The woman behind the picture - Part 7: Sandra Harding

  Never Admit De-Feet


  I clearly remember  one October afternoon, sitting in the rocker in our living room, feeding our  one month-old son, having sent the three older  children off to school for the afternoon, and feeling so peaceful, grateful and content --- life was not just good, it was Great!  I felt contentment right through to my very soul, and was recovering quickly from this fourth c-section-  then life took  a right hand turn and a long, hard struggle  began for me.

  My husband was laid off before Christmas , and began searching for new  employment – a difficult process at mid-life.  He worked hard to find work and it took time. He eventually found work, and then decided he needed to go back to school part-time and get his MBA while working full-time with a courier company and serving as a Scout Master.   We talked as a family about how money was going to be tight now, and the two older girls started  doing a flyer route. I would help them get the flyers ready, then walk around our neighborhood  with them to do the deliveries.   After a few weeks, my feet started to hurt --  I rested them, iced them, and wore better runners, but it persisted.  This began a 19 year long struggle with sore feet that continues to this day and has changed my life.

 I developed Plantar fasciitis in both heels, and because of the shape of my feet, a very high arch, it took  a LONG time to settle down. -  years!    I was not used to having an injury that would not respond within a reasonable time to care and treatment, so I tried just “pushing through” and  only made it  worse.  Subconsciously, I began to put more weight on the front of my feet, to spare the heels, and  over time, developed neuromas, or inflamed nerves, in-between several of the joints on the forefoot, as well as dropped met – heads –   joints that just dropped out of position and also became inflamed. The fat pad on the front part of my feet shifted, leaving the joints without padding., It was like walking with marbles in your shoes on the front and sharp pain in the heels. 

  I started going to see podiatrists, seeking relief from the daily pain in my feet ---  it was a very difficult case to deal with.  I tried night-splints, anti-inflammatories, orthotics,  physio, chiro., you name it --- I tried it!!   I had four children at home, a husband  who was crazy busy, and  trying to help at home, but gone a Lot. I got so tired of just sitting and looking at all the things that  needed to be done, I started cleaning the house on my hands and knees!   I would watch the clock and wait for the  older girls to come home, and ask them to run downstairs and change the laundry for me , or do other things around the house - I  needed their help to do  things that I had previously taken care of myself.  This may not seem like a big deal to some – you may think “Well of course the kids can pitch in and help,” but it is not easy to be the mom who is used to doing all of this and now having to rely on her kids more and more, not just for a short time, but for years.     Not easy for the kids either --- God sent me Angel children!

I struggled to  take care of my family, serve in the community and church the way I had all of my life and the daily pain was grinding!  I was unable to exercise regularly as I had done before, I started to gain weight, I could not go and Hang out and play volleyball with my friends any more,  or even just go for a walk/hike  --    what was happening to my body???   This was not ME  ---  I began to feel discouraged as the years went by. I would have some periods when my feet would settle down somewhat and I could do more, but then I  would then develop some new “Thing”and it would start again.  It affected every aspect of my life---  it changed how I felt about myself.       I saw “Life” passing me by.

  I  eventually went to a foot surgeon  who said that he had 98% success treating plantar fasciitis and he felt he could improve the situation in my heels at least, so  I choose this route --- four surgeries later, my hopes were again dashed. The surgeon then  admitted he had never seen feet as difficult as mine , but he had  thought he could handle it ---Crumm!!

  We invested in a wheel chair so that I could go out and shop once in a while and I hated that thing --- did not like to be sitting in it, did not like to be stared at, etc.,  BUT at least I could get out of the house and do stuff. So I learned to be patient with those who stared (mostly!), and not worry about it (again, mostly!).  One day, while I was venting about my “necessary evil”, the Said wheelchair, to my older sister, she encouraged me to just decorate the thing with balloons and ride it in style ---- I thought to myself “Why don’t YOU ride it in style!”  I had yet to learn what SHE had learned after spending years in and out of the AB Childrens Hospital with a daughter who had two kidney transplants – life is what you make of it!

  We took this Said Wheel chair on our trip to Europe recently --- it was a choice between being able to go and see all that we wanted to or being restricted because of my feet .Did you know that cobblestones roads provide a free  “Mexican Massage” if you are sitting in a wheelchair!   Interesting ---it was also handy for hanging wet clothes on in the Hotel room and I much preferred this use of the  Said Chair.

     So, the long and short of it  is this ----------  I have had to accept the fact that my feet  will not EVER be what they were  and I have had to make a lot of adjustments.  I do things that I would not have done had my feet been healthy – like Family History, swimming classes, and art classes. Yet these things have become blessings in my life.  I take my hat off to my children and husband  who  even now will step up and ask how they can help me and encourage me to let them do things rather than be on my feet too much, and to a husband who rubs my feet every night  and gets groceries as often as he can. I could not have mentally and emotionally survived without my families help --- I hope that I give back to them what I have been given, maybe not in “Foot-reliant” things , but hopefully  in Life’s Lessons learned!

  One side note --- I have to wear these UGLY but very supportive and comfy dress shoes with all of my dresses/skirts .   My vanity  has had to learn that  “What I wear on my Feet does Not Determine who I am.”       And if people stare or make comments, then that is just because they do not understand.

    I have more to do in this life yet, and I am excited about that.  My feet have taught me a terrible lesson in patience, tenacity, depression,  relying on others, and never quitting. 

   Part of how I used to see myself was someone who was   Fit, Active, Slim, and Capable --  well, after many years of reduced activity,  I  have  put on several pounds, so “Slim” is out the window,  but I am still Capable and I try to be as Fit as I can.   My Body –image has had to change --- how I see myself,  how I feel about my body and especially my Feet ---  I have sometimes looked at my feet and  been embarrassed because of my crooked little toes  and scars from surgery,  or been upset that these feet are not carrying me through life the way I want them to --- until one doctor said he was surprised I had not given up and just sat in a wheel chair !  Now, I am thankful for these little feet of mine and I take care of them ---sometimes I look at others feet with a touch of envy, but these are what I have to work with and you know what, they are doing well, in spite of everything!

When I see someone else who is in a Wheelchair, or who has a Body  with Physical limitations, I really try to see past what is on the Outside and look into their eyes and see the Person , and talk to them, not over or around them.

 It is coming into Spring --- I have wept a few tears in writing this ---  BUT I want to say that I am content with my life, and I am grateful for what I have.  No doubt, Life will throw a few more curves my way --- it already has --  I will not be afraid of that(mostly!).  I will take what I have learned, trust in God and go on. The following lines have become some of my favorite poetry:   

“I am wounded, But I am not slain.

I think I’ll lay here and Bleed a while, Then rise to Fight Again.”