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Heather Mills - Amputee Forum
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paul@plan-a

Embarrasement

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As some of you may have gathered I have only one leg. I wear a prothstesis which pretty much enables me to do most things, except run for a bus or go down stairs two at a time.

Venturing out into my ‘brave new world’ on this contraption was like Bambi on ice on the first few occasions, from the start I refused a stick as I needed two hands to cushion the fall as terrafirma had a nasty habit of coming towards my face at a great race of knots without warning.

Since I had just survived a life threatening illness my wife thought it prudent that I addressed my will, as at the time of my illness I did not have one. So off I set to the solicitors with my last will and testament pencilled on a small note pad jammed in my back pocket.

I was a scorching day in June well over 25 degrees, I parked up as near as I could to the lawyers building, feeling confident I marched down the high street with the composure of Eddie the eagle Edwards, flapping for balance with my arms like Eddie did after a 30metre jump.

Mums grabbed their infants out of my path; the elderly dived in the road rather than face this unsteady juggernaut.

At last I reached the solicitors reception, I flung open the door marched in with the subtlety of Harry Worth! Sporting shorts and my new titanium leg I was a bit of a surprise to the receptionist who was certainly old enough to remember Douglas Bader, but perhaps missed the film ‘Reach for the sky ‘ as the look of horror on her face told a story of ‘Oh my god’. She composed herself enough to offer me a chair, but then worriedly asked if I would be able to manage the stairs?

No problem I confidently exclaimed showing her my skills of pirouetting on a highly polished wood block floor. Now these offices reflected a décor of between the wars, air conditioning still a distant vision, ceiling fans rotated slowly forcing the warm air around the room. Now an amputee’s body temperature is above than of our able bodied counter parts, sweat was now trickling down my back; my stump was becoming sweaty also.

The down side of wearing an air suction prothstetic socket is that the socket relies on dry air to hold the thing onto your residual limb. When the stumps starts to get damp the leg slowly starts to slip off. This can be remedied by standing up forcing the stump down into the socket, this intern forces out the now excess air through the top of the socket, giving a short sharp farting noise. No problem in the right surroundings but not very appropriate in a lawyers practice.

The receptionist is now comfortable with her bionic customer and ventures that Mr Smith will see me now, she reminds me to be careful on the stairs. Making sure my stump is secure in the plastic socket I glide up the stairs greeted by my Solicitor at the top. He eye’s my leg smiling with enthusiasm. His office is decked out like a scene from Rumpole of the Bailey, He offers me a seat and goes back around his beautiful polished desk. On his desk are family photo’s an ornate clock, pens and pencils all neatly laid out.

After the best part of an hour my will was complete, the solicitor had heard the whole sorry story which let up to my leg loss above the knee. The meeting was coming to a close, I started to feel for my stump in the socket, unfortunately the lawyers office was as hot if not hotter than the reception area, my stump was nearly out of the socket, I tried to force my now hot swollen stump back home into the socket, while reaching out to shake the unknowing lawyers hand, an enormous fart sound echoed around the room, followed by a succession of small farts like a back firing car, the lawyer looked shocked, I lost control of the knee which first threw me backwards grabbing the table for balance I just managed to stay upright before another enormous fart let fly from the socket as the stump reached the bottom of the socket, the knee shot forward making me lurch across the now bewildered lawyers desk scattering his possession’s to the four corners of the room. Pencils, ink, photos all now decorated the hard wood polished floor.

After what seemed an eternity I got the leg under control and stabilised, my faces now red like a beetroot. My god the lawyer exclaimed are you alright, I’m fine I assured, leaving the lawyers blitzkrieg office, he got off his knees from collecting his upturned table ornaments, to wave me off down the stairs. I smiled an unconfident smile as I carefully negotiated the steps, my confidence now severely knocked. I smiled towards the old receptionist who met me at the bottom of the stairs obviously having heard the commotion.

My adventure nearly over, I staggered back to my car before noticing that the leg was not correctly aliened in fact the foot now stuck out horizontal like one of Charlie Chaplin’s, still nothing that a set of alun keys and a spanner wouldn’t sort out before my next adventure.

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Each of us has probably had the familiar fart come from our leg at one point or another. It is a most embarrassing situation.

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Great descriptive tale, there! :laugh: In my early days at this, I spent an awful lot of time with my leg farting and rotating...seems I was always in the process of getting a new, smaller socket and liner. I never let this get in the way of my going out...but I'm sure I caused a lot of concern among the general populace.

My favorite little "trick" was when I'd be walking along and notice that folks were looking at me oddly...it normally meant that my foot had twisted to some new and innovative angle. I have a pretty realistic-looking leg, so a foot pointing off at that new and innovative angle was pretty disturbing-looking.

Soooo....I'd march myself over to someplace where I could lean myself, reach down, and yank my leg and foot back into position, and then walk on as if nothing had happened. It got some GREAT reactions!

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paul@plan-a;

What a refreshing, hilarious story....I'm still laughing. :laugh: You should definately be writing a book of funny stories.

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