I originally wanted my next post to be a continuation of my house hunting/home buying experience, but I got real busy with the move and then on November 9th, I tripped while attempting to skim my new pool and broke my ankle. I fell face forward into the pool decking and threw up my arms to brace myself for impact – and damaged those a bit as well. For three days I couldn’t really use my arms at all, and I’m still in a cast for the ankle, but every day, in every way, I’m getting better and better.
There are certain things you don’t pay any attention to until you HAVE to, and this experience has been a real eye-opener. Because it’s something I’m dealing with right now, I wanted to talk more about it. I’m very, very fortunate. I’m lucky I didn’t fall backwards and crack my skull. I’m lucky I didn’t actually break my arms, and they seem to be recovering nicely now. I’m lucky my boyfriend was home when this happened and was able to call 911 quickly, instead of lying on the ground for hours. Next to the ant trail. I’m lucky he lives with me and has been able to care for me during all this. But most of all, I’m lucky this is temporary.
You really don’t realize just how NOT handicapped accessible everything is, until you have to make it through on crutches or a wheelchair. I had to rent a knee scooter for work, because it’s such a long way to the back of my building and down the hallway to my office, that hobbling along on crutches was exhausting, painful and completely impractical. And believe me: you do NOT want to have to make that long, slow trek to the bathroom on crutches when you REALLY have to go because you were holding it in until your break. I’ve been told I need to put a horn on the thing, since I race down that hallway pretty quick sometimes.
Which brings me to this: Please, please, please, do NOT use the large bathroom stall unless you really need to, especially when all the other stalls are open. It may be 9 o’clock at night and most of the departments in the building are closed, but mine is not, and I can’t get my damn knee scooter into the little stalls. If you are using it, get out quickly - don’t sit in there and primp while I wait, and give me an “oh! Sorry!” when you come out. Jerk.
I notice all the rocks kicked onto the sidewalk from people who cross into the landscaping as a shortcut – the rocks that make my crutches and the scooter wheels skid. I pay real close attention to who opens doors for me, too. I notice who ignores me or looks away, who offers to hold an elevator or carry something for me, and those kind souls who wait while I trudge along, so that they can hold that door even though they’re so far ahead, because they saw me coming. This applies to the Uber drivers I had to use as well – who opened the door and got my crutches versus who let me manage it all on my own.
Since I broke my right ankle, I’m unable to drive, which is how I came to use Uber for the first time. Because I work second shift, my boyfriend is long gone to work before I have to go in and had to find another means. Fortunately he can pick me up, so I only have to pay one way. I have used traditional Taxis before, but I have a few friends who have used and driven for Uber, so I wanted to try it out. I have had to take it 5 times now, and only had the same driver twice. Every single time, they were at my door in about 6 minutes or less – it was awesome. And because you keep your card on file, there’s no worrying about whether you have enough cash on hand, or if they take credit cards. They pick you up, they drop you off, that’s it. The app was pretty easy to use and it’s been interesting to meet the different drivers. Some talk to me, some don’t. Some put me in the back, a couple let me ride up front. If you’re ever in a bind, I highly recommend it. I’ll write a separate blog about it someday.
And speaking of rides: the modes of transportation for those who need assistance are a joke, and awkward to use. Crutches kind of suck and need more padding. They rub up under your arm pits and after using them for a couple of days, I hurt in places that were fine when I started. I had a prescription for a wheelchair that I ended up not using, because the spaces in my house are just too narrow, nor would it have been very practical in the office, even when my arms weren’t hurting as much. Turning those suckers in tight spaces would not have been my idea of a good time. The knee scooter is a bit more flexible, but I’m a heavy girl, and out of shape. I have to hold my body in weird ways to balance properly while propelling myself with the left leg (far more exercise than you’d think). Plus, all my weight bearing down onto the top of my cast makes it dig into my leg, so I end up as tender in the shin as if I had rug burns. This means the next time I need to use it, it’s twice as uncomfortable.
I leave the scooter at my cubicle, because hauling it back and forth would be tricky with Ubering it, and I can’t find a way to carry it and my crutches. I have to use the crutches to and from the cubicle and my ride before and after work. This is a trick for another reason: trying to figure out how to carry my stuff with me. The scooter has a little basket at least, but I have learned to fit my coffee and water cups into my Steam Crow “Monster Search & Rescue” bag that has a strap I can sling over my other shoulder so it’s across my body like a messenger bag. Hurray for impulse nerd-gear purchases! I also have a lunch bag with a similar strap, so with the two at once, I look like some deranged human pack-mule.
I am so glad I’m pushing forty and no longer care about what people think I look like. For an insecure teenager, this would have been hell. For me, it’s just mostly annoying.
I’ve also come into more contact with doctors and nurses than I have in years, and my perception is still the same: most of them are overpriced and not nearly as helpful as they should be. The whole system is completely disorganized. My 7 hours waiting in the ER is a whole other rant. I do want to give props to the response team who hauled my fat ass to the hospital though, even if they did spell my name wrong.
I want to give props to my poor boyfriend, too, who has had to endure dealing with all of this beside me, at my beck and call, when what he had originally planned to do is play Fallout 4 nonstop. He’s had to do things to help me that I’m sure he never imagined he would. For that, I’m sorry. Thank you.
For everyone who has helped me, thank you. I do notice. I do appreciate it. Your kindness and consideration is what restores my hope for human beings in a chaotic world filled with antipathy. For some of you, I know that you see the little courtesies as basic common human behavior and can’t imagine anyone acting differently. But they do. You shine like a lone star in a dark night. Thank you for being you.
