So I dropped my shoe today…
Don’t think dropping a shoe makes for a decent blog entry? Think again…
After what seemed like an entire dreary season of rain and powerful storms (read: one week), the sun finally appeared in the sky today. Being the type who needs a ton of natural Vitamin D in my day, I chose to spend my lunch hour reclined on the deck, shirtless, with book in hand.
I hopped down onto the chaise (thanks, gravity), pulled my legs into the reclined position and reached down to remove my shoes and socks (yep, my feet are wicked white and need the sun, too). All was going as planned until one shoe decided to head off on a walkabout. It squirmed from my clutches, bounced over the rail and off the deck and settled into the grass below. Thanks, wandering shoe.
Most of the able-bodied world would simply reach down and grab it (or jump off the deck or climb down the three stairs or …). For me, the three foot vertical distance between me and my left shoe might as well have been the difference between the parking lot and the summit of a
No worries at that point…I shrugged it off, enjoyed the sun, finished the book and nearly dozed off in Vitamin D bliss.
When I realized it was time to get up and go back to working for The Man, I processed what getting the shoe back onto my foot would entail. And then it got interesting.
To unite me and my shoe for an exciting afternoon of “under desk sitting,” I had to successfully develop and execute a long and complicated process of related and successive events. I had to make and complete a plan. I needed more time. I had to expend unplanned Friday afternoon energy.
So I climbed back in the chair, lifted both my covered and barefoot feet onto the foot tray, repositioned myself properly, took off the brakes, rolled from one deck to another, moved around the house, coasted down a ramp onto the grass, turned left, made my way around the house into the backyard, passed by a couple of well-watered perennial gardens, trekked across the lawn, bent over and grabbed my shoe. Success. 4 minutes and 35 seconds from start to reunification.
I put on the shoe, turned 180 degrees and reversed the process.
Since it was Friday afternoon, I didn’t miss much when I finally arrived back at my desk fifteen minutes late.
When you are in a wheelchair, you have to stay flexible, you have to expect the unexpected, you have to roll with the punches and absorb the bounces and falls. And you have to appreciate the unplanned left shoe walkabouts. It’s just the necessary way of life. Inches become miles and keeping it together means rolling outside the box.
I had a great afternoon when all was said and done. I justified a few extra minutes in the sun and squeezed in a bit of off-road wheeling.
The yard looks awesome, too.
Thanks, wandering shoe!
Bye.
