Now, this is a story all about how my [foot] got flipped-turned upside down...
As the last few posts have been related to prostheses, more or less, this story continues that theme. In honor of me pretty much breaking my crutches (again), I began reflecting on some other times throughout my life that I was very glad and lucky to have broken mechanical parts, and not real bones.
In fact, I have never broken a bone before - and going to try to keep it that way!
Iāve broken or bent my crutches more times than Iād care to admit (sorry, mom), from bending the cuffs to snapping the handles to the pole stabbing a hole through the rubber tips... One time a few years ago, I was playing soccer with my older brother. You think you can guess the ending? Try again.
We were running after the ball, fighting for it, and he ran straight through - yes, through - my crutch. He will forever say that IĀ ātried to trip himā, as siblings do, but thatās not how it really happened, though the debate will withstand the test of time. He ran through it.Ā
Did it break his leg? No. A fracture? No. Even a bruise? Nope. This dudeās bones were so strong that rather than the crutch damaging his leg, his leg BENT the crutch past the point of functionality.Ā
It was at this time that I tried (though I had failed every time in the past) to convince my mom to let me get my next pair of crutches in the color lime green. It was middle school. Neon was a thing. But my mom was smarter than that, and saved me a lot of future embarrassment as that phase ended soon after, so thanks for having my back, Mom!
Another one of my favorite disastrous stories actually happened at school. I was in the fifth grade, playing on the playground, and I landed on my prosthetic leg the wrong way. As a result, my left (prosthetic, to clarify) foot twisted around backwards and snapped at the ankle - to the point where I could actually spin it 360 degrees. I wasnāt too concerned with it, of course. It was difficult to walk on, but who needs a second one anyway, right? I continued through my day, getting even more stares than usual, but the most shocking part of my day came at the very end during carpool.
As my dad arrived, driving through the line to pick me up from school, a teacher approached me as I was climbing into the car, foot dangling. This teacher, bless her heart, didnāt know that my leg was fake. She PANICKED. She went straight up to my dad and said, āYou need to take your daughter to a hospital right now!!! Look at her ankle!!!ā
And my dad, casual as usual, looked out the window to see my left foot, laughed a little, and said,Ā āItāll be fine. Iāll stop by Home Depot and fix it in my garage later.ā
I swear her soul left her body. She was speechless. I hopped in the car and we drove home. It wasnāt until a few days later that my parents actually explained the situation to the poor woman.
Context, ladies and gentlemen. Itās important.