The Walking Rob

Losing a limb is hard work. There are so many things that you don't think about when you're told that a foot needs to be removed. The big things are the first to enter your mind. Obvious stuff, like walking, driving, and counting to twenty. But there are myriad small things that you don't realize at first. Simple things, like going to the bathroom, taking shower, and doing jumping jacks. But all of these things sort of pale in comparison to one very big thing that I did not think about. The zombie apocalypse.

For years I've had a zombie apocalypse plan. We've had a team hand picked, with each person bringing their own special talents to the team. We had a meeting place figured out. Pretty much any detail that you can think of, we've had planned out for a long time. Unfortunately we did not plan on my losing my right foot. And this obviously changes a lot. We want each team member to be able to carry their own weight. Clearly I can not do that. So I'm left wondering what use I would be to my team. Would I only drag them down?

What I brought to the team was very insignificant in the first place. We have a leader. Someone that can formulate a plan on the fly, and make sure we carry that plan out. That person was not me. We have a mechanic. Someone that can get a generator going, or make a car get us the hell out of Dodge. We have people that are good at hunting. We have people that are good with plant life. None of those people are me. The only thing that I really brought to the team was a sense of humor. I have a way of bringing a smile to people's face. But is that really so important when they are left with the not so small job of dealing with a crippled man? I don't really believe so.

So what new thing could I possibly bring to the team? Well, I've thought about it, and I could be zombie bait. In a pinch, if our camp was invaded, or we are being hobbled after by a pack of zombies, I could left behind as something to distract the horde of undead that are in pursuit. The problem here is that I don't really want to be left behind as food. That just sounds painful as hell. I don't want to be a quick snack. Although, at my weight, I guess I'd be more of a meal for a small horde. For a big horde, I would barely slow them down. Is my agonizing pain really worth the sacrifice? I'm going to go out on a limb here, and answer for myself. No. No it is not worth the pain. That sounds really terrible.

After many agonizing hours of deep thought, I decided that it would be better if I stepped down from my ZomPac team. With a heavy heart, I penned my letter of resignation, and submitted it to our team leader. Now, I don't know how long she thought about the current predicament that we found ourselves in, but when she came back with her reply, I wasn't immediately sure how to feel about it. My resignation was no accepted. She would not let me quit the team. This was going to be harder than I had thought. But, my mind had been made up.

"I just can't be a burden to the team," I told her. "What good would I be if I slowed us down, and turned us into a late night snack for the biters?"

It was then that she reminded me of Hershel Greene, the one legged bad-ass from the hit TV series, "The Walking Dead". Hershel was amazing. He quickly learned to adapt without his leg, and never seemed to much of a bother to anyone else on the team. The problem with her example is that I am no Hershel. Hershel was a strong, determined man, who had his own sense of leadership. And most importantly, he was their only true doctor. That alone made him worth the extra work that keeping him around brought. I bring none of these things to the table. Once again, I'm just a bit of a goof-ball. And I am certainly no doctor. Still, she would not be swayed. She would not be deterred. She would not let me leave the team.

As I move through this pre-apocalyptic world, I struggle with so many simple things. Learning to do so many tasks that were once so easy to me. I hobble around with a walker, my useless right leg dangling there in the air. Slowly things simple things are getting easier to me. But there is so much more that I need to learn to do for myself. It really is like being reset as a very young child, and you need others to help out in so many ways once again.

With each day, I get better. I get stronger. And I have a hell of a lot of determination. But, if the ZomPac were to strike tomorrow, would I be ready to survive in the post-apocalyptic world? At this point, I really don't think so. But if our ZomPac Team Leader believes in me, can I really afford to not believe in myself? Are there people that need me? It certainly feels nice to think so. It gives me a happy feeling in my heart.

Today, my friends, I leave you with these words of advice: Though the road ahead may be hard in a world that seems so simple, maybe it's best to prepare for the worst, and hope for the best. Oh sure, I may waste my time in trying to determine what good I would be in a world overrun by the walking dead. But then again, maybe I won't. The point here is, can I really afford to not at least spend some time pondering these things? In the event that zombies do end up ruling the Earth, isn't it better to at least have some sort of plan in place?

Thank you for your time. I now return you to your regularly scheduled internet of cat pics, and nudes.

-Rob