Stone Day

It’s not quite 12 noon, and I’m not hopeful that my day will improve. Ever since my significant other chirped a “Have a good day” at 5 a.m. before going off to work, the day, so hopeful at that early hour, proceeded to go down hill. You know the song, “Some days are diamonds…”

My left leg started to spasm at  5:05.

Then, I dropped the toothpaste tube under my open sink mount, and played tag with it until I finally caught it using my gripper tongs. There’s only so much you can do when in a wheelchair seat.

While dressing, I fumbled with an earring, and it slid down my seat into a black hole that are wheelchair sides. I have lots of earrings missing their mates for one reason or another. I don’t know why I keep them. I guess if I ever decide to become a pirate I’ll be all set.  Arghhh. In this latest case, I actually did manage to dig around and find it.

Happily, my first meal of the day, a bowl of Cheerios, stayed off the floor (not like a couple of weeks ago) so I was happy for that.

After breakfast, I retrieved my e-reader from its charging station. The thing, in its protective book-like case, flipped in my hand and landed on the floor. Once again my trusty gripper tongs was called into action. Have you ever noticed how slippery an e-reader can be if you’re not picking it up with your hand? The only way I could get it was to fool with it until the thin-sided jacket was open and I could carefully pull it up to my lap.

After reading for about a half-hour, the reader froze on me. I shut if off to wait until it hopefully returns to normal.

I decided to creatively use my time while I’m waiting and write this week’s blog post. Settling in to be charming and witty, I accidentally knocked over the paper shredder bin with that spasm-ing leg. There are shredded pieces of paper all over my feet.

Sigh. I look at the clock. There is still half a day to hope my day will turn into diamonds.


2 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. olivia cather
    Apr 21, 2015 @ 16:06:21

    I do not have MS, but I share your same problems other than a bothersome leg. I am dropping everything on the floor. I get so frustrated that sometimes I count how many times I have to bend down and pick things up. One day I counted ten – probably before noon. .


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