ABOUT THE WEB AUTHOR
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My name is Christina Skoski M.D. I have been a
Hemipelvectomy amputee since 1962 and a Doctor since 1972. Having a foot in both worlds, I
am in a unique position. I am able to relate personally to the problems and concerns of
the high level amputee, but also able to understand the limits of prosthetics and medicine
in today’s world. I don’t claim to have all the answers, nor do I hold myself
out as a role model to either world. My intent with this web site is to provide correct,
reliable, realistic information, and to act as an informal representative; a liaison
between these worlds, for the education and benefit of all. The impetus for this site
began simply out of selfish need, a personal crisis.
Like many other amputees, I had adjusted and gotten on with my life. One morning in Jan,'97, I went to put on my prosthesis to go to work as usual. Suddenly, it no longer fit correctly, I had broken a rib. My comfortable, normal life came to a screeching halt. Overnight I had become like a new amputee all over again. I was in pain, couldn’t walk, and became angry, afraid, and felt sorry for myself because I had no place to turn for help. My old leg was over 12 years old and my former prosthetist had retired. I had to start from scratch to find a new prosthetist, research the new advances in prosthetic technology and have a new leg made. The information I found about the new socket concepts and materials was confusing and I knew from past experience it isn’t as easy as some CPs were advertising. I finally got my new leg, but it took months and it was a daunting task. With all I knew, and had been through before, why did I have so much trouble getting clear, concise, reliable information to make an informed decision how to proceed? How much more difficult it must be for a new amputee? There’s got to be a better way. That is why I decided to create this site. Perhaps it will help change things for the better.
As I’ve asked the others on the Support Network, my personal bio follows below. Some may wish to skip directly to my modified CV.
My cancer was initially diagnosed behind the left knee in 1957, a low grade fascial fibrosarcoma. I was 11 at the time in the 5th grade. In an attempt to save my leg, I underwent multiple wide local excisions of the recurrent tumor over the next 5 years since Chemo and Radiation were not options at the time. With each surgery I lost more and more function, muscles, tendons and nerves which were sacrificed along with the tumor. By age 15, a sophomore in High School, I needed to wear a full leg brace made of leather and metal to walk, to support my knee and drop foot. It was ugly, heavy and required awful orthopedic shoes. When the cancer reoccurred, amputation was advised again. By now my leg was fairly useless, and a source of nothing but trouble. I just wanted to get on with my life, without repeated trips to the hospital for surgery. I was psychologically prepared, and it truly was not a difficult decision to make. The only questions I had were: "Will this cure me once and for all? Will I walk? Will I be able to wear regular real shoes?" YES was the answer to all three, and I had my Hemipelvectomy in January 1962.
I was lucky that I was young, trusting, and clueless as to the enormity of this decision. I just assumed that I would live, and assumed that I would walk. Youth and ignorance has it’s advantages. Time has a way of making us minimize the pain, heartache, frustrations, the fears and many tears shed during this time, but I do remember it all. I hated going out in public with one leg and crutches and had to be forced by my family. I was home tutored for the rest of the term but I was bound and determined to walk, to get my life back and to function normally again. It was not an easy time.
Back then there was no such thing as a support group and frankly I didn’t need one. My friends were always around, but the best support I received was from my immediate family. My Mother was and still is a rock. She is a tough, smart, realistic, no-nonsense and independent woman. Feeling sorry for myself was just not an option. I would not be where I am today if not for her strength and common sense. Thanks Mom for pushing me. My Father provided unconditional love, support and self esteem. I had lost a leg, not my brain or abilities. He was so proud of me and there was nothing he wouldn’t do to help me reach my potential. I only regret that he did not live to see me graduate from Medical school. My brother always treated me normally, never let me take myself too seriously and could always lift my spirits with teasing or a joke. He has always been there for me when I needed him.
What I really could have used was some practical information about the leg, how to adapt and what were realistic expectations. I knew nothing. I had read some articles about other amputees, what they could do, but soon learned that hemipelvectomies are different from the lower levels of amputation. I really expected to be trying out for cheerleaders soon, it was a shock and disappointment when reality hit.
My first leg was horrible. It had a rock hard socket, with a carved wooden leg, ugly as sin, with a crude elastic strap to control the hip. The first time I saw it I cried and asked the prosthetist "You’ve got to be kidding, people walk in these things?" It took an enormous amount of energy to walk; it was exhausting. I couldn’t wait to get home and take it off, and I sweated like a pig. I never thought I would ever get used to wearing it. But what were my choices? I was determined to go back to school walking on two legs. Mom simply said "If others can do it, so can you". I was sent for rehabilitation to a major facility, and quickly saw that many people were much worse off than me.
The idea of becoming a doctor was suggested by one of my home tutors during my recuperation. I always was a good student, especially Math and Science, and always assumed I would become a teacher or perhaps a lab technician. One day, he asked "Why don’t you think about becoming a Doctor?" "I can’t be a Doctor, I have one leg!" was my answer. He replied simply "Why not??"... Why not indeed? His brief response changed my life. The more I thought about it, the better it sounded. Until then I just I wanted to be normal, to participate in all the regular activities of a teenage girl. This goal was even better, to have a meaningful career, be independent, to have an interesting life, and a secure future. I dreaded the thought of ignorant people deciding my job potential. I’m very self reliant and stubborn, I never have liked anyone telling me what I could and could not do. My motivation was self centered and naive, but it turned out to be the best decision I ever made.
I returned to school in my Junior year. I was scared to death, incredibly self conscious, but determined to get back to as normal a life as possible. It was very hard getting around with the new leg. It took several months before I had the guts to leave my crutch at home and make it through the day on my own two legs. Over the next year I learned by trial and error how to do the things I wanted to do, to adapt. It was a gradual, slow process, successes and failures, good times and bad. By the time I graduated from high school, I was able to get around pretty well. It took a long time to build up the stamina I needed. I definitely pushed myself.
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With my Father at College Graduation |
By the time I finished college, I truly considered myself a normal person who just happened to have one leg. I was fully capable of functioning in the real world. Having to put my leg on each morning became no different than reaching for my glasses, just another necessary device. Time and practice works. I did what I wanted, didn’t do the things I couldn’t, learned the difference, and ignored the rest. Medical school was a challenge academically and physically. I asked for no exceptions and none were given. Working on the wards, having to wear my leg for up to 24 hours at a time was tough; it got worse during Internship and Residency. I just made up my mind never to use the leg as an excuse if I expected to be treated equally. It’s the same today.
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Late 60's, last wooden leg |
I went through several different legs in the early years, fewer as time went on, and found what worked, what didn't. I switched from exoskeletal to endoskeletal in the 70's. It’s much more cosmetically acceptable. My new leg has a double layer socket of carbon fiber rigid support, inner layer of "bioplastic". It’s more comfortable, especially around the ribs ( I’ve broken several ribs over the years wearing a prosthesis). This new material is definitely better. Comfort is a relative term; every leg, including this one, is hot. I sweat and occasionally get sores, but have developed a tolerance to discomfort. My components are a mix of high and low tech by choice because they fulfill my personal needs, I’m used to them and they work well for me. I have a Otto Bock 7E5 hip with manual lock. This limits my stride and is very secure. I have a simple 4 bar knee and the CenturyXXII adjustable heel height articulated ankle with dynamic response foot which allows me to wear different a variety of shoes heel heights....(I am a shoe freak). This year I had the Century XXII combination shock/torque absorber mounted, the change has been subtle but better. At this time in my life my priorities are stability and low maintenance. Although I like my new prosthetist, Mike Clapp, I have better things to do with my time than spend it sitting in his office. I walk with an obvious limp, my gait stinks, but have adopted a "So What" attitude.
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My Wedding Day, 1976 |
Although I have an outgoing personality and have always been accepted by my peers, dating in high school was non existent. It got marginally better in college and I blossomed in medical school. All I needed were men who could see beyond the leg. I never thought I would ever marry, but while in Residency, Mr. Right came along. Harry and I have been married since 1976. For him the leg has just never been an issue, he couldn’t care less. We have no kids by choice. An important decision, made for personal, career and practical reasons of prosthesis use and my options at the time. No regrets, not everyone was meant to be a mother.
I LOVE to travel. My first big trip was in 1967. I spent three months touring Europe alone. My Mother was a nervous wreck, my Father encouraged me to go. He was a machinist by trade and fabricated a pair of collapsible travel crutches for me. It was an exhilarating, wonderful, yet frightening and exhausting experience. How I ever managed alone, I don’t know, (Eurail pass, no reservations and no itinerary) but I did. I returned home with the newly found self confidence that I could take care of myself no matter what, a wealth of experience, and lust for more. Traveling has remained a very important part of my life, I’m always looking forward and planning where can I go next. If you'd like to see some pictures from my travels, go to My Travels.
I’ve been working full time practicing Anesthesia since 1975. Since I take call every 3rd night and every 3rd weekend, spare time is at a premium, even more so since I started working on this site. Besides our travels, my hobbies are sewing, crafts, music (playing piano), reading, gourmet cooking when I have the time. I also enjoy going to concerts, theater and the ballet.
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At work in the Operating Room |
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I admit, I am proud of what I have accomplished in my life. It has not come easy. I come from a modest background, I’m a first generation American; my parents were immigrants from Poland who came to this country with nothing and never had the luxury of an education. I was a clinic patient and my education was financed through scholarships and government aid. Everything I have achieved has been through hard work, determination, and some good luck.
I had nothing to do with the amputee world and had never met another hemipelvectomy until my life crisis 2 years ago. I found the Amputee Coalition of America and learned how to use the computer. This has changed my life. I haven’t considered myself disabled or handicapped for a very long time. Amputee had been on the bottom of the list as to my identity, but it unexpectedly surfaced again. Now more mature, and with my medical background, I was encouraged to "come out", to share my life experience with others. I offer no excuses, better late than never. I fully understand that everyone’s experience will be different. I know how hard it is, certainly harder for some than for others, but I’ve tried my best to remain objective.
