Update:
I spent
three hours at the prosthetist’s office on Wednesday. We talked about my current problems,
evaluated my leg and current test socket, discussed options, weighed pros/cons,
etc. for a long time. We finally decided
to make a new test socket with some significant design changes. So Leah made a plaster cast of my leg, took
measurements and was going to fill the mold right after I left to make the
necessary adjustments before sending it off to the lab to be fabricated (about
1½ hours of work). I have another long
appointment scheduled with her next Thursday to do the initial fit of the new
socket. This socket will still use the
pin suspension system but the weight bearing areas will be vastly different
than the current one. So far my sockets
have been a Patellar-Tendon-Bearing
(PTB) design. Much of the weight is
carried on the tendon just below the patella (knee cap). The new socket is designed so that much more
of my leg will bear the weight since I’ve had trouble with my knee.
After a
couple of weeks of testing, we’ll evaluate how well it is fitting and how much
pain it is causing me, etc. If we
haven’t made significant progress in that time frame, we’ll start over and
switch to an entirely different design system and see what results we get. The next attempt will be a vacuum system
suspension. It actually has an electric
pump built into the leg to create a vacuum inside of it. The vacuum holds the leg on instead of the
pin as in my current system.
I’m trying
to think of a way to describe what trying to fit a prosthesis is like. One example is how the same size of pants may
fit you in one brand and that same size rides up and pinches you in another
brand. Or shoes can be the same
way. Certain shoes are comfortable and
other shoes are not, although they are the same size. Now imagine that shoes didn’t come
pre-assembled and you had to select all the various pieces and have them put
together. That could make getting a
comfortable pair of shoes much more difficult.
A prosthesis has to fit the user to exacting standards. There are so many variations in people’s legs
and so many options in prosthetic parts that the task is monumental. A prosthetist has the knowledge basis and
experience to get pretty close to what is needed; but there is always tweaking
that needs to be done to get a fit that is comfortable and functional.
I am so very
thankful that I’ve got a great working relationship with my prosthetist. She knows her trade and I feel like I am in
good hands. I always come away from her
office feeling hopeful and encouraged.
With so many unknown variables entering into the mix, I’m pleased that I
have someone in whom I have complete confidence. I always feel like I am being taken good care
of by her and by all the staff at her office.
Although I’ve learned a lot in the past year, there is so much that I
don’t know about prosthetic legs—it’s nice to be able to rely upon someone with
a whole lot more knowledge and experience than me (and who probably knows my
leg better than I do).
One of the
things that I’ve noticed in the last few weeks is that my left thigh is smaller
in diameter than my right leg. I’ve been
wondering what is going on. Was this due
to wearing the silicone liner and prosthesis or what? My prosthetist said that the thigh muscles
have atrophied. I asked if this was
normal for amputees. She said that it
should not be happening to me because I’ve been walking and exercising with it. It is most likely due to the fact that I am
experiencing pain in that leg and so unknowingly I am favoring it allowing my
whole right leg to do most of the work. Once I
get a good fit on my prosthesis and the pain is gone, I should be able to work
on that leg and build it back up.
Thought for the Day:
“Avoid
weatherproofing. The idea of
weatherproofing as it pertains to peaceful living is a metaphor to explain one
of our most neurotic, ungrateful tendencies.
It comes from…Dr. George Pransky.
Just as we can weatherproof a home for the winter by looking for cracks,
leaks, and imperfections, we can also weatherproof our relationships, even our
lives, by doing the very same thing.
Essentially, weatherproofing means that you are on the careful lookout
for what needs to be fixed or repaired.
It is finding the cracks and flaws of life, and either trying to fix
them, or at least point them out to others.
Not only does this tendency alienate you from other people, it makes you
feel bad, too. It encourages you to
think about what is wrong with everything and everyone—what you don’t
like. So rather than appreciating our relationships
and our lives, weatherproofing encourages us to end up thinking that life isn’t
all it’s cracked up to be. Nothing is
ever good enough the way it is.” [Richard Carlson, Don’t Sweat the Small
Stuff].
It seems to
be a gift in some people to only see the cloud and never the silver
lining. If you are infested with nits, I
guess it would be good to be surrounded by nit-pickers; but it doesn’t mean
that it is pleasant. Growing up, my
parents were weatherproofers. I’m better
than I used to be but I became a weatherproofer too!
I know from
personal experience that nobody likes to have someone continually point out
their flaws. And a person with a
critical spirit who is constantly pointing out flaws is usually a dissatisfied
person too.
When I lived
in Georgia, I worked for a drywall contractor.
A favorite topic among the workers was how air-tight a home should
be. They all wanted a home that could
breathe a bit. Obviously Georgia winters are different than up here in
Wisconsin; but the idea was getting some fresh, clean air in the home wasn’t a
bad thing. They were afraid of shutting
in all cold and flu germs if the house was air-tight. I guess that relationships need some breathing
room as well.
So far in my
life, I have never found a perfect person, business, church, or
organization. Every one of them has
flaws. Even the best has some flaws, so
why would I keep looking and expecting perfection? That kind of expectation really does kill
your ability to enjoy everything you are involved in. I’m not against encouraging improvement; but
it is all too easy to focus too intently on the flaws and overlook all the good
that surrounds us.
I’ve heard
psychologists say something like, “for every one complaint or negative thing we
say to someone, it takes seven positive statements to overcome the one negative
one.” The idea is that for every
complaint or correction we make to our child, it takes seven positive,
affirming comments to bring them back to an emotional balance. What is your average ratio of positive to
negative comments or thoughts?
Here is my
take: Weatherproofing your home is a good thing. Weatherproofing your relationships--not so
much.
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