Accentuating the Positive

Things are more difficult these days. Adding a bum ankle that could easily become permanently deformed after months of treatment hasn’t helped ease things along, but I am still hobbling along. Where I had been walking along slowly with hands usually defensively waving in front of me, you can add a limpy gimpy foot dragging behind me to get the image of an incredibly thin and good looking Igor shuffling around dark dungeons. Just don’t expect any "Yes, Master" responses because I’m way too insolent for that.
I need to look at the things I can do rather than concentrate on what I can do instead of all the things I can’t.
I can still bowl. As often as not, I am maintaining my average. It was never an impressive degree of sportsmanship and great fun on the rare occasion when a good score is in the same game as better teammates’ weak games. My tagline "You can’t bowl better than a blind guy is always worth a cheap laugh. The response is often "How many fingers am I holding up?" and the answer is always "One."
I changed locks at an apartment just the other day. This was rekeying on one door and a complete change on another, done all by myself by feel and experience.
Computer use is assisted with the use of a 32-inch TV as a monitor and a magnifying mouse. That too has gotten harder with time, but I am still plugging along for now, slowly.
I made program booklets for the bowling league bylaws, not just stapled sheets of a standard document but four page printed folded books in large type. I know they came out good because I was accused of having help.
I can still cook. Other than a dish towel falling into th oven unseen, I’ve had no mishaps any worse than things that happened due to sheer idiotic inattention. I washed my hand immediately after putting the turkey in the oven, so found the towel while it was still smoldering and before it had burst into flames.
I can still use power tools, with great caution. I never could cut a straight line, so the output isn’t radically changed. I stay cautious in keeping hands and other vital body parts away from the central blur that makes all the noise.
Power garden tools are no less difficult. I was swinging a chain saw in some clean up after Irene. I bought battery operated Hedge trimmers and a weed whacker. There’s two particular dangers I found the need to circumvent. The first trick is not moving my feet while the tool is in use. My reduced visual field makes that particularly dangerous as I am a living tripping hazard. The second was cutting through the cords of my old electric models. Don’t be shocked that I never did so.
Some of these things may seem haphazard, but in times when I find I can do less and less with more and more difficulty, they are accomplishments.