My house is not ADA compliant


So here is the thing – I feel fine and normal as long as I’m not trying to… do anything.

Like now, I’m happily surfing the web, and have gone from how we are all doomed from climate change (really), to more hopeful bike blogs, where I find all these things I want to be doing with my bike (which I don’t own yet, because the day I was going to SF to buy my beloved future Oma from My Dutch Bike in SF was the day I found out that foot one was broken) to a blog about painting a picture of a dog a day (and thinking, hey, I could be doing a drawing a day.  If I did it everyday, I would probably at some point be able to draw well enough that someone else could tell what I was drawing)

But then suddenly, I think, hey, I have to go to the bathroom.  And then my lack of mobility becomes a huge thing.  1) crawl to edge of bed  2) get onto walker, which I shouldn’t be using, but the wheelchair won’t fit in either the bedroom or the bathroom 3) sit on the walker bench and scoot along to the bathroom door 4) walk four steps because even the walker won’t fit in the bathroom (really, no one in 1952 ever broke their feet? what is up with that?)  5)do the quick mental calculation of where to put my feet so when I fall back onto the toilet seat I actually land on it and not on my ass on the ground (TMI?)

And at that point I remember how very not fine it is to have broken feet.


About woodenmonkey

Just your average solar powered, hybrid driving, organic eating, happily married, pro-choice, feminist Christian artist and writer from San Francisco.

Posted on August 19, 2011, in Retro post (which is another way of saying I forgot to post it when I wrote it). Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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