Things may be a little different around here at The Kale Chronicles for awhile. I’ll have some guest posts. I’ll continue to paint. Mom and I will figure out some kind of cooking collaboration eventually. But, in the mean time, in case any of you have ever wondered what it is like to use a walker, I wrote a description as my morning’s writing practice. Enjoy.
The Walker Routine
I crawl or scoot to the edge of my bed to grab the walker from the foot where I left it. I stand up on my right foot and stomp-hop over to my bureau by the light from the window to pull out some thick socks. Because there is not enough light to see the socks’ color, I turn back to press the mouse: the light from my computer screen is enough to see by. I choose two red socks.
I turn and lean toward a chest, a plastic storage container where a few clothes currently rest, grabbing my holey cashmere sweater turned pajama top (I have enough worn-out cashmere for a lifetime of p.j.s). I turn again and take two steps back to the bed, where I sit and put on the socks.
Lifting the walker over a gap too narrow for it to transit, I then stand again and make my way down the hall to the head of the stairs. Using the window ledge and the banister as handholds, I lower myself down onto the top stair, left foot extended in front of me. I fold the walker and begin propelling myself down the stairs using my hands and my right foot, taking the walker with me. At the foot of the stairs I lower myself onto the narrow landing, scoot across to the last two stairs to the kitchen, unfold the walker and use my right leg and two walls to stand again.
I enter the kitchen, flipping on the light. The kettle is on the stove, but its lid is missing. I scan for the lid, feeling frustrated for a moment, until I see it sitting in the dish drainer. I stomp-hop over to the sink and fill the kettle half-full of cold water, pivoting to set it on the burner and turn the burner on. I tuck the red plastic filter cone and metal cup under my arm. Then it is back to the far counter, stomp, stomp, stomp, stomp, pushing the step ladder out of the way once, twice, three times to free access to the coffee and cereal cabinet. Leaning on the counter with my left elbow, I take out my coffee canister and a metal coffee measure. Then I stretch up as straight as I can to pull a coffee filter from the box on the second shelf.
Leaning on the counter again, I use two hands to open my coffee canister — it has a ring-pull mechanism that takes considerable strength to break the air lock. I measure two scoops of coffee beans into the grinder, plug it in and press on the lid to grind the beans. One-handed doesn’t work so well, so I lean both hands on the grinder. I fold out the paper cone into the red filter and aim the ground coffee into the cone, first from the grinder, then from the lid.
The easiest way to move objects when using a walker is to set them on a surface and then pivot to set them on another surface. I am able to set the filter cone on the edge of the stove. Then I stomp, stomp, stomp to the cupboard for a coffee mug and a Pyrex measuring cup: if I’m going to go through this for coffee it is going to be a perfectly-made cup of coffee.
By now the water is boiling. I turn it off and pour one cup over my coffee grounds, then one-quarter cup. Ten ounces of decaf is my daily ration. While the coffee drips. I take the long way around to the refrigerator: it is just steps from the stove, but the walker will not go through on that side, so I walk all the way around the stove island to get the half and half, in a carton, thankfully, not a pitcher. Using the pivoting transfer technique I move the half and half from the refrigerator to the counter to the stove to the opposite counter.
I stomp, stomp, stomp back to the first counter to get a muffin out of the dish cupboard, stomp, stomp, stomp to the microwave to heat it. I am getting tired and pull it out and put it on a saucer after twenty-five seconds. Pivot-transfer to stove. Pivot-transfer to counter. Pivot-transfer to edge of breakfast room credenza. Pivot-transfer to table. Remove filter cone from coffee mug and place on metal cup. Pivot-transfer coffee-mug to counter. Pivot-transfer to credenza. Pivot-transfer to table. Stomp back for half and half. Pivot-transfer, pivot-transfer, pivot-transfer.
Sit down. Ah. Prop left foot over rung of walker. Pour half and half in coffee. Take bite of muffin. Chew. Drink more coffee. Consider getting cut grapefruit from fridge. Decide it is too much work. Take saucer and mug back to kitchen: if I am careful and dishes are empty I can hold one item between each thumb and some fingers and still grasp the walker firmly. Stomp, stomp, stomp. Reverse stomp. Retrieve half and half by pivot-transfer method and return it to fridge.
Stomp over to sink. Open cabinet. Bend down over top of walker, balancing to get compost can. Set compost can on edge of sink. Stomp back for used coffee filter. Place in compost. Replace compost under sink. Dabble hand in dishwater.
Grab clean water bottle for return trip upstairs. Stomp to foot of stairs. Sit. Fold walker. The easiest way to climb is to use a cross-wise technique: use left hand to grab a few stairs behind you. Use right foot to push off lower stair. Use right hand to hold folded walker steady against wall. Move water bottle up a few steps with right hand. Move walker with right hand. Move self with right foot and left hand. By the time I reach the landing I am sweating.
I gain the upstairs hallway, set my water bottle on the banister, unfold the walker, kneel and stand. I hook my thumb through the plastic loop on the water bottle lid and head for the bathroom. I don’t bother with closing the door: it is enough to set the water bottle on the counter, stomp across the floor to the commode and use the window ledge and sink edge to balance to pull down my pajama pants and pull my robe out of the way. Stand again.Yank pajamas up, first one side, then the other, while leaning on opposite side. Flush toilet. Wash hands. Lean against sink counter to brush teeth, which takes two hands. By now my right hip is cramping. I shift positions a bit while singing songs in my head to see that I brush long enough. Rinse toothbrush. Fill water bottle. Tuck thumb through loop. Turn and leave. Stomp, stomp, stomp, stomp. Stomp, stomp, stomp, stomp.
Sharyn, I’ll sorely miss your recipes, but please take care of yourself and your foot until they are well again.
Thinking of you and holding all my vegetables until you return with recipes for them.
P.S. My sour milk too.
No, no. Don’t save those vegetables. Get to work. You can call me for tips if you want. I’m doing my best. Stair-climbing with walker is good aerobics anyway!
How utterly exhausting! I take it the “stomp, stomp, stomp” must be the walker because your poor foot must be a miserable appendage by now–no stomping allowed. I hope you see your doctor soon and that the remedy does not involve further use of the walker! The whole episode is so much more poignant by how much you do by “foot travel”–keep us posted on your progress! Hugs! Debra
Very good, Debra. Yes, the stomp is the walker — they are noisy buggers. The left foot just hangs in the air, preferably touching nothing, and I have to be gentle with the right because it has to do extra work.
I did not know whether it was appropriate to click the “Like” button in this case, but decided that it was for surely even writing this account, on top of everything else that seems to be going on in and out of your kitchen, was a challenge in itself, if only because in doing so you had to relive the experience of the day. And I must say you convey the challenge of doing simple things with an uncooperative body part quite well. I was exhausted by the time I read half way through your post. Amazing that you managed to live up to the baking challenge as well. I would have destroyed everything around me the moment I dropped something. Your composure is admirable. A thought: would a cane upstairs and leaving the walker downstairs do any good? Just to make stair climbing “easier” and less encumbered. Hoping the good doctor will provide solutions that make for a smooth and easier recovery.
Don’t think I don’t scream occasionally. Usually just “Aaaaah” when I drop something or spill something. But these injuries tend to be a long-haul situation. Most people could handle this with crutches, but my balance isn’t good enough for that (and crutches on stairs are no fun either). A cane is not enough support to keep all of my weight off my left foot. If the injury is a fracture I’ll borrow a rolling office chair, push it with my right foot and supplement the walker with it upstairs. My doc is brilliant and has never done me wrong. but he says he can’t watch some of my antics.
I think perhaps those antics of yours are what make you so resilient and able to keep your composure and come up with creative solutions (adapt) when many of us would do far more damage than just scream Haaaaa! and with far lesser reason. Sounds like you have a doc who knows you well and treats people with dignity. That is probably a great bonus in any circumstance. Be well.
Thanks, Granny. We all have different strengths and never know how we will adapt to challenges. I have had a good foot doc for nearly seven years now, after five years of good and bad ones and I am grateful for his services.
How did the visit with the good doctor turn out, if I may ask? Hope you are already feeling better today. Have a good weekend.
Good news! No fracture. Instead an unknown soft-tissue injury. The x-rays showed really good bone mass in the left foot, so I am reassured that my bones are not crumbling, which was my worst fear. I get to stow the walker once again in the hall closet and walk on two feet as I was meant to. So, while I don’t get to find out what soft tissue I injured, I am cleared to walk again and am greatly relieved. Will be back in the kitchen (sans walker) this afternoon. Thanks for inquiring. And you have a good weekend, too.
Ha! That is such good news and thank you for sharing it. The burden of an injury, especially when it has no clear explanation, can have such an impact on the simplest activities of each day, and a great impact when we have activities we especially cherish. Happy return to the kitchen and looking forward to the next Blog post, sans walker and sans broken bones. Cheers!
Oh, dear.. all that stomping!! I hope you don’t hurt your good body parts in the process! I was exhausted just reading everything and have to go lay down for a rest:) I hope you recovery quickly, this is just such a nuisance for someone as active as you!
Yep, Smidge. ‘Tis a nuisance, but it is not life-threatening. Enjoy your lie down.
Although my situation was different, Sharyn, I remember all too well using a walker. It’s still here, too. I sincerely hope you won’t have to rely upon it for too long, the blogosphere just won’t be the same without you! Not to worry. I’ll be waiting for ya! 🙂
Thanks, John. I’ll be here, possibly without as many recipes. Mom and I cooked lunch together today. I did peeling, chopping and slicing and seasoning recommendations. She did the rest.
Oh my, Sharyn. I could feel your challenge every step of the way. I hope you get good news on Friday.
Thanks, Maura. It would be terrible to have been malingering, but people don’t often have naturally blue toes…
Good news is hoping that the toes are slightly bruised from your shoe as opposed to broken–the only time I had a blue toe –or worse . . .
Just came from the doctor, Maura. No fracture — and, as a bonus, there is a lot of good bone mass now in the formerly fractured foot. Beyond the temporary inconvenience, I was most worried about crumbling bones. Diagnosis: unknown soft tissue injury, possibly a ligament tear or even a ganglion.
Firstly I enjoyed today’s painting, Morning Coffee. And you have conveyed so well how much effort it has taken you to do just a few simple things. The description and use of the words stomp stomp really do tell a story in themselves. Claire
Thanks, Claire. I was pleased with the little coffee painting myself. I might do a few quick ones to go with writing during my convalescence — kind of like when some of you do a photo post.
That sounds ideal Sharyn, we get to see more of your work. But I’ve just read your good news (no fracture) so you may be back in the kitchen sooner rather than later. either way rest up 🙂
Thanks, Claire. I’m much better and was back in the kitchen yesterday — it’s such a relief to walk normally.
excellent writing, my friend. although my heart hurts for you.
Thanks, Neola. 95% slow description. Five percent editorial.
I’m to hear your news. I hope you feel better soon. I have to say that I love your painting and your writing sample though! When I broke my foot a few years back (and then again when I sprained my ankle on the same side), I would use a step stool as a walker in the kitchen and kind of drag myself around with it — it was useful to rest things on it –especially when getting things out of the refrigerator when I attempted to cook. So I can relate so well that all that stomping around in the kitchen. take care!!
I meant, I’m sorry to hear your news!
Thank you, Melissa. It’s good to be able to write and paint.
I’m so sorry to hear you’re having to use a walker. I hope it isn’t for too long. It all sounds so exhausting.
Well, it isn’t restful, Charlie Louie. The good news is that it was only a soft tissue injury and I am back to walking on two feet again. Hallelujah!
I, too, am sorry about the walker, Sharyn, but am glad it sounds like it isn’t life threatening and that it’s temporary. Also glad you will still post and share your paintings with us. Speedy recovery to you!
Thanks, Betsy. The walker is safely stowed back in the downstairs closet and I am walking around on two feet again. I baked my first gluten-free cake yesterday and will be writing about it tomorrow.
The walker sounds like a work out. You realize how unfriendly our city’s can be when you have to use a walker. But at least it helps you get around. Feel better soon.
Using a walker can be tiring and not many people realize that, which is one reason I wrote the piece. I have no compunction about bumping up or downstairs on my posterior if that is going to be easier, or sitting down an an escalator if it is going to save me from a 500-foot walk to the elevator. Fortunately, I am done with the walker again. I have a frightening (and hilarious) story about talking our subway system to a local play while using a walker, but I will save that for another time.
I saw Granny’s comment on the like button right after I hit it….and I had felt the same way. I’m glad you shared this with us, we don’t always realize the challenges people face. I work in a healthcare clinic/hospital and see many people in this situation but to actually read this from you has been very thought provoking. Hope you feel better soon.
The things we learn about people: I had missed the fact that you worked in healthcare. Your positive attitude and healthful eating probably help more people than you know (And I’ll bet they like your biscotti, too). My doctor’s office is full of cheerful, helpful people and it makes a big difference when I need to visit.