guts·y (gts)
adj. guts·i·er, guts·i·est Slang
1. Marked by courage or daring; plucky.
2. Robust and uninhibited; lusty: "the gutsy . . . intensity of her musical involvement" Judith Crist.

Thursday, July 2, 2009

While Steering with One Foot*

Maneuvering the wheel chair around my apartment feels a lot like maneuvering a kayak. I think I got pretty good at the wheel chair back in 2002 when I first used one at home, for about eight weeks following the accident. I borrowed that one from my Hebrew student Vicky Lyon, who keeps it on hand for when her mother-in-law needs it. This time around I rented a wheel chair, and now I'm even better at using it, perhaps because of kayaking a lot during summers 2007 and 2008, plus a little bit of paddling earlier this season. I'm not popping wheelies or anything, but I do feel pretty confident.

And here's something I can do that has nothing to do with kayaking: I can steer this thing around using just my right foot. Not only steer, but actually propel myself. As long as the foot is wearing a Croc. I can go forward and backward, turn right or left, speed up or slow down, even do tricky things like move through the pantry or spin around in the tiny hallway to achieve best angle for entering bedroom or den. All with just one foot! And of course I mean without smashing into walls, injured left leg first.

Being able to do so much with my right foot frees up my hands for carrying stuff, including open containers of liquids, which can't be carried in the bag I hung off the back of the chair. This means I can water some of the plants, even the tricky, sensitive ones. It also means I can do more dangerous things, like transport a mug of hot tea or a bowl of hot soup. I carefully hold them above the floor instead of above myself as I head for a table or counter top; just in case I spill, I don't want to end up like John Hockenberry with his lasagna.

Best is using left hand on chair wheel while also using right foot in Croc on floor. This achieves even more power and precision, but leaves only one hand free. So it's good for the tea but not so good for the soup.

The biggest challenge to one-foot steering and propulsion is the hill I discovered in my dining room floor. It's so steep that I can't quite get up it with the one foot unless I build up some speed first. (This is when I start comparing wheel chairing to biking, which I haven't been able to do in years.) This head of steam is possible if I'm returning from a trip to the living room to water the plants. However, usually I'm entering the dining room in the chair on a trip back from the bedroom or kitchen, which forces me to approach the hill slowly. Lately I've been viewing the Dining-Room Hill as an opportunity to build myself up more. At least my right foot must be getting stronger.

Sometimes the right foot happens to be bare by the time I arrive in the wheel chair. This is usually because I started out from the bedroom on crutches toward the bathroom, a trip that has turned out to be safer in bare foot. I often forget to crutch back to the bedroom to fetch the Croc. This has got to change somehow, because it turns out that right-foot steerage without wearing a Croc is very dangerous. I really don't want to run the wheel chair over my bare right foot again! So when I find myself in the chair with no Croc on my foot, I squeeze the right foot up onto the chair along with the rest of me. Then I'm kind of perched up there, with injured left leg sticking out in front on the pillows as usual, bare right foot out of harm's way, zero feet on the floor. In this position I need two hands to work the chair.

*Bonus question for my Hebrew students: To what does the title of this blog posting make subtle reference?

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