Living with a Shoe Prosthesis

For over 30 years, my left shoe has needed an external shoe lift. My left leg was left shorter than my right after an automobile accident. To this day, I still am not used to having 98% of the people see my shoe before me. Here is my short true story of living with a shoe prosthesis.

On the positive side, I am grateful for the use of my legs. My shoe lift (prosthesis) provides me with the opportunity to walk without a noticeable limp. It helps my scoliosis. This, in turn, makes it easier on my back. My shoe lift balances my gait. I am grateful for that. That is one definite benefit to wearing a shoe prosthesis.

Another nice thing about my shoe lift is the fact I can walk through puddles and not get my foot wet. (My attempt at humor.)

Over the years, technology has improved tremendously in orthopedic shoe repair. When I started wearing my shoe lift (30 years ago), I needed to buy shoes that had a removable sole. My shoe lift needed to be attached to the body of the shoe. Then, the bottom sole was reattached. Therefore, shoe buying was extremely difficult. ‘Old lady shoes’ were the only type I could wear then.

Now, I do not have to worry about that dilemma. As long as the shoe bottom is relatively flat, modern technology has found ways for my shoe lift to simply be glued onto the shoe bottom. I am told by the shoe craftspeople, though, that it still is hard work. It usually involves sanding and gluing.

Shoe shopping can still be difficult, though. The shoe material itself has to be sturdy enough to hold my foot steady. It is too easy to ‘slide’ off the side of my shoe lift.

The cost of my shoe lift has increased three to four fold in 30 years. That is really not that bad and does not sound like much. Sometimes, though, the shoe lift costs more than the shoe. That is frustrating.

I still am sensitive to how people stare at my shoe lift and then look up at me. You would think after 30 years I would be used to it. I am not. This behavior is such a common occurrence, that when I meet the 1% who sees me first – I know they are special. The 1% is my personal estimate by observation.

My life has been affected by my shoe lift in other ways. Years ago I lost one job because the owner did not like the fact that I wore “sneakers.” Yes, he actually told me that. He wanted me to wear the typical women’s shoe style. I informed him that they were my orthopedic shoes and if he did not like it – too bad. I could not believe his audacity, ignorance, or insensitivity. I could have punched him. Idiot.

Another time I interviewed for a managerial position in the public sector. I was called back twice for interviews. The second time I interviewed with the Department Head. It was then that I heard the position was very media-oriented. I would be in the spotlight regularly. I was told that good appearances were essential. Then I heard that my shoe lift was not the look they wanted to project. I did not get the job because of that.

When I see someone else relying on a prosthesis (or any walking aid) to ease their daily life – I like to help them out. I open doors for people on walkers, canes, or in wheelchairs. I help them with their bags. I am not saying this to paint a colorful picture of myself. I am saying it because I have seen how many times the general public is insensitive to those with walking aids. It truly amazes me how many people do not help. I find it totally befuddling and infuriating.

In closing, please see the person behind the prosthesis and not just the prosthesis.

 

Reference:

• personal experience