Bionic Woman- Part 2 (The Decision)

Finally, after four weeks of wrestling with the decision, I have made up my mind. At 9 a.m. tomorrow morning I am calling BioTech to order my new arm!

I received such great input, information, and encouragement from so many of you. I got emails, Facebook comments and messages, tweets, and even a few phone calls. Some of you batted the options back and forth with me in person, helping me think through everything thoroughly. I can’t thank you all enough.

Hearing from two prosthetists (those who make prostheses) and several fellow prosthesis-wearers, I gathered these influential facts about the myoelectric arm:

1. It costs more than I originally estimated… $33,000 instead of $25,000.
2. It is heavy, possibly up to double the weight of my present body-powered (cable-operated) arm.
3. It is likely to break down more often than my present arm-type. This is a huge consideration as I have to drive eighty miles one way and use a personal day from work for each repair.
4. Parts and repairs are more expensive, too. My insurance only covers $2500/year. On a $33,000 arm, that probably wouldn’t fix one finger.
5. The suction socket (that would hold the arm on and allow me to get rid of the harness across my back) is tight… very tight. I’m not a tight kind of girl. I can’t stand tight clothes. Spandex suffocates me.
6. Batteries have to be recharged. One wearer commented, “When the battery dies you basically have a door stop.”

Based on these facts, among others, I am going with a new body-powered arm. I look forward to the cosmetic improvements now available, such as flesh-colored bolts and cables buried out of sight. I am also getting a new type of elbow—the Ergo Elbow. It has an internal balance system that will make lifting the forearm easier.

It is fun for me to share this adventure with you! I will keep you posted. And a special shout-out goes to the team at Cincinnati Children’s Hospital and Mrs. J.’s students in Indianapolis who are following the process.

1962- Got my first prosthesis on my first birthday!

Bionic Woman- Part 1

I am getting a new prosthetic arm! I thought some of you might find it interesting to follow the process with me…

I had my initial “casting” visit at BioTech in Birmingham, Alabama, on Friday, April 20, 2012. However, much thought, prayer, and research preceded that day. In fact, I’ve been trying to decide what to do since June of 2010. It’s a very big decision as I will have to live with it for many years. (My present prosthesis is nine years old.) AND it’s a huge financial investment. The funny thing is I went to this appointment with my mind finally made up, but left the appointment without a clue what to do.

Here are my options:

1. BODY-POWERED: I can get an arm like I have now, which is called “body-powered” or “cable-operated.” It is operated by movements of my shoulders and upper body. It is held on by a harness across my back and a loop under my “good” right arm.
2. MYOELECTRIC: I can get a myoelectric arm. It would be operated by flexing muscles in my existing upper left arm which would trigger electrodes to send signals to the hand to open and close. It would be held on by suction.

Here is my dilemma:

1. BODY-POWERED: I am used to the body-powered arm. It is second-nature to me as I have worn this type since I was one year old. It is less expensive— $10,000 as compared to $25,000. The mechanical parts tend to break down less than myoelectric parts, the parts costing less, as well. Also, many improvements have been made since my present arm was built. Now many of my silver cables, housings, bolts, etc. can be made flesh-colored or even buried out of sight.
2. MYOELECTRIC: I would not have to wear the harness across my back if I get a myoelectric arm! That would be nothing short of life-changing for me. Obviously, it would feel amazing. Not so obviously, I could wear clothes that I’ve never been able to wear before. (I am extremely limited in finding clothes that cover all my straps and metal.) In addition, the myoelectric arm would offer increased function. However, there would be a learning curve. I would have to stop my life as I know it and relearn even the simplest tasks. And there’s always the chance that I wouldn’t be happy with it and then I’d be stuck with my old arm for several more years.

So…I need to make a decision this week. HELP! WHAT SHOULD I DO?

My present arm is on the left

A Scholarship for Warped Kids

This fall I will have two kids in college. Yikes! So I have been spending lots of my off days from work searching for scholarships and helping my son Isaac complete the grueling application processes for them. There are thousands of scholarships with every requirement imaginable: a scholarship for kids who are 6’2″ or taller, a scholarship for kids who are 4’10″ or shorter, a scholarship for kids who are left-handed, a scholarship for kids who are a twin, a scholarship for kids with the last name of Zolp… I checked scholarships for Pepsi, my husband’s employer: none for this area. I checked scholarships for ministry, my profession: only for kids going into ministry or for certain denominations. I thought of every affiliation we have and searched for scholarships related to them. And then… I stumbled upon one that fits Isaac perfectly.

An organization called “Through the Looking Glass” is offering fifteen $1000 scholarships to children of parents with disabilities. I almost clicked past it online because I do not consider myself disabled. But as I continued to read, the guidelines said parents don’t have to consider themselves disabled. The organization is doing research and just wants to hear life stories. They want to hear how growing up with a disabled parent has affected the applicant’s life. Bam! I know I have warped my kids, so I yelled for Isaac and said, “We can win this one!”

The application process includes one reference, official transcripts, and an activity resume, things I can take care of. But the main requirement is the life story essay. Here’s what Isaac wrote…

Blessings

      To me, having a parent with a disability has never been an issue. Growing up and seeing my mother do incredible things without an arm has always seemed to be the norm for me and my family. Seeing my mother accomplish more than just everyday tasks without so much as a doubt in her mind has made me aware that a disability has as much power as one gives it.

     When I was about six, my mother, being a children’s minister, was explaining to the children what her disability was. She asked the group of children what they thought her disability was. At the time I was in the same group as the other children and couldn’t understand what she had that was considered a disability. The only thing that came to my mind was that she had some gray hairs. I raised my hand and said so. My mother laughed. I knew that my mother had only one arm, but I never considered that a disability.

     Just as I thought when I was six, I still believe today. People are only disabled if they let something like that rule their lives. Having a mother with a “disability” has shown me how to apply this to my own life. I don’t judge others by what appears to be their capacity of capability. In a way, I have almost been numbed to others’ disabilities, almost being unaware of them. For instance, one day a friend and I were walking through town. My friend pointed out a man running. I noticed him running, too, but my thoughts went to him being crazy for running in the summer heat. My friend’s thoughts, however, went to his two prosthetic running legs. I had not even noticed that. This is just one example of how growing up with my mother has affected my views on people and disabilities and their capabilities.

     I also feel my mother has taught me to have joy for all that we are given in life and to cherish what we have. I can’t begin to describe the unnatural peace and joy that illuminates from my mother. She has really shown me that to have joy doesn’t always mean everything in life is going your way. Life is always going to find a way to get you down, one way or another. Joy is that feeling that keeps you getting up when life pushes you down. Joy is being grateful for the little things in life.    

      Having a mother who is strong and has never given in to her disability has forever influenced me. It has taught me to look at life in a different way and from a different perspective. I have grown up knowing that I could do anything with what I have and that I should be happy with what I have been given. I shall always be thankful for the lessons that I have been blessed with by my mother.

I think Isaac should win this scholarship, don’t you? I’ll let you know if the scholarship committee agrees when the winners are announced in September.

Isaac

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Have an adventurous day!

Becky

South Carolina Shrimp

Fresh shrimp from the South Carolina coast…Yum!

Our church staff attended a leadership conference in Anderson, South Carolina this week. When we arrived at the Holiday Inn Express, conference volunteers Dan and Leslie were waiting. They had a spread of delicious food for us in the lounge—barbeque, potato salad, cole slaw, and chocolate chip cookies, all homemade, and pounds and pounds of fresh boiled shrimp!

I evaluated the situation. (I always do that, though I don’t think about doing it or even realize I’m doing it. It’s an automatic action, a coping skill, an adaption talent.) “Buffet line—I’ll need to balance my plate on top of my prosthetic left hand while dipping the food with my right hand. Or maybe I can find a slight open spot on the counter where I can sit the edge of my plate and lean against it while dipping. Barbeque sauce—I might be able to get the top off of the bottle. If not, I’ll ask one of my coworkers to help me. Unpeeled shrimp—Maybe I’ll skip the shrimp. No, I really want some. I’ll just get three or four. Then if I can’t get the first one peeled, I’ll leave them on my plate.”

As we started through the line, Dan noticed that I was struggling a bit with my plate. He offered to help and I gratefully let him. Then Leslie announced, “Does everybody know how to peel shrimp? If not, I’ll show you the technique.” I admitted, “I don’t know how. I’ll need a lesson.” Six-foot-five Dan leaned down and quietly asked, “Would you like for me to peel your shrimp?” I answered, “That would be great.”

The food was SO GOOD, especially the shrimp. I caught myself mumbling phrases after every bite like “oh, my gosh, this is delicious” and “this is the best shrimp I’ve ever eaten.” About the time my shrimp was gone, Dan made his way to my table and asked, “Would you like some more shrimp?” I blurted out, “Yes!” He sat down at the next table, peeled a dozen shrimp, and placed them in front of me. I ate all but one, which I generously gave away. (Did I really eat fifteen shrimp?)

I learned as much from Dan on that Wednesday evening as I did from the conference on Thursday.

• Be on the lookout for people who are struggling.
• Offer to help them; don’t wait to be asked.
• Offer quietly, not to be noticed.
• Peel shrimp for people—not just four, but sixteen!

 

“Never walk away from someone who deserves help; your hand is God’s hand for that person.” Proverbs 3:27

The church where I work... www.crosspointlive.tv

Ogres and A’s

Like most of you, on the day I turned sixteen, I was at the license exam station to take my driving test. I was quite shaken. I had heard all the stories about the ogre who administered the test. But he wasn’t so bad and I passed without harm.

The lady at the desk snapped my picture before giving me a chance to arrange my hair or smile. She printed my temporary license and handed it to me. I was a licensed driver! I walked away slowly, reading every word… Rebecca Gail Selby, 7463 Germantown Road, Middletown, Ohio, Sex: F, HT: 4’ 11”, WT: 95, Eyes: Blue, Hair: Brown, Restrictions: PA. I stopped. Restrictions? I marched right back to the lady at the desk and asked what the heck the P and A following the word Restrictions meant. She explained that the P required my vehicle to have power steering or a spinner knob and the A required it to be automatic shift.

Ok. I could accept the P. Steering into tight spots without power steering was difficult with one arm. But the A… that one was not acceptable. My dad’s jeep was a stick shift and I knew I could drive it. My friend Donna’s car was a stick shift and I drove it, too. No, this one was going to cramp me. My eyes searched the office for the ogre. There he was. I approached him and ever so sweetly but boldly asked, “If I can pass the driving test in a stick shift, will you remove this A from my license?” He looked a little surprised, but he said that he would. I left, borrowed Donna’s red Toyota, returned, retook the test, and passed. The examiner removed the A.

Everyone deals with restrictions in life. Some restrictions are P’s: justified and necessary for our own good or the good of others. But some restrictions are A’s: unjustified and imposed upon us by ogres. Here’s my advice. Graciously and respectfully accept the P’s. Fight with all you’ve got to get the A’s removed.

“Christ has set us free to live a free life. So take your stand! Never again let anyone put a harness of slavery on you.” Galatians 5:1

 

Fire at Sea

Travel is one of life’s great adventures. I’ve experienced a 675-mile yard sale, slept in the top of a castle in Germany, ridden a prop plane through a tornado in North Dakota, accidentally taken my family to a topless beach in Mexico, stood on a mountain in Vermont that inspired The Sound of Music, and stayed in a creepy abandoned hospital overlooking the “Hollywood” sign.

When travel involves flying, the adventure escalates. My prosthetic left arm sets off all kinds of alarms going through security checkpoints. I get wanded and patted just like on Law and Order. And since 9/11, I even get swabbed for explosives! The officers swab the shoulder and hand of my prosthetic arm and then test the swab using an ETD (Explosive Trace Detection) machine.

But I must say my greatest travel adventure was a fire at sea. My family of four was in a tiny cabin on the Carnival cruise ship Fantasy. I was in the shower, the kids were getting dressed for dinner, and my husband Tim was going to iron his shirt. He unplugged the TV from the 220-volt outlet and plugged the 110-volt iron into it. A few seconds later he tapped on the bathroom door and said, “Beck, I think we’ve got a problem.” I stuck my head out the door into a smoke-filled room. I screamed, “Get the kids out!” I grabbed the only piece of clothing in sight, a jacket, and pulled it on as I ran into the hall calling for the cabin steward. He came running, took one look at the smoke rolling out of our cabin, and raced for help. Within seconds, white uniforms were everywhere, running up and down the hall and in and out of our cabin. I even recognized one of them as the purser. In shock, the four of us stood in the hall and watched. Then all of a sudden I realized… I was totally naked except for a very short jacket. I backed up against the wall and stood statue still for the next hour. The crew eventually got the problem resolved and we were able to return to our cabin. The fire didn’t kill my husband, but I wanted to.

My next travel adventure is scheduled for October—a lobster bake and whale watching in Bar Harbor, Maine! The outlets are 110 there, right?

“I came that they may have and enjoy life, and have it in abundance (to the full, till it overflows).” John 10:10

Becky and Tim- Vermont 2009

Friday Night Lights

I was at every high school football game for four years, but I don’t think I ever watched one. Football games weren’t about football. They were about putting on those shiny Sheer Energy pantyhose, white boots with red pompoms, a red and white uniform with a short skirt, and red tights underneath. They were about dancing crazy on the sidelines while the band played stand songs. They were about shivering under blankets on cold Ohio nights and drinking hot chocolate from the concession stand. They were about walking around with boyfriends during third quarter. And they were definitely about the halftime show.

Usually the drill team used shakers for their routines. That worked great for me. I could hold a shaker in my prosthetic left hand and no one knew the difference. I’d practice while watching my reflection in the porch windows of my house to make sure the movements with my left arm looked the same as the movements with my right arm. All was well until THE RED AND WHITE GLOVES.

Beth, our captain, announced that we would be using some really cool gloves for our next routine. They were white on the back and red on the palm. At various points in the routine we would flash all white and at other points we would flash all red. It was going to be SO neat! And I was SO not going to be able to do it! My prosthetic hand would only open and close; it wouldn’t rotate at the wrist and the fingers wouldn’t straighten out.

Discussing the situation at supper, I told my dad, “I’m going to have to sit the bench this game.” He scrunched his forehead and said, “Don’t give up just yet. Let me think about it.” He went to work that night at Armco Steel and got his fellow machinists to think about it, too. This is what they came up with. They connected the rotating mechanism from an ice-cream scooper to my prosthetic wrist and cabling. Then they fashioned straight “fingers” from strips of metal, padded around them, and pulled my red and white glove over them. It looked just like a hand. The movements that previously opened and closed my hand amazingly rotated my hand from red to white!

I don’t remember who the quarterback was that Friday night or even who was the Most Valuable Player. I only remember that my dad was the star of the game.

“As a father has compassion on his children, so the Lord has compassion on those who fear him.” Psalm 103:13

2 scoops of Cookies & Cream, please!

iPod Arm

The Utah Myoelectric Arm became available in 1981 and, shortly thereafter, I got one. It cost $27,000! Thankfully, my insurance covered most of it. The arm had an electric elbow and an electric hand, both powered by rechargeable battery packs. It was like “Back To The Future.”

My existing upper arm slid into a socket that was held on by suction. Within the socket were electrodes, strategically placed to pick up signals from muscle contractions. When I flexed my front muscle, the elbow raised the forearm. When I flexed my back muscle, the elbow lowered the forearm. When I flexed the front and back muscles simultaneously, the elbow locked in its present position. (Confused yet? Hang on. There’s more.) Once the elbow locked, I flexed the front muscle to open the hand and the back muscle to close the hand. It took serious concentration and lots of practice. I dare you to try it. See if you can flex your front and back upper arm muscles separately.

Because the arm was in the early stages of development, I felt it had some “bugs” in it. It was extremely heavy, the electric motors were loud, the battery packs ran down quickly, and the elbow and hand movements were slow. Also, I didn’t always have full control over the movements. For example, when you bend over to pick something up, you don’t let your arms fall freely forward. You hold them back using your upper arm muscles. But with my upper arm muscles connected to electrodes, my hand would start opening and closing. I hated that! I promise, one time my hand started operating when I walked under some power lines. I’m not sure that’s even possible, but it happened. (Maybe I was flexing muscles and didn’t realize it.) It freaked me out. I eventually gave up and went back to a cable-operated arm.

Many improvements have been made in the last 30 years. I’m getting an itch to try again. I’ve been researching and thinking and praying and contacting some amazing people. There is now a Utah Arm 2 and a Utah Arm 3! (U2 and U3 for short.) Elbows and hands operate via tiny microcomputers. Electric wrists rotate 360 degrees. I even found an arm that has a built-in iPod Shuffle with stereo speakers. I really need one of those. I wonder if my insurance company would go for it.

“With your well-muscled arm and your grip of steel—nobody trifles with you!” Psalm 89:13

iPod Arm

The Joke’s on You

Cassie, Isaac and I were out for a fun day of shopping at the mall in Florence, Kentucky. Isaac, 12 at the time, had bought a coat at the Gap. He was carrying the bag with those string handles across his shoulders like a backpack. Cassie, 16, had found some PJs at Penneys and we were checking out.

Jeremy was running the register. We didn’t know Jeremy. That’s just what his nametag said. He was a friendly guy. Lots of teenage guys are friendly when Cassie is with us. He talked non-stop while scanning the tag and taking our debit card.

In the meantime, the weight of the Gap bag became uncomfortable for Isaac so he started working to get the string handles off of his shoulders. Jeremy, trying to think of the next thing to say, blurted out, “Yeah, you better get that bag off of your shoulder or it will cut your circulation and your arm will fall off.” My kids’ heads spun around toward me. I kept looking at Jeremy. But he didn’t shut up. He asked Isaac, “What’s your name?” When Isaac told him, Jeremy said, “They’ll start calling you one-armed Isaac.” Again my kids’ heads spun around to me. They’ve never seen me chew somebody up and spit them out, but I think they were waiting to see if it might happen. This time I glanced at them, winked, and looked back at Jeremy. We all laughed. He thought we liked his joke. He had no idea the joke was on him.

“God has brought me laughter, and everyone who hears about this will laugh with me.” Genesis 21:6

Cassie and Isaac (I think)