The Morning After: June 28, 2023
[To read this memoir in order, go to the category Left-Handed Wheelhouse here on the blog.]
Challenge #1: How was I going to get my contact lens in my eye? This had preoccupied me some the night before as the shot wore off. I only have one lens, for my right eye. I’m blind in my left but still take an important drop for that eye twice daily, just to keep it from shriveling up and blowing away. The drop was no problem for a leftie. But my lens, which takes me from 20/200 to 20/25, has been a two-handed affair since I was 13. At the mirror I examined the equipment and strategized. I’d usually held the lens in my right hand, bathed it with first the cleaner, then the wetting solution held in my left hand, and then pop! The lens goes in my eye. Now my right hand was totally useless. Moving it the eensiest bit send a knee-bending wave of pain through my body.
What else did I have to work with here. I looked in the mirror and saw my mouth. Why not? I love living alone, I thought, no one to see me do things like this!
Holding the lens between my left thumb and forefinger, I leaned over and grabbed bottle # 1 with my remaining fingers and palm. I plopped the bottom of the bottle in my mouth, swung my neck down, and squeezed my teeth. What would Leo my Friendly Dentist think about this, I wondered fleetingly. Repeat process with second bottle. Awkwardly place lens in somewhere in my eye and nudge it over pupil. Voila! Vision restored.
Challenge #2: Next I needed to put clothes on. Sweatpant shorts. About eight years ago I replaced both my hips (or Dr. Dodd in Truckee, CA did) and it left me with a bit of nerve damage. I can’t lift up my legs to put pants on like normal people. I’ve tried, believe me! I used my hands and arms to lift one leg at a time into the vertical shaft of the pant. This was out of the question due to the wavy painy thing.
I put the shorts on the floor. Sitting on my ottoman, I nudged my left foot closer to the shaft, little by little, until I could pull it up with my left hand. Repeat with right. Carefully, so carefully, pull up pants with left hand while not moving right arm. Success! Sighted and panted, I decided to wear my night shirt that day. And I silently signed off bras for the duration.
Out of the sanctuary of my room, I gingerly greeted Bonnie and Hayduke, who had worried and slept by my door all night. (They aren’t allowed in my room. I could too easily trip on them in a sightless state.) They wanted to use their tried-and-true, lick-to-heal approach. More wavy pain. I cried out and so did they. We made our way to the kitchen.
Challenge #3: How was I going to make my tea? I thought with panic. My friend Scott, who now lives in Arkansas, turned me on to this Indian bulk tea I indulged in most mornings. I have these neat tea infusers that screw together. Somehow I funneled some Earl Gray into the infuser and screwed it with my left hand. Honey and almond milk were easy. Yes! Preheated the cup, made the tea. Ahhh…perfection and comfort.
I wouldn’t realize until the afternoon that I had no practical way of removing the used leaves from the infuser, and I would order crappy Earl Gray tea bags from Kroger for the duration. For now, I had my tea and made it to my chair, grabbing the remote. It was 7 a.m. and I was exhausted. Time for some You Tube wisdom.
