inMotion Magazine

November | December 2018 42 “Why me, why me, why me?” Repeating the wrong question can toss us into a sea of faithlessness, uncertainty and doubt. Since becoming an amputee, I have had and have answered a million questions. Although “Why me?” may be the most common question that anyone asks when beset by seemingly insurmountable obstacles, its interrogative kin (What, Who, When, Where and Wow), aren’t usually too far behind. After being an amputee for even a little while, we learn the dialogue and become pros at responding accordingly: What? “One or more of my limbs have been amputated.” Who? “Duh.” When? “Does it matter?... OK. (Insert month or year).” Where? “(Insert place).” How? “Ohhh, so you’re into the gory. Sicko!” Early in my healing process, I learned the amputee script and mastered a cheerful, positive, unaffected delivery, like a well-rehearsed actor, seemingly impromptu. Little did my audience know, I had spent days and nights pondering the same questions, hopping on my walker or crutches across the “boards” of the rehab center, my bedroom and the grand theater of nature, while hiking Skull Rock in Joshua Tree. Often, wondering would result in moments of feeling vulnerable and alone; eventually, the pondering turned into pain. No matter how many times we find ourselves in that Groundhog Day-esque moment, no one asks us these questions more than we ask ourselves. It’s taken some time, but I’ve finally come up with an answer to all of the seemingly answerless questions, and it all comes down to a matter of distance. Since becoming an amputee, I notice how much inches matter – from that bowl that’s a finger’s tip away on the top shelf, by Eric Quander Perspectives MY ANSWERS COME IN INCHES