Going Cyborg by Jillian Weise

GOING CYBORG
It was harder than usual to adjust to this new leg.
BY JILLIAN WEISE



On my birthday a few years ago, 1 taught class, called the guy 1 was sleeping with and then became a cyborg. I didn't know I was becoming a cyborg. I thought I was just getting a new leg. I've had 12 artificial legs in my life. The prosthetist said this leg would think 1,000 times per second about the ground. My parents said if I wanted the new leg, I better act fast. I was being released from their insurance. The guy I was sleeping with, Henry, said the new leg sounded hot, like something out of "Blade Runner." But 1 had never seen "Blade Runner."
I drove to the prosthetist's office. Whenever I say the word "prosthetist," someone inevitably says, "1 thought you said 'prostitute.''' 1 act like Ithinkit's real funny, too. I was annoyed about changing legs on my birthday. 1 told Henry not to plan anything.
The prosthetist led me down the hall toward the "walking room." The walking room had floor-to-ceiling mirrors and a runway with metal bars on both sides. Rod Stewart's "Maggie May" played. I put on the new leg. The prosthetist connected a laptop to the ankle. 'She said it ran software to communicate with the leg.
That was the first weird thing. I was leashed. Then I boarded the runway. She rolled alongside me on a stool. I took a step and felt the knee give. Another step. The leg beeped and buzzed. 1 asked her about the noise.
"I'm playing with the settings. Are you feeling resistance?"
1 was: 1 was psychologically opposed to a rackety leg. "1 don't want it to make noise." She said she could turn the sound off so it would just vibrate.
"Why does it even have to vibrate?"
"It only vibrates to tell you something." "What would it need to tell me?"
"Like ifitloses a charge or malfunctions."
How it might malfunction, I had no idea. This leg demanded entirely new thinking and new steps. I didn't know any of them. After a few clumsy attempts, 1 began to cry.
"Are you O.K.? What's the matter?" "Oh, nothing. 1 don't like the settings.'
[illian Weise is the author of a poetry collection, "The Amputee's Guide to Sex." Her first novel, "The Colony," will be published this spring.
"We'll find the right one. You'll see. Most people are thrilled with this leg."
"1 don't know howto walk," 1 said. Then 1 realized that she wouldn't understand. She knew how to walk.
"Your brain is confused," she said. As if this were comforting. "You're used to legs that require you to lock into a position. Get it?"
I did not get it. For five years I had walked on myoid hinged leg. 1 had been in my longest relationship with that leg and lived in three different states. I don't want to wax sentimental here and say it felt like dying, but it kind of did feel like dying. Goodbye hinge, goodbye foot, You're done. You're through.
Driving home, with crutches in the backseat and my old leg in the trunk, 1 wanted to tell Henry and my parents and everybody else: Damn you all for making me get this blasted leg! Why couldn't we fix myoid one? What's the point if! can't even walk on it?
It was embarrassing and frustrating and it was my birthday. Twenty-five years old. Also, Henry was not even mine. He belonged to some other woman, who lived in a different time zone, and had standard human parts, and liked to go camping, of all things. So what was I doing with him? Especially since 1 now required electricity and I couldn't make it from my car to my apartment without crutches.
There were roses by the door. From Henry. 1 couldn't even carry them inside. 1 called him: "Can we go to the mall? 1 want to hold on to your arm and practice walking. 1 want to pretend we're shopping for you. O.K.?"
"1 need a new jacket," Henry said. That's one of the reasons 1 loved him. 1 didn't have to say anything else. Henry was not a good boyfriend, obviously, but 1 still think he was a good person. He didn't teach me how to walk, but he gave me cover in Banana Republic and J. Crew as Itaught myself. Ithink if you're going to become a cyborg, you need a Henry. Someone to try on jackets.
Since then, I've been to the mall several times. Last spring 1 traveled to the southernmost city in the world. I had some problems. I did some buzzing. But I'm proud of it: I'm a cyborg. A few weeks ago, someone said, "1 don't think that makes you a cyborg since it's the leg that plugs into the wall."
"It's not the leg," 1 said. "It's my leg.".