My First Cast Adventure, March 1997

The casts were applied by two different people.  One was a college-age caster who applied my left cast, and the other was a good friend who doesn't understand casting, but applied my right cast and let me spend the week with him in my useless condition.

They go up very high, dangerously high.  But the top couple of inches were only a couple of layers of fiber thick.  Although that was enough to convince my upper thighs, hips and glutes that the cast was rock hard, when I did accidentally squeeze Ozzie and Harriet between the casts, the softness of the bandages protected me.

I had walking heels, my toes could reach the ground and stabilize me, and the casts were as straight as I could make them without stressing my knees.  As a result, I was able to walk without crutches.  The steps were small, maybe six inches, gained by rocking from side to side, but since my interest is in completely immobilizing both of my legs, and not in crutching, these casts were perfect.

To answer another question people ask:  How did I get downstairs?  Simple:  I went down backwards, grabbing both handrails tightly as I could.  I would have been terrified to go down forwards.

How did people react?  Except for about half dozen cast-lovers (those are easy to spot when you're in 2llc), most people pretended not to notice me or my legs, in the same polite way you don't see someone in a wheelchair.  But if I initiated conversation with anyone, everyone was very friendly, helpful and curious.

How did I sleep?  On my side, casts one atop the other.  I slept on a couch, so it was easy to prop myself and my casts against the back of the couch.  I slept beautifully.

Was I surprised to wake up and find my legs in casts?  No.  There was a constant pressure on every square inch of both legs all the time, even when I slept.  My body got used to the casts very quickly.  I did spend a fair amount of time staring at them, touching them, thinking about what my new body could and could not do.  But every time I woke up, I knew the casts were there, and it felt natural.

How did they feel?  When I relaxed, they felt warm and very snug.  There was constant pressure against every part of my legs.  The feeling was there almost as soon as the casts had set, and the feeling never really changed.  I got very used to it.  The feeling itself was not a particular turnon, but every time I tried to twitch any leg muscles, I was instantly defeated.

What was the favorite thing about wearing them?  Looking down at my legs and seeing casts instead.  I couldn't get enough of that.  I never got used to seeing casts on my legs.  The feeling of the casts, the different way my body worked to compensate for the casts, that all came to me pretty quickly and naturally.  But I don't know if my brain would ever have gotten used to seeing those casts, not even after several months.  I hope one day to explore that theory.

What was my favorite moment?  At a Dallas mall, I had gotten myself some kind of drink.  I had toddled over to the wall, set my crutches aside, totally relaxed my legs and hips so I felt like I was sitting on the casts, and leaned against the wall.  People walked by, checking me out, not having a clue when I maxed out my quads by trying to straighten my legs, or maxed out my hamstrings trying to bend my legs.  No matter what I did with my leg muscles, it was my secret alone.

Did I spot any cast-lovers?  Yes.

• In a Grandy's restaurant a little kid, about six, was amazed at the sight of me.  I hope I didn't turn him.
•   I got my haircut at SuperCuts in 2llc.  It was my very favorite haircut.  I steered the conversation away from the accident to what it was like to get around in the casts.  After I left the barber, a guy followed my outside and watched me toddle all the way the the burger restaurant, more determined to capture every second of viewing time rather than try to pretend he wasn't staring.
• In a burger joint, two brothers couldn't take their eyes off of me.  One was so transfixed that he didn't even care that I saw him staring, and lusting for his own leg casts.  His little brother was more subtle, watching me from a distance, pretending not to.  I got my haircut at SuperCuts in 2llc.  It was my very favorite haircut.  I steered the conversation away from the accident to what it was like to get around in the casts.  After I left the barber, a guy followed my outside and watched me toddle all the way the the burger restaurant, more determined to capture every second of viewing time rather than try to pretend he wasn't staring.
• At KMart I tied my casts to the shopping basket of the electric shopping cart (I love those things), and saw a man who couldn't take his eyes of my casts.  I made a special point of passing by him as often as possible.

The thing I most hated about wearing the casts?  Washing myself.  Sponge bathing was sloppy and inefficient.  I love to shower, and I had to give up that luxury for the week.

How was it to get dressed?  Since my casts were nearly straight, my feet were about as far away from me as they could be.  So I used a crutch to stretch jock strap (with those high-topper casts, a must), underwear and shorts over one foot, then the other.  I wore the shortest shorts I could find, though they were still several inches too long.  Next time I will wear shorts that show the entire length of the casts.  And since the casts will go right up to my hips, I should probably get a pair of Speedos.

What was my story?  Front-line story:  I was the front-seat passenger in a tail-gater's car.  The beauty part of this story, besides being convincing, is that by the time the listener figured out what I said, he had no other questions.  But if I had really gotten busted, exposed as a cast-faker, my fallback excuse was that I was doing research for a story about a guy with two broken legs.

What was the toughest thing to do?  Although some things were more intimidating, or wore me out more, I never developed an easy way to get into/out of my friend's car.  I didn't mind it--it certainly reminded my of my disability--but it was one thing I absolutely had to do which was very awkward and just barely achievable.  If he had had a four-door car, I think I would have tried sitting sideways in the back seat.

Going to the bathroom, sitting down, was something I had assumed for years I could not do.  But I was able to grab a sturdy cabinet with my left arm, and use my right crutch to lower and raise myself.

What was the biggest surprise?  I had always assumed that 2llc would make life very difficult, perhaps even make it impossible for me to live independently.  But except for driving, everything was easier than I thought it would be.  I was almost disappointed at how easy it was.  It wore me out, made me use the wrong muscles for walking, and forced me to concentrate on every step, every maneuver, to the exclusion of much of what was going on around me.  I know now that if I had to, I could live the rest of my life in two full leg casts.  There are times I would hate it, but it wouldn't bring my active life to an end.

I have given much thought over the years to how I would react if someone put a pair of full leg casts on me, and no one could get them off, ever.  Living a life where the casts are accepted (because they can never be removed) would be wonderful.  If I am ever given a wish, this would be it.  Two full leg casts forever and ever and ever.  Whatever changes I would have to make, whatever I would have to give up, whatever physical suffering I would endure using my arms for walking, I would buy into, no questions asked.  I don't know if I was born to wear two full leg casts, but I do know that nothing else will make me as happy, as content, as complete.

I've never been asked this question, except by myself:  If I could snap my fingers and find myself in two comfortable full leg casts for the rest of my life, so that I would even be buried in them, would I go for it, would I think about it, or would I realize that losing the use of my legs puts me at a huge disadvantage in 90s America?  Without hesitation, I would snap my fingers, even realizing that in a few weeks I might consider it the biggest mistake I had ever made.  I suppose there is an element of self-destruction in my cast love, but this is the way I want my body to feel, look and work every day for the rest of my life.  Obviously the concept of "forever" is quite different in daydreams than it is from real life, and I understand that after a few months of not being able to use my legs I might really hate and regret what I had done.  But at every moment of my life for the past thirty years, I would have unhesitatingly taken that chance.