Chores as Celebration: Prosthetic Update
Feeling the Fear
As I chronicled in my previous post, I’ve been thrown into the deep end of the prosthetic pool and learning to swim the hard way. Every morning now, I put on my undies, my shirt - and my leg. Because I’m new to the process, it still takes me about 20 minutes to secure the limb to my satisfaction, but I know things will get easier as I adjust to my new friend.
When I went to the second fitting for my prosthetic on August 14, 2025, I was confident I’d be walking out - there’s no other way to describe it. Something deep inside me, perhaps God’s Holy Spirit, knew the time was right - and it was. John rolled the liner onto my leg, then the suspension sleeve. I slid my stump into the socket and heard the click - this was it! I stood and felt the squeeze of pressure on my stump. Although the prosthetic only weighs about 3 pounds, it felt like 20 for the limb that had literally been hanging around for three months.
As I left Hanger Clinic of Greenville with my new prosthetic leg, I felt relief, joy, and something unexpected - fear. For months, all I focused on was the end goal of receiving this new device, which I imagined would fix all of my problems. What would happen should I fail to adapt to it?
Cane & Able
For the first week, the cane was a necessity. I was elated to finally have the prosthetic, but it was more painful than I anticipated. I felt like a newborn deer, unsteady on my feet and entering a new world with both curiosity and trepidation. Imagine having to think - really actively concentrate - on each breath in order to stay alive. I had to place a great deal of thought into each step, focusing on heel-toe, heel-toe, so that I didn’t trip and fall. There is a mental discipline required alongside the physical, and each is exhausting in its own way.
Reclaiming My Humanity - with a Vacuum
One of the first things I did when I got home was vacuum my bedroom floor. As I heard the crunch of three months’ worth of dust, grass, and food crumbs being sucked up, I felt immense gratitude at simply being able to participate in this mundane chore. With this small act, I felt as though I was reclaiming my very humanity.
Being on crutches for three months humbled me. It forced me to recognize my fragility in the face of instability. God had to put me in a “timeout” of sorts to show me that I don’t have to do everything myself. It’s okay to be a human being and to need other people sometimes. We all go through seasons of need, and seasons of giving. This is part of the human experience.
“Bear ye one another’s burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ.”
Scripture is replete with passages about helping one another. We are to help everyone - friends, neighbors, enemies. My desire to be as self-sufficient as possible can be a good thing. I’m a proud, productive member of society instead of a drain on others’ time and resources. No one who knows me would dare call me lazy or unreliable. However, pride truly goeth before a fall. In the past, my prideful predilection for turning myself into an island has prevented me from hearing and considering the advice of friends and family who only had my best interests at heart.
Interdependence
I now know that rather than being totally independent, I must be interdependent. I recognize that from time to time, I must yield to the wisdom of others. I must allow others to help me. Yet I still maintain the confidence and self-esteem to assert myself when the situation calls for it. I am immensely grateful for all the gifts and prayers I received during my downtime. And my angel of a neighbor, Susan, essentially became my taxi for weeks to make sure I was able to escape the house every day - I’ll never feel like I can fully repay her kindness. But during this time of rest and reflection, I allowed others to help me - and now, as I heal and recover thanks to the grace of God, I will be able to pass along this kindness. That’s interdependence.
On the Road Again
My 2023 Mazda Miata is my pride and joy. She’s a 6 speed, sporty convertible with a loud, booming exhaust - and I drive her with passion.
So when I lost my leg, I wondered whether I’d have to sell her and get an automatic vehicle - the very thought repulsed me! I’ve never owned an automatic transmission vehicle, and never want to. Driving a manual and truly feeling the engine, knowing it like a friend, being responsive to its signals brings me joy.
I was afraid.
Then one day, I hopped behind the wheel. I placed my prosthetic on the pedal and cautiously backed out of my carport.
I was amazed - I was driving! I expected the process of learning to drive to be an arduous, weeks-long struggle wherein a physical therapist would advise me on best methods. God truly answered my prayer and it was incredibly easy! It still surprises me how I can essentially feel the pedal just as before. It’s difficult to explain, but even though I don’t have that right foot, I have enough sensation to determine the distance from my shoe to the gas. Now, I’m not ready for a cross-country adventure, but I can finally drive myself to the gym, the grocery store, and all around town. I felt a weight lifted from me and a huge chunk of anxiety dissipated instantly.
All of a sudden, chores like dropping off Amazon returns at Staples became a celebration of my freedom and progress!
I’ve never been happier to be able to run errands.
I’ll continue to post prosthetic updates, whether they’re speed bumps or celebrations. If you have any questions about the process, especially if you or a loved one are in the recovery stages of an amputation, feel free to set up a time to consult with me; I would be happy to discuss it further with you.
