Things I Have To Deal With Now That I Never Thought I Would Have To
Always know what your right foot is doing at all times
This may be something you were like "Uhhh, isn't that your brain's job?' and you're right! Unfortunately, I find myself doing countless things for my brain these days, as if it's sleeping off a hangover, and I have to pinch-hit for a minute. Or, like, seven and a half months.
What, you might ask, are the consequences of not paying attention to my right foot? I'm glad you asked! So the other week at the gym I FELL OFF THE ROWING MACHINE, because my right foot was eating a cannoli or waiting in line at the 7-11 or whatever. It wasn't that big of a deal, I just made sure not to make any eye contact with anyone milling about in the gym, because if you don't make eye contact, it didn't happen. At least not in my world. Lesson learned: everybody keep your eye on your right foot.
Because walking
This is an extension of the previous rule, except now you're trying to move your carcass across the room. It's pretty embarrassing when you have to learn how to walk again, and even more humiliating when your PT says, "Well you pretty much have the legwork down, but you look like a robot. Try moving your shoulders and your hips." This is great advice, but less good if you have a foot flopping like a fish out of water, because then you get a lot of strange looks, like, "Where did you get a foot that flops like that?" and you have to explain you're just naturally gifted, and they feel bad that on the day that God was giving out Floppy Feet, they decided to stay in bed, while I, on the other hand, apparently showed up coffee and donuts. So awkward,
And have you ever fallen down while standing up? Like, not standing on one leg or hopping around, but standing up and BOOM, faceplant. I have! You guys, walking is really hard! It's like yoga, without those cute pants, and then you have the leg work, along with the hips/shoulders moving, and the right foot flopping, and you think to yourself "This is a lot to remember; I better just have a bagel." And you have an existential crisis right there on your sofa.
Spellcheck is there for a reason
Forget how to spell apocalypse? Put the letters in mostly random order (the "a" has to come first) and right click to find out. The only thing is you have to get most of the letters in there, because otherwise, Spellcheck will assume you're trying to spell acapulco, which no.
Take notes, even if they look like doo-doo
I have always prided myself on my handwriting. One of many, many things my stroke taught me was humility, which was a particularly hard sell when I had to admit to myself that I was never going to do calligraphy again, and I should be grateful for the "sticks drawn along a poorly repaired stretch of highway" that is my handwriting now. So now I pretend I'm all bad-ass and have to use a cipher that nobody understands but me. Hey, you have your fantasies, just let me have mine.
Today, my right hand just said "No"
In the same vein as Nancy Reagan to drugs, my hand decided to be a little bitch that just said "no." This was a little bit disconcerting. "Weren't you typing or writing or playing with thera-putty, like, yesterday?" I ask, and my hand says, as if it were talking to an idiot, "Uh, yeah, but we're taking a different direction with this; try to keep up." Know why? Me neither!
Talking, or no one needs to know your every thought
I'm super-talky for an introvert, Well, at least I used to be. The problem is that my brain wants to say whatever sarcastic comment comes to mind during a meeting, sitting on the couch with my husband, or over the cubicle walls, while my mouth has other plans. The other week, I ran into somebody from work, and I managed to sound like a delirious fangirl. What I wanted to say was "I have something for you" and what I ended up saying was "Well, I got a thing for you like remember when you made a picture of that kangaroo flipping the bird? It's like that."
I said "Happy dingledays!" to my pharmacist instead of wishing him a good holiday.
WHAT.
It's like I know what I want to say, it's just when I face this buffet of options, everything comes out sideways. I have to remind myself that not everyone wants to know what I have to say and--this just in: NOBODY CARES.
Don't be fooled by my wordplay on this blog--a LOT of spellcheck and carefully rephrasing thoughts went into it. Aphasia and ataxia is not for the faint of heart. Talking to me is taking a turn on the roulette wheel.
And that about sums it up for this episode of "What the..."
This may be something you were like "Uhhh, isn't that your brain's job?' and you're right! Unfortunately, I find myself doing countless things for my brain these days, as if it's sleeping off a hangover, and I have to pinch-hit for a minute. Or, like, seven and a half months.
What, you might ask, are the consequences of not paying attention to my right foot? I'm glad you asked! So the other week at the gym I FELL OFF THE ROWING MACHINE, because my right foot was eating a cannoli or waiting in line at the 7-11 or whatever. It wasn't that big of a deal, I just made sure not to make any eye contact with anyone milling about in the gym, because if you don't make eye contact, it didn't happen. At least not in my world. Lesson learned: everybody keep your eye on your right foot.
Because walking
This is an extension of the previous rule, except now you're trying to move your carcass across the room. It's pretty embarrassing when you have to learn how to walk again, and even more humiliating when your PT says, "Well you pretty much have the legwork down, but you look like a robot. Try moving your shoulders and your hips." This is great advice, but less good if you have a foot flopping like a fish out of water, because then you get a lot of strange looks, like, "Where did you get a foot that flops like that?" and you have to explain you're just naturally gifted, and they feel bad that on the day that God was giving out Floppy Feet, they decided to stay in bed, while I, on the other hand, apparently showed up coffee and donuts. So awkward,
And have you ever fallen down while standing up? Like, not standing on one leg or hopping around, but standing up and BOOM, faceplant. I have! You guys, walking is really hard! It's like yoga, without those cute pants, and then you have the leg work, along with the hips/shoulders moving, and the right foot flopping, and you think to yourself "This is a lot to remember; I better just have a bagel." And you have an existential crisis right there on your sofa.
Spellcheck is there for a reason
Forget how to spell apocalypse? Put the letters in mostly random order (the "a" has to come first) and right click to find out. The only thing is you have to get most of the letters in there, because otherwise, Spellcheck will assume you're trying to spell acapulco, which no.
Take notes, even if they look like doo-doo
I have always prided myself on my handwriting. One of many, many things my stroke taught me was humility, which was a particularly hard sell when I had to admit to myself that I was never going to do calligraphy again, and I should be grateful for the "sticks drawn along a poorly repaired stretch of highway" that is my handwriting now. So now I pretend I'm all bad-ass and have to use a cipher that nobody understands but me. Hey, you have your fantasies, just let me have mine.
Today, my right hand just said "No"
In the same vein as Nancy Reagan to drugs, my hand decided to be a little bitch that just said "no." This was a little bit disconcerting. "Weren't you typing or writing or playing with thera-putty, like, yesterday?" I ask, and my hand says, as if it were talking to an idiot, "Uh, yeah, but we're taking a different direction with this; try to keep up." Know why? Me neither!
Talking, or no one needs to know your every thought
I'm super-talky for an introvert, Well, at least I used to be. The problem is that my brain wants to say whatever sarcastic comment comes to mind during a meeting, sitting on the couch with my husband, or over the cubicle walls, while my mouth has other plans. The other week, I ran into somebody from work, and I managed to sound like a delirious fangirl. What I wanted to say was "I have something for you" and what I ended up saying was "Well, I got a thing for you like remember when you made a picture of that kangaroo flipping the bird? It's like that."
I said "Happy dingledays!" to my pharmacist instead of wishing him a good holiday.
WHAT.
It's like I know what I want to say, it's just when I face this buffet of options, everything comes out sideways. I have to remind myself that not everyone wants to know what I have to say and--this just in: NOBODY CARES.
Don't be fooled by my wordplay on this blog--a LOT of spellcheck and carefully rephrasing thoughts went into it. Aphasia and ataxia is not for the faint of heart. Talking to me is taking a turn on the roulette wheel.
And that about sums it up for this episode of "What the..."
I love this whole entry so much. Again the hilarious humor.
ReplyDeleteFor one thing (and this is so trivial, forgive me), but about spelling and the word apocalypse and it starting with an "a" -- did you know that if the final letter of a word and the initial letter of a word are in their correct spots, even though the word is completely scrambled otherwise, our brains can usually decode it at a glance? A quirk about the boundary, or something. apploycase. I dunno, that's what I was told.
If you don't make eye contact, it didn't happen. The day God was giving out floppy feet you showed up with coffee and donuts, soo awkward. Haha. This is all so hard to remember, I better just have a bagel. And the thing about HANDWRITING. So relate to that. But at the TIME, were you able to find any humor in the situation? At the time, were you thinking, "I've lost {this}" or "I've lost {that}" -- or would you NOT grieving and being annoyed, but instead "progressing" and moving forward? I don't think I could have had as much optimism. I think I would have been whiny and dejected. Heck, I'm a pouter and whiner right NOW for far less stuff. Such see a drive and a strong spirit in you. The fact that you took your swimming lap total to 30 shows how determined you really were to regain life and functional territory. This is inspiring to me because, heck, I give up on littler things without hardly trying. If you could muster up this much energy to address the problems, then I should be able, also (and maybe I will try).
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