I hadnât thought about that for over a decade. The only reason it came to mind is that a week ago I broke my distal right fibula (the smaller bone in your calf, broken right above the ankle). Because of this, I have had occasion to learn that crutches are simply glorified chopsticks on steroids with rubber tips at the bottom. Staying true to the skill sets I was born with, I am nearly incapable of operating them.
My right foot is totally non-weight-bearing at the moment, so walking with crutches is essentially an exercise in learning to ambulate as a tripod, with only one leg out of three capable of doing any of the real work. Swing the crutches forward with the tops pushing into your ribs (NOT armpits) while standing on your good leg. Push forward with your good leg, doing a mini-pole vault that brings your good foot as equal to the bottom of the crutches as your acrobatic skills allow. Repeat. After about six cycles of this, I will have moved about three feet.
Going through doors is a particular challenge. To be stable, the crutches need to be set at angles to either side of your body. When you get to a doorway the angle you can hold the crutches at becomes quite acute, and stability is compromised. Fortunately the doorframe will hold the wounded upright if she sways to the left of the right. Swaying to the front or back is not advised.
Amazingly, this is not my first stint with crutches, although it is the first time the offending leg has been forbidden to take any weight. If I could employ my right foot just a teeny-tiny bit I know Iâd be fine. But two giant chopsticks are insufficient to guarantee that another unfortunate tumble will not befall me. For that reason I fell back to the walker that I had from after the transplant. That ups the points of contact with the ground from three (all of which work independently of the other) to five (four of which have to coordinate with each other because they are attached together).
Ironically (at least in my eyes) my right foot is in a so-called âwalking bootâ. Why itâs a walking boot when Iâm not allowed to walk on it makes the whole set up a kind of an oxymoron. With luck, the walking boot will live up to its name in another week or so. Meanwhile itâs more of a lead-weight-that-wraps-securely-around-my-right-foot-and-makes-it-hard-to-hold-the-leg-off-the-floor-while-attempting-to-move boot.
First up is a nice picture of the walking boot. Next up is a nice picture of what it contains.
