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blueshoefarm at gmail dot com.... and that would be how to reach me

Friday, August 19, 2011

Blame it on the left hand

Things I think are funny:
1. Today I tossed a cup of miso soup in my hair and down the back of my neck. Why? Because I was carrying it in my left hand. I was feeding the horses and carrying a cup of miso... and had to go under the clothes line. (Always the multi-tasker) The flake of hay was in my right hand, so I used my left which had the cup in it to lift the line. The part that my sneaky strokebrain contributed was that between me picking up the cup, and me lifting the clothesline I became unaware that I had a cup in my hand. I believe this little trick of stroke-hood in medical terms is called neglect. I call it crazy.
2. Another example. As I have done for years, and I am pretty sure everyone else does, I use both hands when doing things. The difference is my left hand is only reliable until it forgets its supposed to be doing something. I put a glass in my left hand and filled it with water. As I put the water container down, my left hand let the glass drop, breaking it unceremoniously on my stove and floor. When this happens it is always a shock, like, how on earth did that happen??
3. Wilder and I were in the grocery, and he got a piece of pizza. He went off to wash his hands in the restroom as I held his pizza for him. Next thing I knew it went splat on the floor facedown. Left hand. He came back right as I was following the "two second rule" and asked incredulously if I just dropped his pizza. As I was dobbing the top with a napkin I said look at how clean I am getting this!

I decided I am going to try to keep an eye on that hand. Like literally watch it when I give it a task to see if that will keep my brain in the loop. The good thing is that the frustration of body parts not doing what they are supposed to is also turned off... so it doesn't bother me. (Other than hot miso in my hair and cleaning up broken things... ) It is not like I am trying to hold the cup and fail, it is that after a few seconds every memory of that hand is gone. If strokes weren't so damn terrifying this might be fun.

Tuesday, August 16, 2011

Always the house

Three days after my stroke my handyman Javier came over. (With his cousin, Javier). I heard the kids dad talking in low tones to him, probably about me being sick, and sending him home to Seattle....when I moved out of the prone position and told him to come on in! I wasn't going to pass up work hours for a stroke!
That day they finished trimwork in the living room and bathroom, and wainscoting in the other bathroom. I am sure they did other stuff, but I forget.
That same weekend a predator broke into the chicken coop and killed two birds. It is always the nice friendly fat birds they get. I have not lost a buff orpington to natural causes yet.
In the chicken coop, amiable and gentle gets the short end of the stick.
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