Pam Keaton - Artist and Author

 

PERSONALITY...UNINTERRUPTED

By Pam Keaton - October, 2011

 

Click photo to enlarge

 

          Within twenty seconds of entering the small waiting room and taking a seat, I attracted the curiosity of an energetic two-year-old named Megan.  She was so tiny and dainty, I thought I might be able to stuff her into my backpack and take her home with me; and I told her mother that if that girl worked just a little bit harder at being cute, I might do just that.  While Megan’s mother flipped through my art portfolio, the two-year-old scampered around the room—dragging behind her a six foot tail.  Megan was wearing a harness and tether designed to look as though she was giving a piggy back ride to a stuffed monkey.  The cute animal was—no doubt—for the child’s enjoyment; and the tether?  Well…that was for her protection.

 

          Megan wasn’t the only little girl in the room.  Her sister, Abigail, also wandered around going about her four-year-old business.  Now and then, she returned to her mother’s side to pass on a bit of big sister intel.  Did her mother notice, for example, that Megan was talking to a stranger?  Abigail patted her mother on the thigh and pointed at Megan and me; but the look Abigail gave me was not one of fear or distrust; it was merely big sister responsibility.  Having received her mother’s blessing, Abby relaxed and accepted my presence as comfortably as if she had seen me in that waiting room during every one of her many visits to Fidelity Orthopedic.

 

          Abby is at that special age—the age when she’s pretty sure that the world is her playground.  Not only does she have the ability to move around more freely than her heavily-protected younger sister; she also has powers of observation and deductive reasoning.  She’s at that age when she is capable of questioning the existence of Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny; but she’s just as willing to accept them.  Nothing seems to have stunted Abby’s perfectly normal emotional development—not even  the fact that Abby does her wandering, observing, and reasoning all while wearing two prosthetic legs.

 

          Abby’s legs were amputated very early in life as a corrective measure for Tibial Hemimelia—a rare birth occurrence where part of a child’s shin bone or tibia is missing.  In most cases, amputation is necessary in order to present to that child what the rest of us, too often, take for granted—two strong, capable legs.

 

          Abby, her mother, and Hilmo—the prosthetist responsible for Abby’s new legs—all allowed me to join them in the therapy room.  As the two little girls frolicked, I saw that the waiting room had, obviously, been too small and constricting for all of their energy.  In the therapy room, they could run around in circles, hang on parallel bars, and stare at themselves appreciatively in a floor length mirror.  For at least part of the time, Abby led Megan around by her long monkey tail—stopping at the water cooler to get herself, her mother, and her little sister a small waxed cup of refreshment.  As two-year-old girls will, Megan made several attempts to stick her greedy fingers in and steal the water “show;” but, each time, Abby, gently, pushed her hands aside—as big sisters will.

 

          That was when it occurred to me that Abby is not all that different from any other little girl.  She, certainly, has endured more poking, prodding, and “doctoring” than other children her age have to deal with; and learning to walk was—no doubt—much more difficult for her.  I’m sure that the bewildered stares from other kids and the compassionate lingering eyes of adults have already become old news to her.  At four years old, Abby is accustomed to appraising attention and—in that respect—she is (no pun intended) leaps and bounds ahead of ME at that age.  No—there wasn’t anything, physically, wrong with me as a child.  I was only born poor; but I let just that one factor cause me to be shy and awkward.  Most of the time, I didn’t feel accepted by the people around me—let alone admired.   

       

          I imagine that wherever Abby goes, she will be greatly admired; but it won’t be based upon whether or not her family is wealthy, famous, or “important.”  It won’t be because she was born with a rare deformity and had both of her legs amputated.  It won’t even be because her new legs are bright red and blue with pictures of “The Little Mermaid” on them.   Abby will be admired for her determination…for her positive attitude…and for her bright smile.  Abby will be admired, because—like many other happy, healthy, and confident young girls—she has PERSONALITY.  That personality has nothing, really, to do with her legs; but…then… thanks to the caring people at Fidelity Orthopedic, it, also, has NOTHING to do with a LACK of legs.  

 

          In a perfect world, precious little children wouldn’t have to be “special” as a result of overcoming some difficult obstacle.  They wouldn’t have to overcome poverty, deformities, disease, learning disabilities or—even worse—abandonment or abuse.  They would, simply, be allowed to be “plain old” kids who grow into doctors, lawyers, movie stars, or John and Jane Q. Public—if that is what they prefer. 

 

In the REAL world, helping people overcome their physical obstacles and go on with their lives “uninterrupted” is what the people at Fidelity Orthopedic are all about; and it’s what they’ve BEEN about for four generations.  The practitioners at Fidelity Orthopedic haven’t MADE Abby the person that she is.  She has done that on her own.  Fidelity Orthopedic, simply, helps Abby in the best way they can. 

 

It’s a pretty “special” way of helping, if you ask me.  As Abby continues to go about her life, she’ll be her own person with her own dreams…her own goals…and her own plans.  Fidelity Orthopedic will just continue doing for Abby what they do best. 

 

They will give her plans “legs.”           

 

 

 

 

 

BEAUTY...UNINTERRUPTED

 

 In September of 2011, Pam's artwork was featured in the advertising for a Dayton area prosthetic and orthotic facility.  Fidelity Orthopedic, Inc. has been providing products and services to the residents of Southwest Ohio since 1929.  It is Pam's hope that this and future artwork for this facility will draw special attention to these special people.  The prosthetic device featured is a violin bow adapter by TRS.