Saying goodbye to the various nurses, doctors and other hospital staff who had spent the last few months looking after me was actually quite emotional. Perhaps because of the small team that worked in the unit I had been kept in, we had all gotten to know each other very well.
How do I drive with one leg?
Are there any feet with movable toes?
Have I ever taken a drink from my prosthetic leg?
During the summer of my eighteenth year, we were experiencing an uncharacteristically hot spell. A group of us had just left the shop after buying cold drinks and a box of ice lollies. We planned to make our way into the woods to a nearby picnic site. It wasn’t secret per se but it also wasn’t obviously marked in any way so you could usually guarantee it wouldn’t be full.
As we trekked through the woods a groaning sound suddenly erupted from the back of the group…
Has the whole experience left me with a stronger “mind over matter” attitude?
Do people who have prosthetic limbs still wear knee or elbow pads?
Have I ever managed to successfully disguise myself as a lamp?
I was starting to feel a whole lot more human again and although I was still being monitored for several things (I can’t remember what they were and am not absolutely sure I knew even back then), my doctors were very happy with the progress that was being made…
What’s happening to all my door frames? Do I need to start wearing different underwear?
Once I was let out into the big wide world it became clear that there were a number of unexpected (and often ridiculously simple) issues that I would now be needing to consider.
I spent a good deal of my childhood wandering around the forests that surrounded my home in the Highlands of Scotland. Every weekend I would grab an old video camera and head out into the wilderness with a group of school friends where we could make short films about whatever was on our minds that day…
One thing I was allowed to do now that I was making progress in my recovery, was go out into the real world. That didn’t mean a quick breath of cold air by the doorway of the hotel or a roll around the hospital grounds but actually out into the city…
How do you maintain and keep them (prostheses) clean?
Has having one leg provided an opportunity that otherwise would not have come about?
Do you name your legs?
After weeks of lying in bed, the freedom of getting in a wheelchair had been one of the greatest feelings I’d had in a very long time. However, this had simply been a stepping stone, something to keep me moving forwards until I was ready for what came next…