THE ONE HANDED
LIFE
11 June 2003
I finished addressing the package triumphantly. I managed to get it written using my
right hand and it was even legible. This was a videotape I promised to send out at the end
of last week and had not gotten to. But I'd done it. I managed to get it addressed. Then I
looked at the strip to seal the envelope and realized there was no way I could CLOSE it
and tape it as I always do. I had to leave that for Walt to do.
It's do-able, this one handed life (does anyone ever injure their NON-dominant
side?), but it definitely requires thought.
Yesterday Walt was giving me a hard time for moving furniture. I just tried to
straighten up the living room a bit after someone told me that she'd drop by to check on
me. But i discovered that I couldn't move heavy chairs with one hand, and since both knees
are so swollen, I couldn't push with my knees either, so I had to give that idea up. I
also picked a shirt up off the chair and then realized I couldn't hang it up.
I've thanked God for Cindy, who has kept my teeth in good working order, as I use them
to open packages, cartons of milk, etc.
One handed typing is a pain...and definitely not 130 wpm, but I can do it. I
can't function without a keyboard, though I did have to write some letters on my keyboard
since they've worn off over the years and I keep hitting the wrong keys.
I was even able to make a slideshow of Saturday's bike trip today....just to say I did
it.
But I try not to stay on the keyboard more than 30 minutes because I feel my muscles
start to tense and that can't be good for healing in my shoulder.
I've managed to do a few loads of wash, including my ever so fetching hospital gown,
which I managed to get out of (by myself, thankyewverymuch), after I found a very large
bathrobe that I can wear. I actually got into a long-outgrown dress yesterday, but it was
like being swathed like a mummy and much too claustrophobic.
I'm handling my meals ok during the day and told Walt I don't see any reason why he
shouldn't go camping with Ned, as planned, for Father's Day.
My most useful tool has become my backscratcher, which is good for everything from
scratching inside the immobilizer, or a spot on my leg where I can't bend over to reach,
to pulling things closer when I can't reach them on the table. (My knee, by the way,
is turning all sorts of lovely colors, in addition to collecting -- it seems -- at least a
liter of water.) I can push myself up out of a chair (thanks to a year plus of exercise), but I can't do it while holding a telephone.
I've managed to do a halfassed sponge bath and change my underwear (alert the media). I can unscrew a water bottle to drink, but can't refill it. I can pour coffee into my thermos cup, but can't grind beans to actually make coffee.
Yesterday I had 14 calls from the office but so far today none, so I guess Dr. G is
coping too. He's started interviewing for my replacement and if he hires someone, I'll
have more time off than originally anticipated, but that will be OK. He's found someone to
do his transcription, as has the psychiatrist, so I have NO work here to feel guilty
about.
It's day three and I'm adapting.