I’ve been working lately on building a Web site for my prosthetist, which has given me the opportunity to explore some interesting issues related to my own disability. A few days ago we were going over some potential photography for the site, and one of the images was of a young and healthy looking guy sitting on a park bench, wearing an above-the-knee leg prosthetic. The look on his face really spoke to me: despite his obvious “handicap”, he was smiling and happy and not hindered in the slightest.
My prosthetist mentioned that the image might be too specific – communicating that he only handled leg prosthetics.“You may be right,” I said, with sudden realization, “But it’s his expression that matters. What we want to communicate is not about the prosthetic, it’s about the result of the prosthetic. This guy has lost a leg, but his quality of life is intact.”We talked about it some more, and we concluded that in this case it wasn’t even necessary to show one prosthetic or another in the site’s imagery. Communicating the quality-of-life idea was paramount. People were what mattered.
After so many years and after being fitted for so many leg prostheses myself, this experience really brought home to me what an emotional process it can be. Thanks to my prosthetic limb (and to my wonderful prosthetist, Kevin Calvo), I can walk straight and true and without a limp – most people I know don’t even realize I wear it. That’s important, but for me how I feel inside is another key component. I still, at a very deep level, feel a small sense of shame at having to deal with my disability – as if my prosthetic is the physical manifestation of an “other-ness” I can never escape.
That’s not true, of course, but the only way I can process those feelings is to make them part of the fitting process. I’m lucky that Kevin and I can talk about this easily, and I have no doubt that my leg prosthesis is better as a result.
Like the guy on the bench, today I am smiling and happy and unhindered. And just as I continually need to fit and adjust my prosthesis, so too must I continually work on the emotional issues that go with it.
One Comment
I like your introspection on this. You are more aware because of your prosthesis, however what you feel is not unique to one who has a prosthesis, rather you in a way have a heightened sense of awareness which serves you well. Thanks for sharing.
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