The Usual

Mile Marker 28:

Friday is Trash Day in my neighborhood.  This morning when I came outside, my car was parked in by a trash truck.  When I finally got around it, I was caught behind another truck on the next block.  In total, THREE garbage trucks made me late for my PT session!  Don’t think I miss the irony here.

Taking out the trash was never my favorite chore.  Invariably, I’d arrive home late from work on a rainy Thursday night, and I’d miserably drag the sopping trashbags from my backyard down the alley to the sidewalk. 

But Trash Day has taken on a new meaning, now.  What was once usual has become UNUSUAL.

Miles 26 and 27 slipped by unnoticed this week.  They were swallowed up by the minutiae of daily life.  The Usual.

Believe it or not, being an amputee can be downright mundane sometimes.  It doesn’t exempt you from washing dishes or paying bills.  Carpets get dust-bunnies and clothes get dirty.  There may be a few less socks to wash, but still....

And I notice that time has marched on even though I’ve been out of commission.  Amazingly, my car inspection is still due by the end of July.   But wait!   My little green car collected dust in my parents’ driveway for 6 months!   Doesn’t that give me a credit till at least December?  The answer is Nope.

Returning home slapped me with some tough realizations:  Untended gardens still grow  -- mostly weeds!   Sewer pipes still crack.  Basements still get wet.  And food still expires.  If not for some terrific fridge cleaning fairies back in November, my kitchen would have made Philadelphia the Moldiest City in the U.S.  (Better than Fattest City?  Maybe not.)

Returning to The Usual has been both comforting and frustrating.  Last month, my PT Julie came to my house to help me figure out some new systems.  And I learned that being an amputee is not a Get-Out-Of-Chores-Free Card.

I’ve done away with my laundry basket;  it’s unsafe on the stairs.  Instead, I now use a canvas bag over my shoulder, even if the loads are smaller and more frequent.  I practiced carrying groceries, one bag at a time, from the car into the house.  Not too bad, as long as I have a good parking spot. 

I’ve heard that slow and steady wins the race, but with tasks that used to be quick and easy, I'm now methodical, but clumsy.  Well-intentioned, yet inefficient.

I’m not into sitting around and watching others do for me, either.  But it turns out that I kinda like having a HELPER.  I can’t take credit for this idea.  Friends and family have been gently pushing for it.  Sesame Street has promoted it for ages.  

My good friend Sandi even went so far as to set up a schedule, and then proved to me that it works.  In 15 minutes, she helped me take out the trash, vacuum the living room rug, AND fold a set of bedsheets – all tasks that, in my mind, were insurmountable.  It was eye-opening, really!

It turns out there's some truth to all that cooperation hype we learn as kids.  My parents, my brothers, and my friends -- Bosco, Mary, and Sue this week -- have all chipped in to make things a little bit easier.  And many more friends have volunteered to do the same.    

People are coming together to give me perhaps the greatest gift of all:  their time.

Trash Day still haunts me on Fridays, but with a little help here and there, it’s not quite so daunting.  It keeps The Usual in its place – USUAL.

To prove it, Miles 26 and 27 are now memories, with nothing to show for them except clean laundry, healthy flowers, and an empty trash can.  Take that, Trash Day!