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Elizabeth© 2002 Elizabeth all rights reserved Hi! My name is Elizabeth. I grew up in the Keystone State (Pennsylvania), I lived in Virginia for several years, and now Vermont is my home. My mother has told me that she felt sorry for herself
for a little while on the day I was born, but not for long. She
In order to be fitted with a
prosthesis, I went to Elizabethtown Children's Hospital and Rehabilitation
Center, over an hour away from our rural home. I was fitted with a passive
"mitt" at 11 months and received my first functional prosthesis (with
a hook terminal device) at 20 months. On the long drive home
after getting that first working prosthesis, Mom had no idea how she was going
to teach me to open it; it's kind of hard to explain to someone who’s too
young to have a conversation! After we had returned home, she was still devising
a plan when she noticed me in the next room, opening and closing the prosthesis
all by myself. She was pretty relieved that I had figured it out on my own.
This prosthesis squeaked when
it opened. One time when we were going somewhere, I was in the passenger seat,
and she could see some activity on my side of the car. She watched me repeat the
following sequence several times: open prosthesis, hear squeak; open right hand,
hear no squeak; frown. She cracked up when I kept scowling at my right hand for
not "working." I have been asked by new
parents of congenital amputees how my family referred to my "little"
arm. I’m afraid that what happened in my case will not be very useful to
anyone looking for guidance. My family just said "left arm" until I
was 3 or 4 – that is, until I was old enough to give it my own name: Joey. And
in order for Joey not to feel left out, I named the rest of my limbs as well and
gave her a little family. She had a mom, a brother, and a sister – I'll spare
you their names. As I neared kindergarten, Mom
had some misgivings about me being confronted all at once with so many kids who
had never seen me. She wasn't sure what their reaction, or mine, would be. So
she invited my soon-to-be-classmates over to our house in small groups to play
with me the summer preceding kindergarten. People don't move in or out of our
home town very often, so those kids I met in kindergarten remained my classmates
until I moved away in the middle of high school, and Mom never had to go through
that exercise again. Around the same time, my big
sister was taking piano lessons, and I asked Mom if I could take them, too. I
had no idea what a dilemma this was for her. She wouldn't dream of telling me I
couldn't learn to play the piano, but who was she going to get to teach me how?
Through a series of contacts she hooked up with a man in a nearby community
whose left arm was disabled by polio. He explained to our piano teacher how to
instruct me. I would play one note from the bass clef with my left hand, pick up
any remaining bass clef notes that I could reach with my right hand, and drop
the rest out. It worked! I took piano lessons for about eight years. I did
pretty well, despite going to many a lesson without having practiced. (I wish I
could blame that on my arm!) I have tons of happy
memories from my childhood. I had lots of friends, and we had a lot of fun
together. My terminal device (a CAPP, which I used for about 20 years) had a
rubber covering with bumps on it for gripping. In elementary school my friends
would ask me to squeeze their fingers so they would get little depressions all
over them -- which we termed "chicken pox." So the request I
frequently heard was, "Give me chicken pox!" As a rule I never hit anyone
with my prosthesis. However, on the school bus there was a boy one grade ahead
of me and about three times my size, Judd, who was somewhat of a bully. One day
I guess I decided that Judd needed some sense knocked into him, and I conked him
right over the head. I don't remember what provoked this attack, but I am fairly
sure that’s the only time I used my prosthesis as a weapon. I also have good memories from my trips to
Elizabethtown. My prosthetist, Jack Smith, was truly a gem. He did everything he
could to help us. The first time the string that operates the pulley mechanism
inside the prosthesis broke, Mom made the trek to Elizabethtown to have it
fixed. She figured, though, that if some human being put the thing together, she
should be able to take it apart and do the same. Jack agreed. He showed her what
to do and sent her home with a supply of extra string. She put together a repair
"kit" complete with string, rivets, an Allen wrench, tiny scissors,
wire, a tiny screwdriver, needle-nosed pliers, and other goodies. From then on
she always took care of my broken strings herself, and we never went on a trip
without “the kit.” In return we tried to do our
part to help Jack and his other patients. Jack was pleased that I was such a
physical kid and was able to do a wide variety of activities, so at his request
we would come talk to parents and kids who he thought would benefit from our
experience. Twice we made the trip when I didn't even have an appointment. The
hospital shot a film of me doing various activities, such as riding my Big
Wheel, playing the piano, and tying my shoes. They showed this film to amputees
and their families for several years (probably until a “mini-me” came
along). Growing up on the farm I
played outside constantly, getting pretty filthy in the process. Thus, my mother
periodically scrubbed my prosthesis with Comet. One time Mom was in the kitchen
with her best friend and two business associates while I was upstairs getting
ready for bed. I yelled goodnight to Mom and added, "My arm's dirty!"
– a commonly heard statement in our house, to which Mom made her normal reply,
"Leave it out in the hallway and I'll scrub it with Comet." But she
forgot that there were people in her kitchen who didn’t know me, and they were
horrified at this! Mom and her friend just laughed at them. I’ve always had lots of
hobbies and interests. Some activities I have enjoyed at different times in my
life include basketball, gymnastics, church-related activities, and music
(trumpet, piano, singing, marching band, orchestra – you name it). I started
on the trumpet in 5th grade and played all throughout high school and
college in every ensemble I could find. Brass instruments (trumpet, French horn,
trombone, baritone, tuba, etc.) are a fantastic choice for one-handed musicians
because – besides the fact that they are cool, especially for girls – they
need little to no adaptation. I have my right hand and did not have to adapt my
instrument or the method of playing for the trumpet. Some instrument
manufacturers are happy to make adaptations if you need them, however. I have also been in the
workforce since age 16, working summers in high school and part-time throughout
college, and working full-time in the non-profit sector for the last 9 years.
Office work presents no obstacles for an amputee, but you might be surprised to
learn that as a teenager I worked as a hotel housekeeper. Nowadays, I still wear
my arm (with a hook terminal device) pretty often because I find it useful
having two "hands" of an equal length to grasp things. Some tasks I
find it especially helpful for are driving, typing, folding laundry, riding
bike, and playing the piano. There are also things that I find easier to do
without it, like playing basketball, slicing/chopping food, and holding a baby,
and it’s more comfortable not having it on. I am getting pretty good at tying
my shoes and zipping up my coat without my prosthesis on.
(Obviously, I learned to do these things with my prosthesis at the same
age as everyone else, in elementary school.) My husband is a college
professor at a private liberal arts school.
He has a PhD in ethics and a Master of Divinity. We met in college, and
we knew almost immediately that it was meant to be. He is smart, handsome,
strong, and he adores me. We have the kind of love that most people dream about.
We are the proud parents of two cats, Annie and Taylor (sister and brother), and
a dog, Dugan. Being an amputee is not a big
deal to me. It has not had a significant impact on the things I have done in my
life, but at the same time it has helped make me the person I am. And as I grow
older, I realize that to many people, the idea of it being "no big
deal" to be an amputee may be impossible to understand. That’s why I want
to be available as a resource for anyone (especially families of children with
amputations similar to mine) who may have questions or concerns. I am on the
I-CAN list, so if you subscribe to I-CAN and send a message to the list, I will
see it. Or you may email me privately. No question is too big or too small!
Elizabeth
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A very special
THANK YOU to Wyatt and Michelle who are the proud parents of Joe
(RBE) for donating the www.child-amputee.net domain and web space.
Copyright © 2004
International Child Amputee Network
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quickly realized it could have been much worse: I was physically and mentally
healthy, just missing part of my left arm below the elbow. She was right; being
an amputee has n
