Saturday, June 20, 2009

No News Is Okay News, or No Foot For Me

That's a scar, mate! The scab on the right side is holding up The Show.

I made my first prosthetic fitting trip to Floyd Brace in North Chuck (Charleston) on June 17, 9 weeks and one day after my right foot amputation. As noted in a previous post, I was hoping for the best, especially considering how some amputees seem to be able to run 6 to 8 weeks after amputation. I still find this hard to believe, but then I want to be one of those runners right now.

Having grown up doing all things boy, I have a body full of scars except for several hard-earned stripes that vanished when my foot was amputated. I suppose I need to list all of my specimens, but that should be a separate post. My favorite one was under the right big toe from bullfrog catching, that day is as clear to me as when it happened over 50 years ago. Again, a post for later. What this tangent is about is I know a thing or two about scars and healing and why I think it will be 10 - 14 days before my incision has healed enough for my prosthetic fitting.

Larry, my CP, took a close look at my incision and noted the one scab was not raised, which indicated deeper healing was underway and we should indeed continue to wait. Here my wishful/wistful thinking collided with reality, and I am going to do nothing to insist that we move forward until all systems are at go.

I did meet the local rep for Freedom Innovations at Floyd Brace, makers of a number of popular and successful prosthetic feet, including the Nitro Running foot, one on my list to consider when the time comes to get my running blade, which shall be known as Jato. Ossur also has some terrific running feet; the Flex-Run is likely the one I would choose although I understand some distance runners use the Cheetah.


It still seems like forever before I will get my walking and running prosthetic feet although I know it will only be a week or two. The small miracle that I will be able to run again from the here and now appears to be a mirage at times. I do feel a bit like I am in purgatory, waiting for the green light to move on.


Ah, to hear the a capella din of runners gathering at the starting line, who suddenly grow silent as they lean toward a single voice:

Runners take your mark.

Get set.


And that, my friends, is music for the passion.

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