Grateful for spoons

A few days ago, I came across a fantastic article written by a woman with Lupus. In it, she describes how she explained to a friend what it is like to live with a chronic issue. I loved the article, passed it along to several friends who also live with chronic stuff, and started thinking about all the little choices I make each day. I then recalled a meeting a few years ago.

I was going through an appeal process with a big government agency regarding my disability status. I had a lawyer – which was neither my idea nor my money – and I recall her wide eyes of bewilderment when I answered her question about how my back pain affects my daily life. It took me a few moments to get going since I’m rather used to my version of normal and actively try not to think about how abnormal it might be compared to others'. But once I stepped back and looked at all the little ways I’ve made adjustments, it got easier to provide her examples. My list ended up being a key part of the appeal hearing. I suppose unless you have a cranky back, most of this stuff wouldn’t occur to you so it was pretty obvious I wasn’t making things up to bilk the government.

So with spoons in mind (the article was called The Spoon Theory), here is a peek into the world of cranky backness.

• I can vacuum but only because we have central vac so there’s no canister to drag around, and only tile and hardwood. Carpet and the beater brush have too much friction and resistance. Luckily for me, Rob is a highly accomplished carpet vacuumer.

• Most of my shoes are slip-ons since bending over to tie laces is painful, even while sitting. Rob often offers to tie sneaker laces for me but it feels incredibly awkward to stand there with my husband at my feet looking like he’s a daddy tying his 5-year-old’s shoes. I try to avoid it.

• Much to my intense preference otherwise, I have to wear a two-piece bathing suit. Trying to shimmy out of a wet one piece is about a thousand times worse than trying to shimmy into pantyhose. Which brings us to...

• I avoid pantyhose with an intensity beyond my early feminist beliefs that they are oppressive bindings designed by “the man” to “keep us down.” (Yeah, I was a piece of work.) Unless I get them several sizes too big -- rendering them loosey-goosey opaque tights -- the bending and tugging and shimmying to get the darn things on leads to snarls that totally destroys the look of the outfit. For the extraordinarily special occasion when I do wear pantyhose, I limit my liquid intake. Which sort of sucks since those occasions typically include wine. And garter belts with hose instead? Not an option. Trying to attach the back snaps results in back-wrenching movements that would make Chubby Checker envious.

• I avoid driving on the freeway during commute times since turning to check my mirror hurts. I do my best to stick to surface streets and avoid lane changes. And I gave up driving my beloved manual transmission years ago. Pressing the clutch is not very back-happy.

• When traveling on an airplane, I am not a fan of non-stops for long flights. It is much better for me to be able to get off the plane and walk around and lie on the floor for a bit. It results in a longer travel day but I’m in better shape when we finally arrive.

• When entering a restaurant or someone’s house or any other situation with a variety of seating options, I do a fast assessment of the chairs available and do my best to snag the best one for my back without making it obvious that I’m doing so. I prefer hard over soft, shallow over deep, high over low, table over booth. If we end up in a booth, I prefer to sit on the end so I don’t have to scoot across the bench. Oh, and I learned years ago at a friend’s bachelorette party that I shall never ever ride in a limousine again unless I can sit up front with the driver. Those things are all about scooty benches!

• Because of the squishy, no-lumbar chairs at movie theaters, about 98% of my movie watching is done at home from my bed and heating pad. God bless Netflix! The 2% that is enjoyed in a theater is almost entirely children’s movies since they are shorter. Last movie I saw in the theater: “Up.”

• In order to enjoy a long, lingering, conversational dinner, wine must be involved. Hardly a hardship and one rule for allowing extended sitting that I don’t mind a bit.

• Since it’s a bad idea to mix alcohol and pain meds, I do my best to plan my day and my meds with dinner plans in mind. Sometimes this is a bit of a challenge since I’m not much of a meal planner.

• Our current kitchen blessedly came with a double wall oven. Bending over to use a regular oven is pretty much out of the question, especially when heavy pans are involved. In our old house with a standard range, meals were entirely stove top, microwave, delivery, or restaurant.

• We have a surprisingly rare refrigerator chosen specifically with my back in mind. It is a side-by-side fridge and freezer but it does not have an icemaker/water dispenser. The area in the freezer where that contraption is housed is prime real estate for me: chest level, in the door, no bending or reaching. I’m not entirely sure what’s in the bottom sections of our fridge and freezer since I don’t visit them very often.

• When we bought a new washer and dryer about 10 years ago, we bought the front loaders on pedestals so that I could contribute to the household chores. The front loading means I don’t have to bend over into the washer to retrieve heavy, wet clothes. And the pedestals put both machines at a back-friendly height for easy stuffing and unstuffing.

• Our bathroom vanity was originally designed at a height to allow a woman to sit at the counter and do her hair and make-up. I’m a stander. While on a vacation several years ago, I noticed my back didn’t hurt as much as it did at home when I was doing all that sink stuff that women do. I realized that the hotel’s vanity was much higher. About a year later we undertook a remodeling project that resulted in our bathroom vanity being the same height as the counters in our kitchen. Even Rob noticed his back feels better with the new height.

• Heated seats in the car are no longer a luxury for me. And both of our cars were chosen very carefully for their seat height, smooth ride, and seat back adjustment. I can still remember the back spasms from days spent at car shows narrowing down our choices but the result was two very back-happy cars.

• I am not a big fan of shopping for clothes in general but I especially dread shopping for pants since taking pairs off and on kills my back. I’m good for about ten pairs. Then it’s time for a Mrs. Fields cookie and a Vicodin.

• I cannot go to Costco alone. Unless I am picking up photos, there is little in that store that is safe for me retrieve and load into the car by myself.

• When grocery shopping alone, I only get what can fit in a hand basket and I avoid items on the lower shelves. Although pushing a light shopping cart is easy, bending into the cart to get stuff out isn’t. I’m grateful I have a hubby that is willing to tag along on the “big shops.”

• One of my kittens is already past my preferred 10 pound weight limit. I’m still in a bit of denial about it not being a good idea for me to pick him up. And yes, I realize that a 12 pound kitten is insane.

• When a new baby comes into my life, I have to get the holding in early. By 15 or 20 pounds, all I can do is look.

I suppose the list could go on but frankly, I’m tired of thinking about all the ways my life is different than what I expected. But really, whose isn’t? We all adjust our lives in ways we don’t really like for reasons we never expected, chronic pain or not. It’s just life and we all get to experience it a little differently. Yay for spoons, in whatever quantity!