Of Disability

5 September 2021

[Above photo: The scene of the assault. The camera flattens the sea; it was pretty wicked.]

My birthday passed as a zephyr, just as I would have wished. A scattering of well-wishes from friends In many places, a couple of lovely presents from Ari, and a day ashore. Such indulgence! I went to Rooster Bros. in Ellsworth and bought a milk frother; put a little warm milk in the bottom, pump the plunger 20x, and, voila, really frothy milk. Such a treat in the morning on top of coffee. I also had supper—salmon with green sauce, salad from my garden (except the avocado), and fettucine al pesto (out of a jar, sadly, as I don’t have a blender here)—for Michael and Chris. I didn’t let them know the occasion and that was good since I didn’t want a fuss. Last year was over the top when Kelly, Irene, and Jose took me for the weekend to the Governor’s Mansion, an 1800’s Karen chieftain’s palace in Yangon turned into a lovely resort with ponds, a gorgeous swimming pool, and a croquet pitch. This year my celebration was just right.

The next day we enjoyed the tail end of Hurricane Ida, with a lot of rain and wind gusts to 32mph straight into the harbor. I put on my foul weather gear, including knee-high rubber boots that are better suited to clumsily mucking out a barn than dancing around the deck of a pitching float.  I was getting into one of the rowboats to bail it, water 4” deep sluicing over the float and the rowboat slamming up and down wildly when I slipped and ended up headfirst in the bottom of the boat. By that time I had enough adrenaline so I was able to bail the two boats and only later felt an incredible pain in my right thumb. Not knowing if it was a fracture or sprain, I returned to the cabin and iced it for an hour, then immobilized it with an Ace wrap and elevated it 

For two days it was as though I’d slipped back down the evolutionary ladder since I had only one opposable thumb.  I began to realize, as I tried to button my jeans or open a jar, how creative disabled people are routinely, developing work-arounds all the time.  Initially I had an overwhelming sense of doom and gloom. I have so many things for which I need to be physically strong in the next three weeks, especially closing up the cabin for the year, cutting and splitting firewood for next year, sorting through more of my stored stuff, and moving into a new place in Portland. It was such a nuisance to have to remove the Ace wrap each time before doing dishes, so I only did them once per day. Gradually it has become less painful and a large bruise has appeared toward the tip of my thumb, clearly blood from the trauma finding its way down tendon sheaths and tissue planes. I’m pretty sure it is a sprain, my mood is recovering, and I realize how much I can do without the use of that thumb.

Ari and I took a hike yesterday. I haven’t seen much of her this summer; she has a busy life, after all. In addition to working, she has a big place she maintains, a coterie of good friends, and a new relationship. Anyway, when I suggested a hike she was game and we went up Blue Hill on a sparkling Saturday. We got to the top and as we descended met a group of people climbing up the other side. We reassured them the summit wasn’t far. We should have asked them directions. We got totally lost, wandering on trails for hours, finally coming out on the Ellsworth Road, from which we could see Blue Hill in the distance. We walked for another 45’ along roads, laughing at ourselves. Ari then had to dash off to get to work by 4:30PM. I was reminded that the occasions I remember are often those that don’t follow my plan.  One of life’s great pleasures for me is to wander about a foreign city and get lost. I once found a perfect pension in Paris while rambling about and never was able to locate it subsequently, as if it had been a fantasy only.

The nip of Autumn is in the night air, crisp as a cold apple. I realize I haven’t seen a New England color change in decades. When in college I’d drive, usually with a friend, into New Hampshire and hike near Mt. Washington in October. Getting a bit of elevation and then finding a rocky promontory revealed the most glorious of views. It was a sea of orange, red, and yellow. Once my friend Tom and I stayed at the Harvard Ski Club Cabin; neither of us was a member but my brother was and no one was there to police us. We fired up the sauna and went between it and the creek. I assumed you wanted to finish with the creek so as to wash away the sweat. Maybe that’s wrong. I ended up with pneumonia and was hospitalized for a few days.  I also would like to pick some apples this Fall. Local pleasures.

I had supper in Stonington last night with Linda and Polly, who is visiting her. Polly is a nurse-practitioner from Madison who was with us for two years in Malawi. She is a lovely person and we three had a good time catching up. You certainly can form bonds in trying circumstances that are different than those of ordinary life; the circumstances don’t need to be overseas, just difficult.  It helps to have a generally shared purpose.  Stonington looks so pretty and appealing but it will be as quiet as a tomb in a month or two, I suspect, for the next eight.

I finally wearied of the male-animal smell of my bedroom . If both windows are open it is fine. I put shoes in closets, etc. but nothing helped. So I took ashore the entire row of hanging (work) clothes, fleeces, etc., appearing dirty or not, and washed them. Amazing, it no longer smells like a den. A step back up the evolutionary ladder, so there!