If The Socket Fits...

Mile Marker 34: 

A dose of “retail-therapy” always gives me a boost. 

On a shopping expedition yesterday with my school pals -- Chase, Shawn, and Elvira – I marked Mile 34.  We trekked around Center City, weaving between the busy bulldozers on Market Street and the cliff-like curbs on Chestnut.  All three friends lent me a hand, or elbow, when I needed one.

Starbucks marked the beginning of our trip.   To perk up my hospital days, Elvira had sent me cheery text messages like, Hi Sunshine!  Thinking of you.  Soon we’ll be getting a Starbucks Special!  And now, here we were, drinking our Caramel Lite Frappaccinos together like we were takin’ a break on a school day.  But even better, we had a happy hour of shopping ahead!

--------------------------------------------

I’m still getting used to my new body and all its accessories.  Most importantly, the SOCKET of my prosthesis. It’s the top part, the part that fits snuggly and seals in my little leg.  Socket fit is key, but also complicated.

You see, my leg keeps shrinking as the swelling goes down.  So my socket, casted way back in February, has become roomy and loose.   When the shrinking’s over, I’ll get a new and more permanent socket.  But until then I fill this one up with SOCKS.   They come in different thicknesses (called plys) and look like sweatsocks with holes at both ends. 

Getting dressed is a process of trial and error, that can take anywhere from 5 minutes to 4 hours.  Like a 2^nd grader working on math facts, I combine socks of different thicknesses until I get just the right fit.  Today I’m wearing 10 plys. 

Makes shopping for clothes look like child’s play.

--------------------------------------------

Fueled up by Starbucks, we hiked over to the Gap Outlet and a few second-hand shops. Browsing for pants that would fit over my prosthesis, I grabbed a few possibilities, but didn’t venture into the fitting room.  Trying on pants involves taking off my leg, a process best done at home!

After sampling around, we decided to lunch at MAMA’s, a tiny vegetarian place that serves huge falafel sandwiches with laughs and sarcasm on the side.  Mmmm. 

Later at home, I dredged up a last bit of energy to try on my new pants.  Not surprisingly, they didn’t fit over my socket and its 10 sock plys.  Oh well. 

I took off my leg for a rest.

But on crutches, I found myself at my bureau, fingering the necklaces and earrings I hadn’t touched for months.  Then, balancing on one foot in the bathroom, I started experimenting with make-up colors. 

It reminded me of last spring.  I'd spent months in hospital gowns, t-shirts, and sweatpants.  But one night, struck by the warm weather, my mom helped me try on some of my REAL clothes – capris, shorts, and blouses.  We both almost cried.  “I look like myself!” I said.  And from the waist up, I really did.

Our shopping trip yesterday gave me that same kind of hope.  A glimpse of my old confident self, and somewhere in there, the promise of dressing up again -- new leg and all. 

For the first time in a long time, I looked in the mirror and saw, not what was missing, but what was still there.  My own shape.  My own colors.  Me.

As the (slightly modified) saying goes, If the socket fits, wear it.   I hope to wear mine well.

Mileage so far:  35.30