Adapt

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Adapt

Published March 2, 2020 by helentastic67

Adapt

Being one handed, the most important thing I can recommend in order to survive is, learn to adapt.

It’s the day’s I go to the city and I do some hunter/gathering, that I push myself a little more and while it exhausts me, I notice how my physical body adapts.

My standard trips to the city meant a lot more steps and carrying. If I can’t carry it, I can’t buy it. So, I’ve gotten creative.

Yesterday, I bought two novels and a box of envelopes. Not heavy, just cumbersome and sharp corners. These day’s I travel with one of those fold up grandma bags. (Not a slur) but you can carry it around until you need it. It weighs nothing, takes up no space, but once it’s got two novels and inside it, I usually ask someone to help me put the handles on my left arm above where my cuff and collar sits, just on my elbow. The bag swings along my side and doesn’t hit my left thigh.

My next stop I collected comics, they are flat and not very heavy, so they go in my bag that sits on my right glutinous maximus. Slap, slap, slap.

Then I stopped at a chemist and picked up a few things. Definitely the weightiest purchases of the day. I might even have behind packaging to save or bulk. At this point I’ve reached my maximum density.

I’m starting to feel weighed down and I’m walking a little sideways and bumping into people. Or it could just be people on their devices not paying the least bit of attention to where they are.

After a quick pee break where the bag on my left arm stays there to save needing to put it back on. I walk not far to the tram or Bourke Street Mall and I get on the tram.


Waddling like a pregnant lady now, I try to get two seats near a door facing forward. I might start with one seat and the bag sits on my lap, the straps digging into my shoulders. My right leg in the isle making people brush against me. The bag on my left arm is beside me digging into whoever didn’t think to offer me both seats.


• I’ll just point out here I’m not bigger than Texas. I’m just a wide load by this stage.

Thirty-Five minutes later, I’m at my tram stop (Maybe I was able to spread out for the last 15-20 minutes) I stand up on the tram, readjust my bags, the strap on my left shoulder. I carry my walking stick with the wrist strap between my teeth, so it doesn’t bang all over every piece of metal known to man.


Have I mentioned, I can’t do stalker or stealth? I manoeuvre my way to a door, favouring my right side as that’s my better peripheral vision. All the better not to step on or bump into people and while holding on to one handle or another I manage to get to the right-hand door handle. Walking stick still in mouth.


Tram stops, door opens and I swing my left leg out and bending my right knee, step down. I don’t let go until both feet are on the ground. Hoping just hoping people have followed the road rules and cars have actually stopped at the back of the tram. Yeah! That does not always happen.

I then use my walking stick to walk to the curb. Right foot up, lift and swing left leg attempting left toes to clear the curb.


Fast forward to me getting inside my apartment. There have been days I’ve taken off the bags and weighed them and I’m surprised I’ve carried the extra five kilos home from the city.


But the biggest surprise to me is after I’ve unpacked everything and take my extra layers off (jacket, scarf, etc) I’m moving around my home feeling like I’m on a permanent tilt.


So, by gradually adding weight, my body compensates to do what I insist on it and when all of that is gone, my body still acts like it’s needing to adapt to carry the extra weight and that is today’s lesson.


You don’t know what you can do until you try. Do a little more on top of that and a migraine.

Adapt

Published March 11, 2019 by helentastic67

Adapt

Adapt

Now, for some light and shade. If you just turned ‘twenty-three’ it was pretty dark times. Although this story stems from a purchase from back then.

Improvise

When I finally got a queen-sized bed (my dad made me a sleigh bed) but more about that later. I bought some affordable pine furniture to fill my bedroom, two bedside tables, a tall boy with a large blanket drawer down the bottom and an upright bookcase with nice moulding on the top.

Pine furniture

Now, I said it was affordable, I meant cheap. However, I added some raw amber water-based paint, some patina (antiquing medium) and some polyurethane in a satin finish and more than a single effort with the sandpaper and what can I say? Carpenters daughter, right here.

Painting

Anyway, that’s the background, the tall boy in my current home lives in the ‘return’. File under ‘apartment living’, all new builds must have a window to every bedroom. That means my bedroom has a hallway like space to the window, where I have put my DVD, bookcases and the tall boy (and anything else that didn’t fit anywhere).

Bookcase

So, being one handed and because I don’t stand in front of the tall boy to get the draws open and closed (I did say cheap right? The draws aren’t on runners) making opening one-handed painful and the trials and dilemmas on being one handed and having limited space. I reached down and was hitting the drawer on both ends to get the thing closed.

Open draw

That’s all background you need so next is the punchline so I hope you stayed with me.

So, recently late one night, putting my clothes away, thinking I might even make it to be by 1am. (Yeah, it’s a realistic goal, even if it’s not one that makes my shrink happy) I obviously hit the tall boy draw one too many times, rather vigorously and the candle stick on top fell off and connected with the top of my head. Yes, it really hurt and yes, I used my favourite word. AND rather than slow it down, it seemed to gather speed as it hurtled towards my foot.

Kicking furniture

Which foot? I hear you ask. For those who don’t know or don’t remember, my left foot has been affected by my ‘stroke, not stroke’ as I like to call it.

Stroke no stroke

So, of course it landed on my right foot, because I can fucking feel that one. Sweet Jesus, it hurt so much. Lots of swearing as I hobbled to bed and even days later, here is a photo of my bruised toes.

Bruised toes 1Bruised toes 3

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Solution? Need to update the tall boy to open with drawers on coasters for easy sliding and good OH&S. Adapt! Adapt! Adapt!

Adapt and learn

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