Hmm, how should I approach that obstacle?

As someone who only has one real leg and wears a prosthetic that often doesn't do as she's told and even slides completely off at times, leaving me stranded, I know how badly this country needs more accessibility. But since I still have to get around all the current obstacles, I get creative while doing everything I can to live the fullest life possible.

When I see a giant step ahead or a rocky path, I take a moment to figuratively scratch my head and come up with my approach. Which leg should I lead with? What can I brace myself with? Is my leg suctioned on well enough for this? It's like a video game in my mind, except I don't get to attempt three times before my character dies and then just start over again. If I go down hard, it's game over. And a fall could take me out of the walking game for a week, depending on the severity. Falling safely is actually one of the first things I was taught as a prosthetic user. But it can't always be accomplished. The type of landing zone is a huge variable, and so is what I twist on the way down.

I love a free-standing bathtub. I know there are no handrails or thick ledges to help me get in, but I also know that one way or another, I'm going to take that bubble bath, so I usually envision my body as a Tetris piece ( the zig-zaggy one that's really hard to match stuff with) and look around the room to assess my tools. Side table? Step stool? Person who has already seen me naked? Trust me, I find a way.

I try my best to approach most things the way I do that very enticing, yet not disability-friendly bathtub. Accessibility might not be where it should be, but that doesn't stop me from showing up, figuring it out, and sometimes wobble-waltzing my way through life like a shopping cart with one rogue wheel. Sure, it takes longer. Sure, people stare. But I like to think they're just impressed with my ability to scale curbs like a one-legged ninja who refuses to be subtle about her entrance.

In the end, I may only have one leg, but I've got twice the determination, a decent sense of humor, and an honorary PhD in strategic bath entry. Life’s an adventure—and I'm hopping right through it.