Act 3: Nobbe

My attention and patience now turns to Nobbe orthopedics. Nobbe has a well-earned monopoly in Santa Barbara to supply equipment and other necessities to the halt and the lame. They have been in business here since forever and have never had serious competition. This is because of the conscientious way they go about their business. The point man that has attended to my needs (shoes for diabetic feet seven years ago, post--toectomy) is Eric, a most pleasant and capable fixture at Nobbe. As an example of his service: I wear a boot protector, a cumbersome device that fits over my stump to protect it against unwanted encounters. The thing is highly effective, but requires an expert in the ins and outs of its straps and buckles in order to make it work properly. It is so designed that one need only unstrap the part that goes across the waist and the entire boot accommodatingly removes itself. Inevitably, every nurse who has no experience with this boot will unbuckle the entire device and try to put it back on. They never get it right -- so that it works, but only sort of. On the way back from the rehabilitation center Kay and I decided that we must at least try to see if there was anyone at Nobbe able to restore the boot -- it was scarcely doing its job after several bungled attempts at re-strapping it -- to its proper configuration. As it happens, we just caught Eric between appointments. He came out of the car, unbuckled the entire apparatus and re-buckled it as it should be buckled. That job done, I returned home with assurance.
At our appointment, two weeks ago Wednesday, Eric fitted the stump out in a shaper sock, which is a kind of double knit sock made of Ace bandage material. It is supposed to squeeze out the edema from the wound. Last Wednesday, Eric pronounced himself well pleased with the progress the stump was making. So much so that next week, he will take a casting for fitting a button--on leg. The first prosthetic will evidently be a training limb of some sort. If I get right everything I've been told, we will then proceed to intensive therapy attendant on getting a permanent prosthetic. Everyone tells me that getting one of these devices to function involves a lot of work on my part. Estimates of my capability with this thing vary widely. The surgeon made it sound as if it would be a walk in the park to walk down for the mail unaided. Another doctor claims I might need a walker for the rest of my walking life. Others say that I will be able to make do with a cane. I am used to a cane and would be happy to be able to get around using one. I guess we shall have to wait and see. For now, I am filling my dance card.