yourself at this very moment of your life? After all this very moment is the only moment we really have.
       

Remembering My Mother

It is hard to believe my Mother has been gone sixteen years today.

I remember when my youngest sister, Delpha, called to tell me she had passed away  in her sleep. Apparently the paramedics were still at Mom and Delpha's apartment when Delpha called. I was so shocked by the news that I asked to speak to a paramedic to be sure that what Delpha had told  me was true.

After hanging up the phone I went into hysterics, crying and lying on the floor. My Mother wasn't  a  well woman, she had COPD (chronic obstructive pulmonary disease), a result of years of smoking, however, she wasn't in imminent danger of dying, or so I thought.

I had spoken to my Mother just two days before she died. It was Labor Day weekend approaching and I was planning a pool party and barbeque at my friend Mark's house on Saturday. When I talked to Mom I had invited her and Delpha to the party,  then she went on to say she wasn't up for coming over. I practically pleaded with her to come, offering to pick her and Delpha up and bring them back home after the gathering. I'll never forget what she said, "Please don't be mad at me if I don't go."

I told her I wouldn't be mad at her but that I thought she would have a good time and she would not have to lift a finger. I think one of the reasons she said "don't be mad at me" was because sometimes I had to be firm with her when she was contemplating making decisions I felt were unwise.

I'm not sure why but I had not been home to Indianapolis for two years but I had decided to come home for Labor Day weekend. As I do not believe in coincidences, I feel in retrospect that she passed away because finally all of he children were in town at the same time. My youngest sister had just turned twenty-one years old on August twelfth and I think Mom felt that her work as a mother was complete.

Another strange thing occurred a few monthes previous to Mom's passing. There was a photograph of my Mother that was taken in 1959 when she was twenty-one years old. She looks beautiful in the photo, dressed in a teal colored dress with her trademark red lipstick and painted nails. She had made copies of that photograph and had given or mailed a copy of it to all of her children.

My Mother did not have an easy life. I think her problems began in her childhood after the loss of her father when she was just thirteen years old.

My parents had a tumultuous relationship, having been married and divorced from each other twice. I feel as if my parents both loved each other and yet could not sustain a life living together. I'm sure my Father's alcoholism added a great strain to their marriages and the loss of a child at one year of age was more than their relationship could bear.

I also believe my Mother had longlasting  feelings  of guilt about giving custody of her first three children to my father. I now realize what a difficult decision that was for her and I wholeheartedly believe it was a sacrifice she made out of love for her children.

I'm not sure what my Mother's home life was like when she was growing up, but I have a feeling that there was not a lot of physical affection shown toward her from her Mother.

I think this lack of affection was passed down from her Mother to her and then to her children. I think it was difficult for my Mother to show physical affection. Consequently, showing physical affection has been an obstacle I have strived to overcome in my own life, as have my siblings to a greater or lesser degree.

My Mother was not a doting mother, we were not smothered with hugs, kisses and "I love yous" all the time, in fact,  rarely was that the case. I don't blame my Mother for this, I think she did the best she knew how to do.

After my parents second divorce, life became much harder for my Mom, physically, emotionally, and financially.

I have a portrait of my Mother that my youngest sister, Delpha, painted just a few monthes before Mom passed away. What I like most about the painting (which Delpha has so graciously given to me) is the despair etched in my Mother's face. She was exhausted by life, you can see it in her face in the painting, a true reflection of what she had endured in her life.

Ceratinly Mom had many happy moments in her life also. One of my favorite memories of being with her was a visit she made to Chicago in the mid-eighties to visit me and Michael. We took her and Delpha to the "Ripley"s Believe It or Not Museum." We were looking at a display case that housed  what they described as the world's smallest violin. Mom said "it is so small I can't even see it." Michael said to her "it's not down there it's up here." We roared with laughter because she was looking in the wrong place. When Mom laughed really hard, the laughter would make her eyes water, and this was one of those occasions. She laughed so hard it looked like she was crying. I love that memory, it still makes me smile.

In a way I am glad Mom wasn't around here physically to witness all that I have gone through medically which of course culminated in the loss of both of my legs. I would not have wanted her to add my physical burden to her already heavy load.

As I have stated before, I have a picture of my parents together that hangs in my bedroom. I talk to both of my parents all the time, asking for advice and for strength. I know their spirits are with me always, I take solace in knowing and feeling their spiritual presence.

Know Mom how much I Love and miss you on this sixteenth anniversary of your physical passing. Love, Glenn

Out and About

  It has been a while since I have written, I apologize for that, it's just that I have been busy. Being busy is a good thing these days, it means I have things to do and places to go.

I was at my sister Rhonda's house for six days at the beginning of August. As always I had a great time, floating around the pool, soaking up the sun, and eating like a pig. My thoughtful brother-in-law, Peter, built a ramp in the garage for my wheelchair to make getting into their house easier. While I was in Indy I got to see two of my dear friends, Mark and Jena along with Jena's little boy, Hudson.

Bill, yes that Bill, has been very kind and thoughtful with regard to picking me up and making sure I get out of my condo. Bill and I went to the Andersonville Farmers Market a couple of weeks ago. This was my first real venture out into my neighborhood since the loss of my second leg. I will admit I was a little selfconscious about being in my wheelchair, but more about that later.

Bill and I have also been out to eat three times. I appreciate the time and effort he puts forth to help me get out to see and be seen by other people. We went to see the movie "The Help" at the Northbrook Mall, even though it was a lot of wheeling through the mall, we had a good time.

I know how this may sound but I feel it is necessary to share my feelings. I'm not sure whether the feelings of selfconsciousness I have are normal for people in my situation or if perhaps I am overreacting. I feel like people are staring at me because I am in a wheelchair. I realize that people see others in wheelchairs all the time and probably don't give it a second thought, however, when it is you that is in that wheelchair it changes your entire perspective. These feelings of selfconsciouness are perhaps because since the loss of my second leg, I haven't really been out in the public all that much.

I think this adjustment will take some getting used to. Now you may be wondering, why is he talking so much about the wheelchair, what happened to the goal of walking? That goal is being accomplished a little bit more each and every day, but as I have discussed in previous blogs, these things take time. In the meantime it would behoove me to begin to get out and try to socialize more, learn to become more comfortable in my new circumstances.

As we know sometimes I am hard on myself, not allowing myself to have feelings of loss and the sadness that goes along with loss. I attempt to share my feelings with you honestly at all times, and if I acted like going out in public in my wheelchair didn't bother me, that would not be the honest truth. It does bother me.

The question then becomes which bothers me most, not getting out and socializing or staying home too much? One of the reasons I started this blog was to share my feelings with my readers, to let you know how I feel about what is going on in my life and how I cope with this monumental loss of my lower extrementies. Having said that,  sometimes my feelings are not all that pleasant. One of the most benefical aspects of this blog is that it is a carthartic means by which to vent my feelings. I thank you for allowing me to do that, as I feel it is a healthy approach to living a happier and more meaningful life.

I know that what I am going through, with respect to being seen in public in my wheelchair may be hard for you to understand. Some may think I am overreacting, why should I care if people stare? The more likely scenerio is that people aren't really staring at all and if they are it is just a passing thought.

My friend Steve has said to me on more than one occasion that he wished he could see himself through other (not another) eyes because he would like to know what he would think about what he saw. Another friend of Steves said to him, "me too I want to know what others think of me." Steve said to him, "I don't care what others think about me, I care about what I think about myself."  I love the fact that Steve doesn't care what others think--I want to be more like Steve in that respect. I shouldn't care what others think, I should care most about what I think.

Suffice it to say I am glad to be out and about and once again it  is yet another aspect of my adjustment that will take some time.   

     

What Does Walking Really Mean?

At my last physical therapy session, my physical therapist, Chris said that she had "caught up" on reading my blog. Of course she was, as she always is, very complimentary in her comments, however, she said that if she had read my blog and solely based on what I had written, she would be left with the opinion that I was unable to walk at all.

I think she got that impression because in much of my writing I refer to the word "walk" as if it were something I am going to accomplish in the future and not something I am accomplishing already. I take responsibility for that  impression because until she pointed this out to me, perhaps that IS how I am looking at the whole "walking thing."

I think it would  be of benefit to me if I changed not only the way I write about myself , but also how I feel about the whole concept of walking. It is true that I can stand up and I can move myself from one place to another while in an upright position, does that define walking? Previous to Chris' comments,  maybe I felt that I wasn't really walking because it is difficult and for now I am not walking as proficiently as I would like.

As I  have written about previously, I sometimes have a tendency to belittle my accomplishments, I suppose this whole personal concept I have of walking is an example of just that. My perception of walking and how I define it needs to be modified to reflect the accomplishments and give them their justifiable credit. Now this may all sound well and good, but I am not sure it will be as easy to implement in practice as it is to write about in words.

Sometimes the way we refer to a concept is a true reflection of how we really feel inside our own heads about that concept; given that precept, I feel some verbal as well as mental or intellectual restructuring may be not only required, but also be beneficial to improving my mental attitude and my performance in general.

I realize that most people, my age, and given my physical restraints are not able to do nearly as much as I am able to do. These declarations are not feelings that I am better than they are, far from it, but rather feelings  of appreciation and gratitude. When I refer to walking in the future tense and not the present tense than I am not acknowledging my appreciation, my accomplishments or expressing my gratitude. This is troubling to me and warrants closer examination, I want my writings and feelings to truly reflect how grateful and appreciative I really do feel inside.

Am I able to walk? Yes. Am I where I ultimately want to be? Not quite yet. Something a lot of people do not realize when you see someone who appears to walk well on one or two  prosthetic legs, is the fact that their accomplishments took a very long time to complete. As I have touched upon in previous blog entries, we have to be careful not to compare ourselves and our accomplishments to others. I know somewhere in this world there is a person in a similar situation as myself,  who probably wishes they were able to do what I am already able to do. This thought helps me put my life in it's proper perspective.

Thank you Chris for pointing out the fact that I am not referring to myself in the proper context that truly reflects my ability to walk and   acknowledges my accomplishments thus far.

Walking, what a wonderful gift we all take for granted. Walking, something I do and I appreciate being able to do, and hopefully my words and thoughts will reflect that appreciation in the future.

Dad's Seventy-Fifth Birthday

If my father were alive he would have turned seventy-five years old today. I remember fifteen years ago on Dad's sixtieth birthday we all had a surprise party for him. Everyone was there, all of his children, all of his grandchildren, his girlfriend and his only sister, Lynda.

My mother had passed away the year before, at the age of fifty-seven and I was determined  to have this celebration for my father's birthday, as my mother never realized her sixtieth birthday.

It was a wonderful event and Dad was quite surprised. I think of that party often and what a happy occasion it was. I think of my father frequently and the influence he had and has on my life. Dad was a troubled man in some respects and yet a wise and humorous man in a lot of other areas of his life.

I have thought many times about the fact that I  am glad neither one of my parents lived to see me go through the loss of my legs. I know how devastating it would have been for them to have seen one of their children  endure  such a traumatic ordeal.

I have one of the only photographs of my parents together, hanging in my bedroom,  I look at it and talk to my parents often. I ask them to help me, to give me strength and guidance. Sometimes I wonder would my parents be proud  of the way I have chosen to handle my leg loss situation. You know, I think they are proud, at least I hope they are.

In spite of all the drama that existed in my family, all the dysfunction, my parents did a good job raising all four of their children. My siblings are all good, loving and caring individuals. Mom and Dad despite all odds, instilled within all four of us the most important virtures of life. I am thankful for my parents.

I believe that my Mother and Father both endured a lot of hardships in their respective lives and yet they perservered. I think my strength and perservence comes in part from my parents and of course a great deal comes from God. My God and my parents what a perfect combination.

Despite my fathers's three failed marriages (two of them to my mother), losing a baby son many years ago, and losing three homes, he perservered. At the end of his life he had his own home and a seventeen year relationship with his live-in girlfriend On, the most successful relationship of his life.

I remember sitting with my Father during his final days, suffering from bone cancer, and he said to me, "this cancer thing wasn't part of the plan."

His starement really resonates with me now, this leg loss thing wasn't a part of my plan either. What would my Father have done if he were faced with the loss of both of his legs? I suspect he would have done exactly what I feel I am doing; remaining optimistic, diligently confronting the situation with determination and perservence.

I am not foolish enough to have canonized my Father, in the wake of his death, putting him on a pedestal, however, there are so many things about the way he lived his life that make me proud to be his son. I know in my heart, he sees and realizes what I go through in my day to day life.

Both my Mother and my Father have greatly influenced the type of person I am today and for that I am truly thankful.

Happy Birthday Pop, I miss talking to you but I know you are always watching over me now and forever.