I broke my foot in April 2012. As of this writing, I am sporting an ever-so-fashionable CAM walker and have developed a very recognizable teeter-tottering gait.
Housework with limited mobility is quite challenging. Take, for example, changing the bed sheets. Queen size fitted sheets are cumbersome on a good day (before Martha Stewart went to jail, I recorded an episode of her show which purported to teach anyone how to fold a fitted sheet- even after much rewinding and play back, my sheets remain artfully rolled into a massive heap of wrinkles and only stay in the closet because they are wedged in so tightly between the shelves that only an earthquake, or opening the closet door too quickly, can easily dislodge them). So, getting the sheet on the bed with only one good leg to stand on requires flexibility, patience, and the ability to shimmy the sheet underneath your body (perhaps with your teeth) while you are splayed across the bed holding one corner down with your right hand, and the diagonal corner with your left foot. The biggest problem with this procedure is the potential to strangle yourself as the corners inevitably pop off and you lurch to right them before they do.
Another challenging task while one is hobbled is vacuuming. Something Martha taught me that DID work, was that one should gracefully drape the electrical cord of the vacuum over one's shoulder as they work the machine around the room, thereby eliminating the risk of running over the cord, or the very real possibility (in my case, at least) of tripping over the cord and ending up ass-down on the dirty carpet. So it was that I was clomping around in my CAM walker, with the cord over my shoulder, when I decided to tackle the bathroom floor. In order to get into the corners, I needed to use the hose and attachments that store conveniently on my Kenmore upright. Everything was fine until I bent down to pick the rug up off the floor. In one fluid motion, as I bent down, my right arm (the one holding the vacuum hose) came up and my mop of hair found itself forcefully sucked into the hose. Despite the claims of Dyson... my vacuum cleaner bag does not seem to significantly dull the suction of my machine as it fills, and within a fraction of a second, my earring had been ripped from my head and lost down the tube.
Thankfully, I had the presence of mind, even amid the slightly hysterical wheezing screams that escaped me during this fiasco, to turn off the vacuum cleaner and release myself from its grasp. I was simultaneously relieved and disappointed that no-one had been there to witness- of course I was embarrassed, but I was also laughing uncontrollably (after the pain in my ear subsided a bit) and I wanted someone else to share in my idiocy. So, as all rational people do these days, I posted my experience on Facebook.
As I expected, I got a lot of laughs and I felt better knowing I had made some friends smile. But, then, I had the most ridiculous argument in the world (which is quite a claim coming from someone who almost got divorced before she got married because of a supermarket altercation with her then fiancé who became insanely jealous when she commented that she thought Ricky Martin was hot after seeing him on the cover of a magazine at the checkout counter).
I had been casually dating Ike for about 6 weeks and he happened to call right after my bout with the vacuum. I told him the story, fully expecting a hearty laugh, and was shocked that he seemed concerned at first that I might be hurt (which was sort of sweet) but then angry when I said that I hadn't planned to retrieve the earring from the vacuum cleaner bag. I protested that it would make a giant mess to open up the bag; Ike suggested putting it inside a garbage bag first. I said the earring would be filthy and didn't want to put it back in my ear; Ike said to clean it with alcohol. I said that I would just rather go buy new earrings; Ike said to get the old one first and then go buy a pair of new earrings.
He was being very contentious, and I don't know why exactly... I can only surmise that he felt throwing away the other earring was wasteful?? So, this argument went on for a while, until I finally relented and went to get the earring out of the bag. Luckily it was right on top, and I did not have to make a mess to retrieve it. I sent Ike a message that I had done so and that he was right; it hadn't been that bad to get it back. He stated in return that he was usually right. I was still a little pissy that he'd copped an attitude with me in the first place, so I let him know that that was quite a coincidence because so was I (usually right, in case you lost the thread here). So he wrote, "Well, that won't work".
I guess he was right after all.
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