I interrupt my trip down memory lane to bring you this news:
Today I took my first steps on my running leg.
It does look strange, doesn’t it? It feels a little strange to wear it, to tell the truth, but not as strange as I thought it would. Or perhaps strange in a different way.
Actually, the strangest thing about it was how normal it felt. It looks like it should feel weird to walk on, but it doesn’t. When I first stood up on it, I was braced against the possibility of rolling backwards, or something. But that didn’t happen.
A little education here: every prosthesis, when it’s first put on, feels strange. That’s because each leg has to be adjusted to the individual who wears it. There’s hundreds of tiny little adjustments that can–and need–to be made to get the leg to fit and perform correctly. Things like pronation, toe angle, length, heel strike, all need to considered and adjusted so that my gait is as natural as possible.
The way that’s done these days is with what’s called a ‘check socket.’ It’s a lighter weight version of the socket on my current prosthesis, and is used to make sure the leg fits right before they make the actual prosthesis. The post and foot (the hardware of the leg) are attached to it, and the prosthetist* makes all his adjustments while I’m wearing this version. It usually takes a couple of weeks to make sure everything’s working well. Once we’re satisfied, they take the hardware off the check socket, and bolt it to the finalized version.
Technically, every time I get a new leg, we’re supposed to go through the whole process, right from the casting, but since we already knew this part was working fine, we used it to make my swimming leg, and so why not save time and do the same for this one as well?
Ron, my prosthetist,** was possibly as excited as I was about it. This was the first time he’s made a running leg, so he was learning about it at the same time I was. One of the cooler new features of this leg, he was quick to point out, was the removable tread. This is so new that it’s not even in the literature.
It’s a covering that goes over the spring on the bottom–the ‘foot’–of the leg. It’s designed by Nike, and it’s much easier to replace than the old method.
The only problem with that, of course, is my running shoe is made by Adidas. Oh, well. They can fight over which gets to sponsor me. I hope it’s not too awkward.
Speaking of awkward: that’s how I walked at first, for the reasons mentioned above. I did the first few steps holding onto the parallel bars that were in the room. But the foot was placed pretty accurately by Ron. He’s been working with me for several years, and even if he hadn’t been, this is the third leg for me he’s built in five months. Within a few minutes, I was walking on it pretty gracefully.
The thing is springy. Not surprising, since it is a spring. It returns close to 100% of the energy put into it, which is a pretty amazing thing. But even though I was walking on it, I was reluctant to run. I could tell by the way I was stepping on it that I would under-run if I tried–sort of like the feeling you get when you discover there’s one more step than you had thought while going down stairs.
This was because it was too short. I was pretty close to exactly level standing on it, but it was supposed to be a couple inches too long than my full leg. The spring compresses when I throw my weight on it, so if it’s the correct standing length, then it will compress too low as I’m running on it, causing me problems with my hip and lower back.
So Ron went back into the workshop and added a spacer to it. Now it was too long to stand on gracefully, but when I started walking faster and faster, I could feel it compress. Suddenly, I leaned into it and started running!
…And just as suddenly, I stopped. The room I was in was only about 30 feet long. And although I did bring my running shoes, I neglected to bring along any shorts. But I did get a very good impression of how it would feel to run.
In a word: awesome. It’s going to be amazing. There’s still a few adjustments to be made, but even so, it feels balanced, and powerful and fast. And, while Ron was out of the room, I did something I hadn’t done with my right leg since 1979.
I hopped. Repeatedly. Boing, boing, boing…like a high-tech, mutant, 180 pound bunny. Felt great.
Turns out, though, that the spacer was a little bit too long. The toe of the leg tended to hit the ground on the pull-through. There’s another spacer that’s a little bit shorter than the one he had put in, but he didn’t have any on hand. That’s why I’m going to have to go back next Thursday. And I’ll bring my shorts this time. I may even bring my bike to see how it feels to ride with it. I might even ride it down to my bike shop. It’s only about 2 miles down the road from the prosthetist’s.**
After we did all we could for the day, I put my other leg back on. My ‘everyday’ leg is another technological marvel, and has what’s considered an ‘active’ foot, which means it returns more than 90% of the energy put into it. But after spending time on my running leg, it felt like it had a lead weight on it.
It’s going to be very interesting very soon.
§§§§§§
*I know–sounds kinda dirty. Heh.
**Heh, heh.





alice
/ January 20, 2012so excited for you! loved reading this because it returns about 103% more energy than i put into it. and now i can’t get boing boing boing out of my head!