Wednesday, January 7, 2009

Claustrophobia and near panic

and the question is:

What happens to G2 when her prosthesis jams on.

Scenario: Got up with a million things to do. Fed animals in the bathrobe, coat and boot (yes, Henry was very happy). Came in and started dressing. Shirt? check. Jeans? I take my leg off to put the pant leg on from the top of the leg and pull down. Then put the leg on, button, zip and done. Oops, Houston we have a problem. As soon as I bore weight I knew there was a huge problem. However, now I couldn't get the latch to release ME from the leg. This has happened before and I always get a bit panic stricken. I jiggled, I wiggled. No luck. I then managed to release my "residual limb" (politically correct way to say "stump") from the liner, but still could not get the liner from the socket. Now I am sweating. I call the prosthetics shop, knowing that I cannot be the only one this has happened to and that they will walk me through some kind of emergency release. Nope. Can I get in there? I am sitting at the computer. No pants. No crutches. Bummed up right leg that has me not wanting to hop. Slick car port even if I could get my crutches and shorts on. Not to worry. James, the technician, will drive the 30 minutes to my house and fix it. I look around. The house is really a mess. (This is why I have always had a clean house; you never know when something might come up.) I tell them to let me find a way in. I will call them back. At this point I am really starting to freak out. I can feel whatever it is that has jammed the mechanism. If I can just get it out. I now decide to hop. Down the hall and into my bathroom to grab some hemostats. On the way back I stop and grab the crutches and some shorts. I wiggle, I jiggled, I yell, the dogs cringe. Then? SUCCESS!!!!! The universe is once again in alignment. I am exhausted and feel, and look, like I have run a marathon. With excitement and utter relief I call the shop back and let them know that all is well. I will be picking up the little two pronged tool that removes the valve that holds me into my leg.

Now I will go back to cleaning. And I will take a nap. Too much adrenalin. Now quit your laughing!


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