Monday, December 15, 2014

Monday (12/15/2014)

Update:

After evaluating my knee today, my physical rehab doctor has scheduled me for an MRI next Tuesday (12/23).  She suspects I may have a torn meniscus (cartilage between the femur and the tibia).  The MRI will help determine if that is my problem.  If it is, then we have to decide a course of treatment.  Unfortunately, there doesn’t seem to be a sure bet, “this will definitely work,” kind of treatment.  My age and being an amputee also works against me.  So we will just have to see where this leads.  Another possibility is that I have developed arthritis on the patella.  Once again, there is no perfect treatment that would certainly work in my case.

The doctor and I decided to postpone turning my test socket in to have my new permanent leg made until we get answers and a treatment plan.  If treatment and recovery take a few weeks, a month, or more, then it makes sense to wait to double check the fit of the test socket before making the leg.  If we didn’t, then worst case is that I have a long recovery before I can walk and the newly made leg doesn’t fit anymore and another new one would have another one built (wasting the new leg).  So, I guess I am not getting a new leg for Christmas after all…Bah! Humbug!  My guess is that I will be wearing this creaky old test socket into the New Year. 

Last year when I had my amputation, the doctor signed a form so that I could get handicap vehicle plates.  At the time I chose to just get the little placard that hangs from the rearview mirror.  I guess I wasn’t ready to hang that identification on me everywhere I go.  I also wasn’t certain how much I would need handicap parking.  I had pictured in my mind that I would need it for a few months and then I’d get my leg and never need it again.  It certainly hasn’t turned out like that for me.  Distance restrictions on my walking, pain if I overuse my leg, and being restricted to a wheelchair about ¼ of the time have me using the handicap placard all the time.  I don’t foresee that changing anytime in the future; so I’ve decided to get the handicap plates.  That way I don’t have to keep putting the placard up every time I park and then taking it back down whenever I drive.   After three or four stops, it gets to be a hassle.  I guess you could say that I am finally coming to terms with the fact that I am an amputee and always will be. 


Karen and I went to the grocery store after my doctor’s appointment.  I pulled into an empty handicap spot right next to a car that had just parked.  An older man got out and waited for his wife who had some difficulty walking.  As he waited, he glared angrily at us.  I’m certain that he figured I was just some lazy guy grabbing a close parking spot and had no right to be using a handicap slot.  I’ve had this happen to my quite often actually.  I certainly am not perfect at doing this; but these kind of encounters remind me not to judge other people by outward appearance or at first glance.  You really don’t know what is going on until you get to know someone.  So don’t jump to conclusions!  I am certain that I confuse some people when I park in a handicap spot at the gym, use a cane to walk inside and then workout for 90 minutes.  Using the handicap spot allows me to do more than I could if I had to park out farther and then walk in.  I only have so much strength (and allowed so many steps per day).  When I use up my allotment—I’m done.  So the handicap parking helps me stretch it out and do more with what I’ve got.  People get it if I climb out of the truck and into a wheelchair; I think it doesn’t cross their minds to think about restrictions and limits.  I have to admit that sometimes I wonder why a person has a handicap plate when I see them get out at a store; but I know enough to realize that I don’t know everything about them and their medical condition—so I just shrug my shoulders, wish them well, and go on with my day.

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