Crutches for Dummies

I was drugged up in the recovery room when a nurse told me it was time to go home. The doctor popped in and said the surgery went great, even better than expected. That translated into the doctor telling me that he was even more amazing than he thought he was. He said that he was able to re-attach my Achilles to my heel bone without a cadaver tendon, but that this particular surgery had a super high risk of post-surgical blood clots. I needed to inject myself with a syringe every morning or I’d die. He smiled and handed my wife, Deb, a large box of pre-filled syringes. In my post-surgical Michael Jackson near comma state of mind, that’s what I heard him say. Inject or die.

A sumo wrestler dressed like an orderly wheeled me down hallway after hallway, out the side doors and into my wife’s car. As Deb put the car in drive, the sumo orderly knocked on the window and then opened the rear door. He pushed a pair of aluminum crutches into the back seat and said, “doc said don’t put any pressure on that foot. None. Don’t let it touch nothin or you be back in here for round two. Oh, yeah, and don’t get it wet. You see him in two weeks.”

Once we go home, I fumbled with the crutch trying to get up a 10 inch step from the garage to the house. I almost fell; Deb caught me. I couldn’t figure out how to get up the step. Eventually, I just hopped up on my good leg and then grabbed the door in front of me for balance. Deb was eyebrow high in a pool of anxiety as she begged me to just sit down on the step and then get back up safely.

Once I sat safely on the couch, with my leg elevated per the doctor’s instructions and insisted upon by Deb, I began to examine the crutches. Where were the instructions? I asked Deb if she had them and she said, “Instructions for crutches? You are kidding, right?”

I wasn’t kidding. How should I make it up and down the stairs; half my house is upstairs? How do you shower? What’s the best method to get up a high curb? Or how to take a pee? How do I carry a glass of water at night? How do I open heavy doors and crutch in? What is the best height setting on the crutches for me? A short guide booklet would have been wonderful. A starting place to jump off at, so to speak.

As of today, I am four weeks into the non-weight bearing adventures of crutching around. Every single day ten different people say the same thing. It varies in form but it always makes me want to scream; they all  tell me to get the “Scooter.” They say, “Why are you on crutches? My husband used the Scooter, it’s sooo easy. so much easier. I can lend it to you.” Every last one wants to lend me their family Scooter. To me, that scooter is for old people and it is a symbol of weakness. It’s for people who can’t handle the crutches. I can handle the crutches. I hate the crutches and I do have burn marks under my arms and I feel like I might pass out sometimes when I have to walk forever to get somewhere while carrying a heavy brief case. But I can and will make it on the crutches because I am not old.

I think my kids are starting to see me as getting old. I turned 50 on crutches. Not a good image to them. To a 12 and 14 year old, 50 sounds very, very old. Before the injury, I could out run both of them and I was very active. I just turned 50 but I believed my athletic ability made me more like 32; except for that one weak Achilles tendon. My Achilles was my Achilles.

Now on crutches, I can’t display any athleticism that would lend credence to persuasion to my daughters that I am still young. Instead, I ask them to get me a cup of water or to carry my bag to the car. I move slowly, and until this week, I have gone up and down the stairs on my ass. I borrowed their grandfather’s medical bathroom chair so I can safely shower. "Daddy's using grandpa's chari for the shower?" Every indication is that I am getting old in their eyes.

Now, after four weeks into crutching all over the place, I have figured out all of the secrets, short cuts and best crutching practices. I could easily put together a short, helpful pamphlet or instruction book that could be delivered with every pair and I could call it “Crutches for Dummies.” With a title like that, I’d get sued by all the Dummies, so I might call it “Crutches Made Easier, Cause They Ain’t Easy, If You Want Easy Get the Scooter.”

I just decided that there should be no free guide book to crutches. That's ultimately the fun, or terror, of crutches; figuring out the new world. Why make it easy for the next over the hill weekend athlete who ruptures his Achilles? To learn is to grow.

However, in a showing of overall good will, I will offer one free helpful tip: adjust the crutch height indicator to one inch below your actual height. This is a big deal and will save anyone taking this advice about two pounds of underarm flesh.

I am 6' tall. Actually, I am just shy of six feet tall. I round up. I round up and I round long. So on the

crutches, I put the tab at 5'10" after burning my arm pits at the 6' level and then even at the 5'11'' level. Also, a good crutch user should maintain all the body weight on the hands, not under the arms. The underarm area is just for balance. So for best results, the crutches need to be 1-2 iches under the arm pits and the hands and triceps should hold up the body weight. Damn, I just gave up another free piece of advice. 

In 2-3 weeks I should be off the crutches. I wish that they were made of wood instead of aluminum. I would love to have a crutch burning event in my back yard. I can't figure out what to do with aluminum crutches. How could I, they don't have an instruction book.

They should at least come with this: