Learning by the Seat of my Leg

    I am half way through six weeks of being non-weight bearing following ankle surgery. I thought I would be using crutches, having underestimated the changes between the 50 plus body I had for my knee replacements and the 70 minus body I have now. My shoulders, even the new one, are not up to crutch duty, my left leg can sock, but not hop, and I am a little off balance (no surprise there). These deficiencies must show, because my podiatrist strongly recommended I use a knee scooter. I always thought those were for the younger crowd. I have not ridden a scooter since  . . . I have never ridden a scooter. 

    At first it was awkward, like a junior high dance. Where am I supposed to hold you? When is it okay to let go? How fast are we supposed to move? The latter was written right on the handlebars:  Recommended speed: Normal walking 3.6 km/h (2.24 mph). I can actually reach that on the straightaways, even inside my house. It is the first time I have been able to go normal walking speed in years. Imagine how fast I could go if we didn't have carpet. Now I love my knee scooter. The brand is called BlessReach, so I call my scooter Blessie Blue. Here are some of the things I have learned:

 

1. I know the best way to transfer to/from the bed, toilet, shower, car, and most of the furniture. Still working on refining transfers to motorized carts at stores.
2. I am learning to organize tasks by line of reach, especially in the bathroom. I brush my teeth, wash my face and put on face cream on the way to the toilet. I put on my nightgown, grab meds, and drop my dirty clothes in the hamper on the way to bed. Scooters do not turn on a dime, more like a manhole cover, so I try to anticipate everything I might need from any area of the house before I leave it. Up until now, forgetfulness was the best exercise I got.
3. I can pull the cords on the ceiling light and fan with my reacher, which I have named Jack.
4. Even giving him a list that includes brand, size, price, aisle, and sometimes pictures, grocery stores are mostly unexplored territory for Reed. Unless I go with him, I need to lower my expectations that he will recognize good produce or bring home the sale items.
5. Reed has been hiding his talents from me. Although church friends have brought in several dinners for us, Reed has fixed bacon and eggs, even French toast (his idea!) for breakfast. He also knows how to do laundry (with some coaching on sorting and cycles). And, like those men I see in commercials, he knows how to clean a house.
6. That leads me to the most important thing I have learned while semi-recumbent--I DO NOT GET TO HAVE MY HOUSE MY WAY! 

    Reed does not think like me, load the dishwasher like me, clean like me, fold clothes even to my extremely low standards, etc. But he does help me shower, finds and fetches dozens of things I need, is my chauffeur, built a scooter ramp on our front steps, and has a great cup of coffee waiting for me at breakfast. The price of having things my way is doing them myself and, although I am getting my energy back, and Blessie and I are discovering how to do more things together, I have also learned that when you don't have a leg to stand on, you need to sit some things out.