Well, it happened again.

Not once, but twice now I’ve been stopped while running by another amputee who just wanted to chat.

This time the man ran over to stop me. (I’m assuming he yelled first, but when I run with headphones in, I’m not listening to anything around me.) He waved his left arm, equipped with a body powered hook prosthetic, to show why he was stopping me.

Not knowing what else to say, I asked him how long he’s had it. Even as an amputee myself, I have no clue what’s appropriate to say. His hand had been run over by a train about 25 years ago when he was a boy. I responded with my short story — lost my hand about five years ago in a car accident. A few more minutes of small talk, and I continue on my run under the blazing sun.

Running isn’t a new hobby for me — I’ve been running distances for years ever since I trained for my first half marathon. But for some reason, I had never been recognized for my missing left hand, and now it’s happened twice in a short period of time. And I should note that these encounters were in two different locations.

Being an amputee is an interesting brand. Even though there are millions of us across the country, you don’t usually see them on a regular basis. Maybe that’s why when a fellow amputee sees me, they feel obligated to introduce themselves. When I notice another person without a hand, I usually don’t bother them, but I’ve heard from friends and family that they also find it hard not to stare or say, “Hey, I know someone like you!”

I don’t think people would be offended by anything like that, but I think it’s funny because I have no idea how I would react. I didn’t even know what to say when other amputees approached me. I think the bottom line is that it’s always good to be reminded I’m not alone as an amputee.

On a recent trip to Target, I was caught off guard when the cashier had the following dialogue with me:

Target employee: What happened to your hand?

Me: I was in a car accident.

Target employee: Ooohh… that must have hurt.

Me: Yes.

I paid for my items and left thinking about how unusual that was — most people won’t be that straightforward. It was kind of funny to me, especially the comment about it hurting. Hurting is an understatement. I’m not bothered by the bluntness, but I suppose I am glad I don’t have to explain why I’m missing a hand on a daily basis.

A man shakes his hand out of a car window and honks the horn, signaling for me to stop running. Before I know it, he’s pulled over and right next to the sidewalk with the passenger window rolled down.

I was less than a mile from home, almost finished with my 6-mile run that morning, but I decided to stop. It seemed like he needed directions, and with new student orientation happening at Indiana University, there’s no shortage of lost people in Bloomington.

The man quickly explains himself, probably thinking I’ll start running again at any moment. He says he’s seen me before, and noticed my missing left hand, so he wanted to stop and introduce himself this time.

His name is Jim, and he works at the Prosthetics Center of Indiana just down the road. He’s missing the lower part of one leg, and his son, who is sitting in the passenger seat, was born without a right hand.

He goes on to ask if my amputation was the result of an accident. I say, yes, about five years ago. He asks if I’m open to talking about my situation. I chuckle and say yes.

He says he’d love to hear more about my story because some of the amputees he works with could really use a positive perspective.

As traffic started getting backed up on the two-lane road, we parted ways, but with the invitation to stop by the prosthetics center and chat with him more sometime soon.

I’ve been told I have a great attitude about my circumstances, but I don’t need or want any admiration. I have this outlook because I decided for myself that this wasn’t going to negatively impact my life. But I would love it if I could help other amputees see that point of view. Amputees can do just about anything — some just don’t realize that right away.

Some might just need someone else to demonstrate how to do specific tasks, and I know from my experience that a two-handed person trying to teach me things isn’t really helpful. I remember the occupational therapist who visited me while I was still in the hospital in Indianapolis after my surgeries. She showed me a modified way to tie shoes, but struggled herself as she held an arm away. We didn’t actually time it, but I’m pretty certain I did it faster than her on my first try. And years later, I still tie shoes the regular way because I taught myself how to do it. It was easier than learning a completely new method.

I feel like these are useful things that new amputees might not know. I certainly didn’t right away. I went to countless occupational therapy lessons, occasionally leaving frustrated because I didn’t want to have to buy special knives to cut food or do everyday tasks differently than everyone else. When I tried learning to type again, I did some lessons modified for typing with one hand and hated it. I found my own way to do it, and I type at the same speed as before.

Maybe I was more motivated than other amputees, but maybe I can help motivate those people who need it. Bottom line is, I’m glad I stopped and met the random man honking and waving.

What will they come out with next?

Apparently, a prosthetic that allows you to feel.

According to a recent USA Today article, trials and studies are being done on a prosthetic hand that connects to electrodes surgically implanted in the amputee’s nerves, and it seems to be working.

The man who participated in the study in Switzerland said “it was magic” when researchers placed an item in his hand and he could feel that it was a baseball.

I think “magical” sounds like a pretty accurate description. One of the struggles, at least to me, with prosthetics now is that you can’t feel anything so you’re sense of what you’re doing with it is thrown off. You might not even realize you’re crushing a pop can, for example.

Before reading this article, I probably would have said what I wanted most was something waterproof, but that’s likely because I never would have thought having the feeling back was possible. Being waterproof is nothing compared to having feelings back.

Prosthetics have come a long way in recent years, don’t get me wrong, but this is the next logical step. The ability to have the fingers move individually exists and is improving with myoelectric hands, which is great. But now let’s get the ability to touch and feel. The concept is fairly similar to how myoelectric hands work now, except in this case the electrodes aren’t on the outside of your arm, they are implanted inside.

Given the surgery necessary for something like this, I’m sure it will be years before it starts spreading throughout the United States, but it’s a good sign of what’s to come.

Since the accident, my work out routine hasn’t been exactly the same.

I used to enjoy bench pressing and lifting weights, believe it or not, but I haven’t managed to figure out how to bench press with one hand, so I never do that anymore. Generally lifting weights is also pretty rare because I don’t want my muscles to be lopsided.

There’s also limitations on ab work outs. I generally adjust to anything that requires two hands by modifying it slightly, but this is usually within my own house and I’m by myself.

I recently went to a public fitness class though, and with only three people attending that morning, my disability was pretty obvious. To the class instructor’s credit, she adjusted very well. We were rotating through four different stations, and she didn’t make any of them require both hands even though she definitely could have. Jump ropes and weights were sitting on the side, and I’m assuming the stations have differed during other sessions.

To my delight, I didn’t have to experience the awkward moment of asking what I should do instead of jump roping or lifting weights or any other kind of two-handed exercise. The first set of stations were focused on legs, and she made sure I was comfortable before the next round of exercises, which included a plank.

She didn’t ask in front of the other people in class and just confirmed that I was OK to put weight on my arm in a plank.

The only part of the class where we ran into some difficulty was in stretching — one move involved holding your leg and twisting on the ground, which was easy for my right side but not for my left. Again, I was impressed when the instructor used her foot to push my leg in a certain position in place of my left hand.

What could have been a very awkward morning turned out to be a normal fitness class, which is exactly what I would hope for.

One thing I immediately knew I would have to learn after my car accident was learning to type quickly again.

Just like any other student, I was ordered to do typing drill after typing drill in middle school and high school. I learned which fingers belonged on which keys, and that the goal was to keep your hands centered on the keyboard with only your fingers moving slightly. After years of typing drills, I went to college with moderately fast and accurate skills.

Then I messed all that up and lost my left hand. Oops. No one teaches you how to type with one hand just in case you lose one, so I had to teach myself.

I tried doing modified typing drills designed for someone with only a right hand. I hated it. I was typing slow and still pecking at each key like someone new learning to type.

So, I tried my own method. I typed, a lot. I practiced, a lot. I didn’t have any other choice if I was going to survive another three years of college and become a professional journalist. The good news is I got better. Much better.

Now when I’m on a laptop in public, it’s not unusual for someone to notice my fingers quickly sliding across the keys. I type just as fast — if not faster — than I did with two hands.

The interesting thing to me though, is that when people make a comment about how they are impressed by my typing, no one finishes their thought and says “because you have one hand.” They just comment on my speed and move on. Sure, it’s possible these random compliments aren’t prompted by my one hand and maybe they’d still be impressed if I was typing at this speed with two hands. But I doubt it. My guess is that no one wants to point out the obvious and say that’s why or they just assume I understand.

For the record, I do understand, but I also don’t mind when people mention a fact that I’ve been well aware of for years.

There’s always good intentions behind a goal never reached, like losing weight or quitting smoking.

For me, it’s been writing on this blog. I revamped it awhile back, and at the time I was eager to regularly post updates. Then real life took over. I was working long hours and when my days were spent reading and writing, doing more reading and writing when I got home didn’t sound appealing.

My day job (or night job depending on the day of the week) hasn’t changed. I’m still a reporter who spends her days doing interviews, writing stories and editing copy. And I hope that doesn’t change.

But I don’t want this blog to be an afterthought. I don’t want to be able to push it aside and say I’ll write a post later.

So, I’m recommitting myself to regularly posting updates. At work, I also run a government blog for The Herald-Times, and my co-worker and I found that if we carve out a chunk of our day and dedicate that time only to working on the blog then we accomplish a lot more. I’m going to follow the same method here, and Wednesday mornings I will set aside some time to blogging.

Will I post every week? Every other week? I’m not promising an exact schedule, but I am promising to work on it more often. No more excuses.

Only having one hand provides plenty of opportunities for awkward moments. Here are a couple I’ve recently experienced:

— Not being able to juggle opening an earplugs package while holding a pen and notebook

I was out working on a story about the recent water plant expansion in Bloomington, and while on a tour of the plant, we needed to put ear plugs in before entering a building because of the loud machines. I tried to rip the plastic bag open quickly to get the ear plugs out, but it wasn’t fast enough. I could feel the eyes of my sources staring at me, wanting to offer to help, but luckily I snagged the ear plugs out before I had to decline assistance. It still was not a fun experience.

— Having hair in the drink I’m carrying with my arm

After the accident, I lost all of my hair and haven’t significantly cut it since, so my hair is the longest it has ever been since losing my left hand. I frequently take advantage of my left arm by carrying things with it, including cups, but my hair is so long now that I have to be careful not to let it dip inside the drink.

These last two aren’t really “awkward”, but they’re situations one-handed people find themselves in.

— You roll your ankle and refuse to see a doctor to avoid crutches

Recently rolled my ankle because I’m clumsy, and every time I somewhat hurt my ankle or foot, I ice it and hope for the best. I have no idea how I’d operate crutches with one hand, and I don’t want to find out.

— You don’t buy gloves because it’s a rip off

As much as I’d like to have gloves that aren’t plain and cost $1, I refuse to purchase gloves that won’t both work for my right hand. It just doesn’t make sense to pay for a glove I’d never use. I also feel the same way about manicures… I won’t get them because I believe I should pay half price.

When I moved to Kentucky last August, I knew I would never become a University of Kentucky fan. Regardless, I was told over and over again that someone would change my mind and that I’d be wearing blue some day.

That day never came, as I expected, and I recently moved back to Indiana where I’m wearing cream and crimson with pride. I didn’t think I’d live in Kentucky for the rest of my life, but I wasn’t sure on where my career would take me next. I definitely didn’t think I’d live in Bloomington again, but life is funny like that.

My last day in Frankfort was Sept. 6, and I said goodbye to friends and coworkers to head back to the Hoosier state. I started my job as the city reporter for The Herald-Times about two weeks ago, and I have no complaints so far about being back.

I did enjoy my year of living in Kentucky—watching (and betting on) horse racing for the first time, sampling bourbon and appreciating the beauty of the bluegrass. It was an adventure living somewhere completely new, figuring out how to cover the court system as a reporter and learning more about horse racing than I ever imagined.

That being said, I’m ready for the next adventure, and I’m excited to be covering the city of Bloomington. While I was at IU, I occasionally reported on city issues but never on a regular basis. Now I’ll be going to city council meetings every week, writing about all the different city departments and covering ongoing issues, like homelessness. It’s a big change from being a crime beat reporter, but it will be fun writing about a city I fell in love with years ago as a freshman in college.

And now I don’t have to convince anybody that IU is better than UK!