DISABILITIES

By Daniel J. Vance

Zelda Taft, 76, of Santa Rosa Beach, Florida, has been dealing with severe osteoarthritis for at least a decade. And she enjoys reading this column in the Fort Walton Sun.

“I've had two knee replacements that help me get around,” she said in a telephone interview about her disability. “Doctors can't do anything about my left foot, though; it's crooked. Walking is hard for me at times.”

According to the National Institutes of Health website, osteoarthritis affects about 20 million Americans and is “the most common type of arthritis, especially among older people.” It's a joint disease that causes the shock-absorbing cartilage surrounding joints to break down and wear away, leaving bone to rub against bone. People with osteoarthritis almost always have joint pain and limited movement.

“I still walk, but use a cane,” she said of her condition. “The stiffness in my walking seems to have gotten worse the last couple months. I'm determined that I'm going to keep walking if I can. If I give in to [the osteoarthritis], I'll get to where I can't walk. The main thing is to keep going.”

Like many people with osteoarthritis, Zelda has struggled with getting into and out of her bathtub and her automobile. As for the latter, she and her daughter recently talked about finding another car to drive that's easier for her to exit. Zelda still drives by herself.

A widow for eleven years, she moved not long ago from Arkansas to Florida in order to be near her daughter and son. “But I don't want to be a burden to them,” she said. “I'm building a little addition to my daughter's house. I want to be close by, but not live right in with her family because I respect their privacy.”

She said she “wouldn't know what to do” if it wasn't for her daughter, who cares for her and often takes her to doctor's appointments.

What is truly remarkable about Zelda Taft is her ongoing loyalty to her son, who was seriously injured in a 1982 automobile accident. He lives nearby in a nursing home and has a far more challenging disability than osteoarthritis.

“He can hear messages, but can't talk back,” she said of her daily visits. “But he knows me when I visit. When I ask questions, he blinks once for yes, and doesn't blink for no.”

For more, see www.danieljvance.com or www.niams.nih.gov