“Life is Good”

  

Job hunting is dismal enough in this job market when you are a 48-year-old man who uses crutches to walk.  A few weeks ago, while sitting in the lobby of a large company during a hiring open house, a woman who was sitting on the opposite side of the room felt so uncomfortable with my crutches that she was compelled to get up, cross the room and say to me, “I watched you walk from your car into the building and you did it beautifully.”  For as many times as people have made comments to me about my crutches, I still sat there blown away.   My response, “Uhhhh, thanks I guess.”  What else could I really say?

It never ceases to amaze me the amount of crutch comments I have received over the past five years. I never tried to hide the crutches or avoid talking about them, and I now cope by writing about crutches.  However, when you are going through multiple leg surgeries, endless recoveries on crutches or transitioning to using crutches full time, the last thing you need is comments about the crutches every place you go.

I have an extensive collection of “Life is good” tee shirts, short sleeve and long sleeve.  I just love them.  I love the sayings, the graphics and most of all, the comfort.  Needless to say, they have become a staple gift for my kids and wife to buy me.  Before my leg debacle, I would wear my “Life is Good” tees every Friday to work.  Fridays were dress-down days at the elementary school where I taught, so every Friday I wore a “Life is Good” tee and jeans.  The first thing the kids looked for on Friday morning was my tee shirt.  They loved reading the sayings and often would try to guess which one I was wearing.  Not only did the kids do this, every Friday morning I would have faculty members poking their heads in my room to see what “Life is good” shirt I was wearing.  Disappointingly, “Life is good” quickly became “Life is Annoying.”

Once I was using crutches, my “Life is Good” tees were even more valuable than ever, mostly for their comfort.  Unfortunately, I soon realized that people were mocking them.  It never occurred to me that people would make any connection between my “Life is Good” tees and my physical situation.  However, completely unaware of the shirt I was wearing, a waitress at the local diner says, “Life is good? If I had a broken leg, I wouldn’t be wearing a shirt that says Life is Good.”  Needless to say, this was the most popular reaction I got from people everywhere I went while wearing a “Life is good” shirt while using crutches. “Life doesn’t look good to me.”  “Look, that guy has a broken leg and is still wearing a shirt that says Life is Good.”  It went on and on.   I soon found myself only wearing the ones that said things other than “Life is good.”

Even without the shirts, the comments kept flying over the years, and still do on occasion.  Here are some of my favorites:

With a look of shock on their face, “Darryl, you’re still on crutches?”   With this one, I was often tempted to gasp and say, “No really, I didn’t know that, thanks for telling me!”

“Still dragging those old crutches around with you?”  The response I was thinking, “Still spouting out those stupid comments?”

While being introduced to someone, the introducer says, “This is Darryl, I don’t think I have ever known him not on crutches.”  I am thinking, “REALLY, that’s all you have to say about me?”

A guy who I hadn’t seen in several months saw my crutches leaning against the wall behind me and he says, “Darryl, are those still your crutches?  I would think by now you would have custom mahogany crutches.”  I am thinking, “If it would get you to shut up, they might be worth it.”

This one’s not necessarily about crutches, but a classic.  “Darryl, don’t worry, soon you will be in physical therapy, get your range of motion back and return to all your activities.”  This is after they ask what happened and I tell them I had my ankle joint fused.  I wanted to scream, “Get a dictionary and look up what the word ‘fused’ means.”

An innocent favorite of mine; I pass two first graders in the hall and one says to the other, “Look, there’s the broken teacher with the leg.”  This one just made me smile.

These were just a small sample of the amount of comments I have received over the years.
So, while preparing to go into my sixth surgery, I did Google search for some appropriate tee shirts I might wear.  My search came up with nothing, but here are some sayings I had in mind.  “I am on crutches, deal with it!”  “No crutch comments, please!”
What do you think about my tee shirt ideas?

I think I speak for anyone who uses crutches full time or has used them long-term.  Greet us as you would greet anyone else.  Our crutches allow us to get around.  They don’t define who we are.  As for my “Life is Good” shirts, I am still building my collection and wearing them, crutches and all, because “life is good!”

The payoff for Hard Work and Determination

 

Last week, I doubted whether a good attitude and hard work had really paid off.   After receiving the news that one job that had my name all over it was given to someone else, it was difficult for me to see the light at the end of the tunnel.   Quite frankly, I wasn’t even sure there was a light.

 

Six years ago I had achieved what everyone dreams of, a career they love.  I was blissfully teaching my third grade class of students and couldn’t imagine ever doing anything else.  My life was not perfect or problem free, but I was experiencing the same everyday issues that everyone faces.  I had three healthy kids, a loving wife, a career and and a healthy active life.   Life was good!

Who knew that six years later, I would have endured six painful life-changing ankle surgeries, all as a result of a facture in my ankle.  My teaching career was over and I faced a life of using crutches to walk.

Losing my freedom of mobility was hard enough, without losing my career as well.  At first I struggled to continue to work.  Two of the surgeries I worked around the school year, using the summer breaks, and one surgery I had done during the school year, taking a ten week leave.  Most of these three school years, I relied heavily on crutches to get through my work days.  Not ideal, but I made it work; however, in an economic time of massive teacher layoffs and an unsympathetic school administration, I lost my job.  The guy who had been through multiple ankle surgeries and was always on crutches was the first to go.

Over the next few years, I underwent three more ankle surgeries and I lost count of the endless time I spent on crutches, in the end concluding that any amount of time standing or walking was undoable without the aid of crutches.  My dream of teaching hadn’t died.  I strongly felt that I could teach using crutches and making other accommodations in the classroom.   After a zillion applications and some unsuccessful interviews, I concluded that teaching was no longer in the cards for me.  The colleges were pumping out hundreds of successful new teachers for very few positions, and my age and disability were against me.  In reality, teaching is a very busy job requiring constant moving around the building and classroom.   I needed a job that required far less walking and that would be more conducive to using crutches.

A huge part of the process of rebuilding my life was training for a new career as a 47-year-old man with a disability requiring the use of crutches.  Where do you even begin?  I had become fascinated with radiology and the human anatomy through all of my research and surgeries, so began looking into careers in the medical field that wouldn’t require medical school, in the end choosing a one year certificate program to become a medical coder.   It wasn’t that I felt sitting in a cubical in the dungeons of hospital coding medical records was the job for me.  My plan was to see where it would lead me.

It lead me to an internship at the State Department of Health, where I stumbled upon an open position which had very little to do with medical coding.  I have learned in life that when things seem to just fall into place, they are meant to be, and when things don’t seem to fall into place, they are not meant to be. Yes, hard work is essential, but if you are just spinning your wheels, it probably wasn’t meant to be.   With this open position, everything had fallen into place.  This is the reason why learning that I didn’t get the job threw me for a loop.  I found myself desperately trying to discover the reason, or a lesson in the fact that for two months, everything pointed to my getting this job, and then it was pulled away.  At the time, no sensible reason came to mind.

My attitude was definitely anything but good for a few days.  I then worked very hard to change and find a way to improve my attitude.   It was not easy and I suffered with it for over a week.  I went to work applying for a minimum of two jobs per day, and I racked my brains for career possibilities.   Every time I felt myself slipping into negativity, I would go for a bike ride, work out or find something to keep me  busy.  Each day my attitude improved and the job rejection slowly faded.  A week later, I even found myself telling my therapist I was surprised I felt as good as I did.

A week-and-a-half afterwards, I left the gym, hopped on my bike and was headed for home.  It was about 9:30 am.  My phone rang.  After stopping my bike and answering the phone, I heard, “Are you still looking for a job?”  It was the Department of Health calling to offer me the position after all.  The person they had offered the job to had declined and taken a different position.

In the end, was this a test for me?  Was it a test to see just how much I had healed?  I don’t know.  If I had continued on with my original thoughts of despair and negative feelings after hanging up from the rejection call, would it have worked out this way?  Maybe I passed the test by pulling myself together and pushing forward with determination.  It all paid off in the end.

Another goal in taking back my life was accomplished!!!  Follow me to see what’s next!

Lesson Learned!

I leaned the old lesson from Aesop’s Fable “The Milkmaid and Her Pail”:  “Don’t count your chickens before they hatch” last week.

In my plight to regain my life I needed to find a way to successfully obtain employment.  One year ago, feeling like I had nowhere to turn, I enrolled in a program at a local community college.   The program was to become a certified medical coder.  I had not been looking to become a medical coder, however after spending so much time wrapped up in my own medical issues, I had looked into other medical related careers.  So standing in my kitchen reading a flier from a community college to become a medical coder, which came in that day’s mail, I went to my computer and registered.

I had two reasons for enrolling in the program.  One, I couldn’t bear the thought of another year going by without me doing something about getting on with my life.  Two, what I felt I needed to obtain a job was a break, foot in the door so to speak.  This program was one year long and finished with a 98 hour internship.   Filling my two requirements.

A week later I found myself, a 47 year old man with a masters degree, sitting among 30 other students of all ages with little more than high school diplomas.  The most difficult part was, I was being spoken to in a most demeaning way by a woman in her mid-forties, seven months pregnant, with no more education or knowledge about medical coding then I had.   This women, with her sloppy, unprofessional appearance, would be teaching seven of the classes I would need to take over the next year.

Needless to say, I had to suck up a lot of pride to sit and be ridiculed by this woman. She was in major defensive mode to cover for her lack of knowledge.  As she, I am sure, wasn’t expecting to have a smartass like me questioning her every move in the class.  Most dropped out as only seven of the original thirty completed the year.  I stuck it out for the internship, in my mind the only chance I had to gain on the job experience needed to achieve employment.

June 3^rd I was off to my first day of the internship.  Going in, my plan was to work hard and leave with a current reference and some job related experience.  Ironically, the third day on the internship I learn of an open position.  I leapt into action and inquired how I could get the job.  To my surprise my inquiry was welcomed with “this might be a case of being in the right place at the right time”.  In the days to follow I am questioned and put through constant casual interviewing.   I overhear conversation after conversation (not hard to do, they were 5 feet from my cubical) about the position and my getting the position.   It is then told to me that they need to post and interview a few other people before offering the job to me.  However, they were only going to interview three or four candidates, the minimum number they were required to.  Wow, this is finally my break, I am thinking. Now don’t get me wrong, all the time I kept telling myself this is too good to be true.  I even continued attending hiring open houses, job fairs and applying to every job I could find, but everything pointed to me being a shoo in for this job.  The job posting was customized to my education.  I was personally delivered the posting and told to make sure I applied that night, coworkers telling me there was no way I wouldn’t get the job.  I left the internship with a glowing evaluation that could not have been better.  Unfortunately, in my mind I already had this job and how could I not, everything lead me to believe the job would be mine.

The process was long to get from the vacancy to interviewing, in all a two month period.  I went for the interview, which I did not take lightly, preparing for days leading up to it.  At the interview again totally got the impression it was just a formality.  Left feeling as confident as ever that on Monday I would get the job offer.

For me this was more than a job or a paycheck, this was much, much more.  This job would mean I still had the ability to provide for my family, it would tell me that I would be all right, I could overcome the disability, live with it and still have a successful life.  Getting the job offer would prove with some hard work, perseverance and a good attitude I could accomplish anything.

Monday came and no phone call, Tuesday no phone call, Wednesday no call, by Thursday I was dreading finding the rejection note in my email or mailbox.  The next week came and went no phone call, no email, and no letter in the mail box.  Obviously this made me nervous and in my mind I tried to start processing the possibility of not getting the job.  However, this wasn’t just an interview that went really well, it was two months of everything falling in to place.  How could I not be offered the job?  Could life really be that cruel, could this all have been a joke, another kick in the ass?

Two weeks and four days later my phone rang.  When I saw the number I was overtaken with excitement, within seconds I would have a job, I could contribute to the family income, give my family news they could be proud of me for and I would have achieved a new career as a 48 year old man with a physical disability.  I hadn’t accounted for bad news coming in the form of a phone call.  Shockingly in minutes I hear, I have been putting this call off because we are not offering you the position.  At that moment I literally felt all life and hope drain out of my body.  By the time I put the phone down I couldn’t breathe, my heart was beating out of control and I honestly didn’t know where to go or what to do.  For two months I lived on this high of getting this job, everything pointed to my getting the job, I had even begun to plan my life around the job and within seconds it was all gone.  Back to the jobless, angry, crippled man.  Once again life knocked me on my ass.

For two days I just existed, an empty shell, emotionless, paralyzed to move forward.  It took over a year to lose my anger so I could move on and here I was with new anger.  So what do I do?  I could not stand the thought of living with this anger again, so I looked to my inspiration, the people in the books I read.  What would they do, they all had major setbacks that defeated them.  They all picked themselves up and pushed forward, so that is what I have to do.

One of the things that bothered me about not getting the job was I felt this website, the blog, was a farce.  To continue would be hypocritical, after all I wasn’t successful, so how could I be preaching all about overcoming a disability.  During those two days my plan was to kill the website, but then it hit me.  One of the best ways I found to overcome my anger was to write.  For some reason as I write I feel better.  It helps me make sense of the situation, helping me release my anger.  Plus this is my journey to recovery, not a fairytale ending.
So the post that was to be bragging about being successful and obtaining a job, is in fact another lesson, a detour in the road to recovery.  I not only spent the next few days writing this post, l combed the job ads, wrote a dozen cover letters applying to jobs.  It isn’t magic and it will take me some time but I will find my way around the detour, job or no job.

Remember, “Don’t count you chickens before they hatch” even if it seems like a sure thing!
 

My Love-Hate Relationship with Crutches

 

Since ancient times, man has carved staffs out of wood to walk while suffering from leg injuries. Today, these staffs, called crutches, are constructed of wood or aluminum, and make walking possible when you have an injured or unusable leg. A crutch is essentially a way of extending your arms to the ground so that you can use your arms to help you walk while remaining upright. They have existed and used for so long because they do the job that they are meant to do so well. Yes, it is true that they are difficult and uncomfortable to get around on, but without them, we would not be able to ambulate when a let was injured. The popular consensus of those who have been subjected to needing crutches to walk due to a leg injury is that they suck. I agree that it sucks to have to use crutches to perform one of our most basic actions—walking bipedal—but when walking becomes a painful and impossible task, crutches can become a valuable tool in your life.
Waking up with two healthy legs, getting dressed, leaving your house as you do every morning, breaking a leg, and returning your house in a leg cast and needing crutches to perform even simple tasks, such as going to the bathroom, is a difficult experience. This is the case for many people who end up on crutches. It is overwhelming to go suddenly from having two healthy legs to needing crutches in a matter of minutes. I hobbled around on my painful foot for months, avoiding the dreaded crutches or being properly diagnosed. At the time, I had no idea that I had been walking on a fractured ankle.
I had been experiencing pain walking on my foot for many months. With each week that went by, the pain intensified, and walking became increasingly more difficult. In fact, as my job (elementary teacher) required me to be on my feet all day, walking and standing eventually became so painful that I would do anything to avoid it. I knew crutches were in my future, but I put them off for as long as I could. The thought of struggling through my days on those torture devices scared me. Everyone that I had ever known that used crutches seemed so miserable using them that I couldn’t imagine that they would be better than suffering on my painful foot. So, I hobbled around for weeks using furniture, windowsills, cars in parking lots, and anything I was near enough to use as my crutches instead.
One evening, after about a week of having many times during the day where the pain while walking became unbearable, I broke down and slipped a pair of crutches under my arms. Honestly, after taking ten steps using the crutches, I realized it was a massive relief not to have to step down on my painful left leg. By the end of the evening, I was comforted having a way to ambulate without using my sore left foot.
The next morning brought an entirely new light to my newfound manner of mobility. Dealing with getting ready for work, negotiating the bathroom, making my breakfast, lunch, and getting to the car with what I needed for work all became insurmountable tasks that were once done without thought. I found myself exhausted, and the real challenge of my day at work hadn’t even begun. By the time I returned home, I was physically and emotionally exhausted. Physically, my hands and wrists were aching from supporting my weight all day. The sides of my chest where the underarm piece of the crutch rested and rubbed was raw and painful. Overall, my body felt like I had be climbing mountains all day instead of having been through a day at work. I was emotionally exhausted from explaining repeatedly to everyone I passed why I was on crutches. It only took a few days of going through this for me to question whether walking on crutches was a better alternative to walking on my painful foot. I concluded that it was because I needed my foot to heal and continuing to walk on it had already proven to make it worse instead of better.
Three or four weeks later, my crutches started to become easier to deal with. My persistence in sticking with using them until my foot healed on its own or with the help of a surgeon coupled with working a job that required the crutches to be constant extensions of my arm all day long made my body adjust rather quickly. My job didn’t allow me to sit on the couch all day with the mindset of this was a temporary situation, and therefore, I will only use them when moving is absolutely necessary. I had to force myself up onto the crutches each morning and make myself use them all day long. In doing this, I slowly began to discover ways to make walking on crutches more comfortable.
After a failed surgery to repair my fractured talus, my first round on crutches ended up being five months. During these five months, I became very capable of getting around. This didn’t, however, mean that I enjoyed it and didn’t face the pain that crutches cause to the body. I suffered with wrist pain. My wrist pain would become so bad that when I first got up on my crutches and attempted to bear my weight through them I would think that there was no way I could go another day using crutches. Over the course of the five months, the pressure on my hands caused my right pinky to lose feeling. During my five-month stent on crutches, I had many days when I would have done anything to get a one-day break from using them. The sight of them next to my bed each morning made me want to roll over and cry. I could not wait for the day that I could throw the crutches into the trash and never touch a pair again in my life.
My crutch usage did not end after five months because my ankle healed or because the pain ended. My crutch usage only ended temporarily due to my surgeon telling me that I had to walk on my leg regardless of the pain. I had to do this to strengthen my leg before going into the next surgery. My bones had weakened from not having weight on them in five months. I needed to have my ankle joint fused together, and the bones would not heal well in their weakened state. The only way to strengthen them was to walk on them. After the first day I walked without crutches, I no longer would do anything to get rid of them. At that point, I would have done anything to have them back. I had to walk on my excruciating ankle for six weeks before I could have surgery. The only way I got through those six weeks was to walk on my ankle all day and reward myself with crutches in the evening. So yes, when the very basic ability to walk is excruciating, the alternative of using crutches seemed wonderful.
During the six weeks leading up to surgery, I spent hours and hours researching how I could make my life easier for the next three-month round on crutches. I invested in some crutch accessories that solved the hand, wrist, and shoulder pain. I found a way to solve the problems and made my crutches comfortable to use. I also learned to view my crutches as a tool that allowed me to walk and get around verses the enemy. After all, my ankle was the problem. The crutches were helping me. The ankle fusion (2^nd surgery) still didn’t end my crutch use. Over the next three years, I endured four additional ankle surgeries and spent not months but years on crutches. Now, I use them all the time to walk.
Crutches are a great tool that makes getting around possible when one of your legs is injured or able to be used for walking. Through my six surgeries and constantly painful leg, I have come to value having crutches available to make getting around possible. Of course, I would prefer to have two healthy usable legs, but given that I don’t, my crutches have given me mobility. They have allowed me to be mobile after surgeries when I needed to remain non-weight bearing for healing purposes, and crutches have allowed me relief from pain while walking between surgeries. They now enable me walk with less pain and to live an active life.