Limb-loss Lessons from the Robotic Nurse

by Lakeisha Jacobs

The life of an elementary school nurse is not that demanding. But there’s one demand in my job that none of the other nurses I know have to deal with: Students approach me on a daily basis asking, “Nurse Jacobs, why do you got a robotic leg?” 

They are referring to the prosthesis I wear in order to walk. I am very familiar with being interrogated about my leg, especially by children. Curiosity just gets the best of them sometimes.  

When my students ask this question, I always reply, “My leg got really sick one day, so the doctor had to take it off in order to save my life.” My answer usually catches them off guard. Some kids just stare back at me without even saying a word—like they can’t process the information. I take these opportunities to tell my story and do some health teaching as well.  

I don’t ever tell them how traumatic my experience was. I was always an overweight child, weighing 280 pounds when I was only 11. I had respiratory problems and was not as active as I should have been. And my brother and I grew up poor in a single mother’s household, so we ate only what we could afford. That included too many carbohydrates and sugary drinks.  

Before I reached my 12th birthday, I was diagnosed with type 2 diabetes. I can remember the doctors actually scratching their heads. Back then, it was uncommon for anyone under 40 years old to receive this diagnosis. And I was just a child! Maybe this is why they did not aggressively push me to improve my diet and get more exercise. I was such a rare case, they didn’t know what to do with me.  

My own school nurses didn’t know what to do with me, either. Instead of teaching me about nutrition and fitness, most attempted to put me on harsh, restrictive diets. They seemed to want to punish me for my weight, rather than teach me a healthier lifestyle. I was constantly told I was too fat. These cruel words came from the mouths not only of nurses but also teachers, doctors, and especially my peers. Instead of steering me toward better choices, their criticism just made me feel lonely, which pushed me toward the wrong foods for comfort.  

Maybe I failed that aspect of the deal. Or maybe the adults in my life failed me. Maybe some of both. 

When I was 34, with two small children to care for, I underwent a left below-the-knee amputation due to sepsis from an abscess on my foot. It was a serious infection that almost ended my life. I thought my life was over anyway as a new amputee. I went into a major depression and avoided people as much as possible. Then my husband took me to my son’s soccer game in a wheelchair. I was so angry at him at first. When I think back, I am so happy he did that. 

Being back in the community helped me start living again. And I started to see a new purpose: Teaching kids to make better decisions than I did as a child. I went back to college and earned an RN credential. I am currently in my last semester of receiving my bachelor’s degree in nursing. 

As a school nurse, I not only educate my students but also share health information with the awesome educators I work with. Once kids get past their questions about my leg, we go on to discuss ways that we can be healthy, such as exercising and choosing proper nutrition. I encourage them to eat green (all colors) vegetables and a variety of fruits. The “yuck” faces I get when I talk about vegetables always cause me to chuckle.  

I love where I am in life right now. I get to be around awesome students and work with super staff at a wonderful school in the best district. I get to share practical knowledge and inspiration with kiddos from all backgrounds. I feel confident in telling my story, and I want to continue to guide children who are prone to obesity and diabetes toward better outcomes. 

Had I acquired this knowledge when I was an elementary student, maybe my health challenges could have been prevented. Hopefully, I can help prevent others from going down the same path. 

Lakeisha Jacobs is an elementary school nurse at Travis Elementary School in Port Arthur, Texas.

Amplitude