I wish I had more googly eyes in my life

Back again, with some slightly more humorous anecdotes this time.

Being a cripple, as you can imagine, I find myself feeling more vulnerable than usual. And never more so, than when I have the horrifying realisation, half way to the bus stop, that I have indeed FORGOTTEN to put the BELT on my jeans. I decided see if they could SQUEEZE over the turkey roll that was my foot, and (after a bit of time and pain) they did! I have managed to acquire what I call my 'sick belly'; which turned up after not leaving my room and storing A LOT of food within reach of my 'cripple bed', so I didn't think I would need my TRUSTY leather friend. Obviously I wasn't taking into account the EXTRA IMPACT of the hopping involved in my travel. Mistake not made again.


Now, if any of you are wondering, I do shower. Nearly daily. But, as I can't stand up whilst bathing, I have a SUPER shower stool. It is the PERFECT size for being able to reach the shower head when it's positioned right at the bottom. Such a wonderful solution I hear MYSELF cry. EXCEPT, when once, just ONCE, I forget to store away my bathing buddy:

I come up the stairs one afternoon to my only male house mate (who has been away all weekend, in the name of fun and socialising, on a very physically demanding team building and exorcise outing of some kind(!?)) declaring that my SHOWER STOOL was just what he needed   after such a shattering weekend!! Now every time I tentatively lower my DELICATE buttocks on to my tainted little seat, I have to try very hard NOT to imagine his SWEATY bollocks stuck to it whilst I wash. Vile.


For those of you who don't know me so well, you should know that I am not a shopper. Things don't fit me off the hanger if they have long SLEEVES or legs, or actually even a BODY either. I can't buy GIRLY shoes and I don't wear make up... I just don't often have the opportunity to part take in this activity. Especially when it comes to having the biggest shopping centre in Europe on my doorstep; Westfield Stratford City.
Which makes it even more worrying when I have an ACTUAL real life DESIRE to ENTER such an establishment and include myself in the going in and out of shops AND looking at stuff. WITH the aim to BUY.
This is of course, just soul destroying even thinking about doing this on crutches. BUT, and this is a big 'but', I have discovered SHOP MOBILITY. Yes! Allowing the disabled and slow to access the shops just as the 'normal' do! Just, lower down, where no one can see you until they're on top of you...; I exchange my crutches for a WHEELCHAIR!!
Going to the supermarket (when accompanied by responsible adults) is transformed into a DREAM. It's IDEAL terrain for a wheelchair; I just have to watch I don't get over excited and knock over small children. Awkward apologises...
Only thing is, most of my 'friends' are too ASHAMED to have me follow them around in a cripple enabling device. I think it's mostly jealousy, but I won't show them up. Only a couple have allowed my this JOY, and insisted on filming me as I was chased by children. SUCH fun.


Those of you more into your SLAPSTICK comedy, I don't disappoint. I have had to venture out in the rain. Pretty unavoidable. Which does usually leave me, at least once or twice, with my crutches outstretched to either side of me, where they have slipped on lovely GREEN lichen, or well POLISHED flooring. Meaning I am hunched over trying to figure out how best to manouver myself forward without it involving my FACE, or knees, making contact with the PAVEMENT. Who isn't up for a bit mild PERIL these days!?


I leave you with this; A CHALLENGE!!

Make yourself a cup of tea. Any sort with do, though I do enjoy the aroma of the fruit infusions.
Now, HOP into the NEXT room, and take your tea WITH you! Don't spill a drop. Well, okay, I'll allow you ONE drop!!
This, thanks to the beefy MUSCLES I have built up next to my amusing flabby yet skinny PIN on the other side, is a SKILL I have picked up. I'm amending my CV now; Super suspension in lower right limb!

Thanks for taking the time to exorcise your eyes :D

Love
C xxx

I wish I had a stair lift

I am now entering my seventh week of non weight bearing.

As, much as I want to come across as a hilarity, I can't help but feel this might be a bit on the grumbly side. I want you to laugh at me and with me though, so don't feel bad!!


My wrists are in constant pain from carrying the weight of ME around on them most of the day. I tell myself that I'll stop leaving the house until I can wash my back again without the fear of my hands falling off... Then I forget. Only to remember again when I'm in the shower and unable to reach my back. Dirty.

One of my most regular journeys I make as a cripple is to the hospital. Easy enough; a bus pretty much door to door. Then, I get to the lift. Which is behind a door. Why do lifts need to be behind big heavy doors, that most, including myself, struggle with, even with the FULL amount of able limbs!
This, I would probably be able to let go, if, when I got to my second floor destination (where all the broken, weak and injured people come to be seen by a  doctor/ nurse/ physio) I didn't have to go through THREE more sets of heavy, one way doors. WHY so many! Why not make them automatic to accommodate their clientèle?! Or at least the sort that STAY when you pull them open, rather than falling, full weight, back on me as I'm half way through, trying to keep a smile on my face, in case anyone saw!
I have quite a fun (and effective) technique of steadying myself on my crutches then propelling my bum into the door to open it with enough force to allow myself to turn around in enough time and slip through. The last time I did this, however, I very nearly knocked someone, the other side of the door, over. Her (chavy looking, middle aged) daughter was NOT pleased, and gave me evils as I passed her and until the doors eventually closed with her on the other side.
I might think twice before giving this manouver such gusto next time.

A couple people have pointed out to me that I sound like an old lady when recounting 'how my day has been', or 'how I've been coping'. This is understandable, as I moan about not being able to go out in bad weather, and give them an update on my (newly acquired skill of) knitting. 

The scary thing, however, is my 'cripple bed'.
Anything I need, want or use on a daily basis is within reach of my clammy little bed; diary, books, water, radio, tissues, NOTEBOOK and PEN. I feel like a well settled hospital patient; the kind I'm always a little suspicious of when I care for them. I never understood how they could be SO lazy. Could they really not have the radio on the otherside of the room and just STAND UP to turn it on. With the bathroom NEXT door, why don't they just leave the loo roll there, and get it when needed, rather than having it CONSTANTLY at hand?!
I have become a suspiciously settled hospital patient in MY OWN home! Sad times.

Along side my cripple bed, I also have a puzzle book, that my beautifully well meaning sister bought for me during my brief hospital stay, post surgery. However I have hardly looked at is as it has become a major source of depression.
I usually enjoy a good puzzle session, but I now realise, this was when I was working with the elderly or the very young. (i.e. the demented, or undeveloped brain)
The puzzles in this book are aimed at people with an average brain capacity. After a half hour of initial struggling with every other page I had to put it down, and am loath if I will pick it up again without my sister for mental and emotional support!

My current diet is mostly 'convenient', 'quick' and 'easy'. I find it hard to stand on one leg for more than about 10 mins, so this is an essential. As this food is not fresh (as I can't get to the shops) it is pretty much CARB CITY. My normal diet is pretty high in protein (lentils, beans and fish), veg and occasionally rice. SO it was hard for me to adjust to eating pasta/ bread/ CARBS for every single meal!
Well, to be honest, at first I welcomed the salty and cheesy 'ready in 5 mins' pasta meals and the packaged couscous with the all the flavours already added (that me and my family bulk bought)!! I could add the water and let my house mates keep an eye on it as they cooked their own meals as I sat close by.
Now, I can't bare it! I think I would have been fine, if well wishing friends hadn't started bringing me salad and hummous and fresh CARROTS to dip! Now, I have to stop myself from looking at ALL the ingredients on the back of these packets that I don't UNDERSTAND!! Since when was it acceptable to EAT NUMBERS?! 


I do have MORE stories to come, and FUNNIER ones too, but I think that's quite enough of my ennui being expressed for one day!!

Thanks for reading! And if you have any questions into the way I have adapted my awkward daily routine, chuck them my way.

Love
C xxx

I wish able bodied housemates would leave enough toilet roll

I should probably explain:

I'm not a genuine "cripple" as such. Although, completely politically incorrect, I have no use of my left ankle due to surgery (perinatal tendon sub-luxation) following a fall down a double kerb (!?) tipsy (DRUNK......) TWO years ago. This has therefore led to me being on crutches for at least 6 weeks. JOY!

I kind of want to start with "So here's what we've missed so far..."

SO the day before surgery, I fell over in the shower, pulling the curtain down and landing straight on my arse. My fear of being discovered NAKED  in the shower becoming closer to reality. I dreaded to think what would become of me with just one good leg.

One thing that was immediately established was that people (due to my stubborn independence and non reliance) struggle with me not being able to complete simple everyday tasks. No matter how strong willed the I may be - I can ALWAYS do with a little help from my friends - even if its just a piece of choc or something! DON'T BE SO AFRAID!

I often call the following happen stances my 'Miranda Moments' (After Miranda Hart, my doppleganger in height and ridiculousness)
After my surgery, and finally braving the outdoors (Stratford slash east London) these episodes arose:

• Not being able to get to the bus stop without panting like I'm going to die of a heart attack and sweating like a beast! Then having to wait patiently, too close for comfort behind the fellow 'bus wankers' before they realised that I'm waiting for them to move out of my way so I can sit on the bench. 

• Being told by my lovely doctor, that my multicolour SOCKS would entertain his daughter - who I hope is still a toddler, whilst trying to remember all the IMPORTANT questions I have to ask him and subsequently forgetting as I enquire about said daughter. Well done me!

• Spraying my face with a water fountain for the whole waiting room to see...whilst onlookers wait for the social signals to be able to laugh "with" me rather than "at" as I finally crack a smile after the initial REFRESHING shock.
• Breaking my toe (on my good foot) by slamming in to my crutch mid swing, with all my body weight behind it. And then dropping a litre bottle of water on it, whilst convinced I could carry it in a hand, mostly taken up with the handle of a crutch.
• Wearing out one of the best (and most comfortable) pairs trousers I have; on the knees and bum. I've banned myself from using them, as they are the only respectable pair I have.

• Falling flat on my tiled kitchen floor, using only my knee (of my good leg) as a 'prevention' to breaking my face. Meaning I can no longer use the mode of transport - crawling- for going from the top of the stairs to my bathroom and bedroom. I've regressed to using my bum.

• Being peer-pressured by STRATFORD YOUTHS after alighting the night bus, around 2am, into signing my cast after they assured me the wouldn't draw penises or tags: "nah miss, I'll write something nice". As I don't understand the concept of lying, I obliged, and ended up with; "UR sexi xx". Can't complain!! 

One thing that I have discovered after a month of being a cripple, is a new found assertiveness when getting onto a bus. For example, demanding that the driver not move until I've got a seat, after he closed the doors behind me, because "I've only got one leg!". Another asking in a very CLEAR LOUD VOICE to the people pointedly looking at their phones "can I please have a seat pleasethankyouverymuchly". I enjoy the new found power of the right to a seat. Finally!!

Massive appreciation for those in a more permanent situation than mine!!
Let's see what can happen in the next two weeks of non-weight bearing...

C xxx