Diversion For The Disabled

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Being home in a recuperative state, I am at the mercy of those around me. I feel guilty depending on others for nearly everything.

Everyone has been wonderful. Friends and neighbors have sent cards, books, magazines, food and flowers. My two girls have given up their usual freedom to wait on me hand and foot.

Trouble is…everyone at my house but me likes to sleep late. I’ve always been a morning person. When the sun is up, I’m ready to be awake, and, although I don’t always pop right out of bed, I will readily accept a breakfast tray soon after I wake when I decide to lie in and read.

How demanding am I allowed to be in my present state and not become hated by my loved ones? Laid up in these casts, I’m really in a bind – bad pun intended.

One afternoon, I watched Flintstone cartoons with my 10-year-old, Kathie, and we shelled peas. Since Grandpa knew that I felt guilty sitting around, he decided he’d clean the four rows of peas in the garden that had been left too long. We shelled old peas for hours, (my hand that’s in a splint is a little slow.)

Josie, 14, has been up to her elbows in dishes and laundry (and the unsavory task of tending my bedside potty). One afternoon she entered her room, which I’ve taken over and said, “Now, what was I doing in here?” She left, probably retracing her steps, and returned soon after giving me a knowing glance I smiled inside. How many times has she caught me in a forgetful state and thought old Mom had lost it? My dilemma is forcing her to grow up fast.

Now that I have new wheels, (no, not a car – I won’t be driving for a while), a wheelchair with a shelf arrangement to prop my leg cast, I can get out and about.

I went to a parade this weekend that Kathie was in with the Salem Community Theater’s float and the cast from the Wizard of Oz – it plays the first three weekends in August.

After the parade, I had a big evening. My family wheeled me up an easy access ramp into Mrs. T’s “Home of the Original Steak Salad.” I had a wonderful dinner (I could be wheeled right up to the table and lean over my plate so I didn’t spill as much as I usually do.

There was a pool table, so while we waited for our meals, we played partners at 8-ball – the girls against Mark and me. They rolled my chair around the pool table and my left arm helped steady the cue stick. I actually pocketed a couple balls and I never play pool. We beat the girls.

I was awfully tired that night and next morning, but it was worth it.

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