| You can
either accept a disability or struggle as a challenge, or you can feel sorry for yourself and give up. It's your choice. |
|
| Home | |
| My Story | |
| Disability-Challenge or Defeat | |
| Just Some Thoughts | |
| Post Polio Syndrome | |
| CareGivers | |
| Post Polio Information & Links | |
Steel Toes & Torn KneesWhat do you do when you are a 7-8 year old boy who loves the outdoors, thoroughly enjoys baseball, but now has to walk with braces and crutches? You either will be a passive spectator or you find a way to participate. I chose the latter. Before I had polio I played outside as much as my lungs would allow. Building roads for toy trucks, digging holes, playing hide and seek, cowboys and indians, army men, and whatever else I could dream, up were part of my life. Sometimes my parents would play catch with me or pitch to me while I tried to bat the ball. After I contracted polio I didn't want to give up any of those activities -- not if I could help it. By the time I started the second grade I had gained enough strength and balance that I could walk fairly well with braces and crutches. That was quite an accomplishment and I was glad to be rid of the wheelchair. However, as much as I enjoyed the freedom of walking, I never could figure out how to play on my feet. So the logical thing to do was to play on my knees. I might crawl on all fours or I might walk upright on my knees. Sometimes I would sit down and scoot. (That was the best way to tackle a long flight of stairs!) The day we were to have our first fire-drill in the second grade, the teacher got my mom aside to express her concern over how I would get out of the room; I did walk rather slowly. Mom told her not to worry. She suggested that everyone else file out first, then I could follow on my knees. The teacher wasn't sure, but she was willing to see if it would work. When the alarm went off everyone started filing out. Well, I didn't want to be last. I wanted to show that I could keep up with everyone else, so I slipped out of my desk onto the floor and began crawling. I crawled as fast as I could, snaking in and out of the line of kids like a driver on an obstacle course weaving between a line of cones. By the time most of the kids made it to the door I was sitting on the steps outside holding the door open for them. During the spring, when my lung condition would allow me to go outside for recess, we often played baseball. I would stand upright on my knees in order to bat. Most of the time I could connect with the ball. I would then crawl the bases on my hands and knees. I tried to go as fast as I could, not only so I wouldn't be put out, but also so that my fingers would not get stepped on by someone running up to tag me. Fielding was not so easy. I played in field mostly --sometimes I pitched, other times I played third base. Unfortunately, the field was covered with fine gravel. Between play at school and at home, my mother was constantly having to patch tears in the knees of my jeans. She soon decided to try to reinforce the knees of my pants with iron-on patches before I ever wore them. My shoes did not survive any better than my jeans. I never wore the soles of my shoes out, but I put holes in the toes of my shoes all the time! It would only take a couple of months for a new pair of orthopedic shoes to have a hole in the toes. My brace-maker finally came up with the idea of making a steel cover for the toes of my shoes. My mother still had to try to patch my jeans, but at least the expense of replacing shoes was over. |