I recently had back surgery and was told that I could not bend over, twist my torso, or reach up or down.
So basically, that meant just sit there.
To prepare for this surgery, I purchased a grabber. With this little appliance, I could squeeze a trigger, the jaws on the extension would open and close, and I could pick up anything on the floor or get anything off a shelf.
It was perfect.
But knowing my rotten luck, the grabber would not be the answer to my troubles.
Several days after surgery I decided I was thirsty and wanted a snack. My husband was not home at the time and I decided that I could get all of this by myself.
I had been laying on the couch and had moved all the roly poly couch pillows onto a bench that I used as an ottoman. It was easier for me to get up and down from the couch with various places on the couch that I could reach and hold on to in order to get up and down more easily. So I got up after a long struggle and made my way to the kitchen. I grabbed a paper cup, filled it with juice, and grabbed a packet of crackers and headed back toward the couch. I was rather proud of myself that I didn't have to lean or reach or do any of those prohibited things to get my snack.
But that's when 3 seconds of disaster hit.
When I got to the couch I gently sat down, but I was still holding my cup and some juice sloshed out onto a pillow. Luckily, I had brought napkins with me so I dropped them on the floor over the mess I had made and reached for my grabber to further clean the mess and pick up the damp napkins.
But when I reached for the grabber, which was on the bench ottoman, the grabber knocked pillows off the bench and onto the floor, where they knocked over the glass of juice and fell into the orange mess.
In trying to grab the pillows before they fell into the orange mess, I put my hand down holding the crackers and squashed them, causing the bag to split open and send crumbs all over the floor and onto the couch.
For several minutes I just sat there and stared.
What a disaster!
All I wanted was a simple glass of juice and some crackers. How had this turned into the disaster of mega proportions?
Sighing I got up from the couch and moved to a chair. This was just more than I could deal with at the time.
A few minutes later my husband came in and stopped and stared at me sitting in a chair.
"Are you okay?" he asked me.
"No, I made a mess."
He looked around and saw crumbs all over the couch and pillows all over the floor. He had yet to see the juice under those pillows.
But he sure found out when he started picking the pillows up off the floor.
"Why didn't you just wait for me? I would have gotten you anything you wanted!" he fussed.
Okay this was the time to start with a tears. I was familiar with times like these and knew exactly what to do.
"Wah!" I sobbed. "I just wanted to help out and do something by myself. I thought getting a simple snack and drink wouldn't be that bad."
I think my husband is getting wise to me and starting to figure out the "tear" plan A, because he still looked stern as he cleaned up the mega mess I had left behind in my wake.
But when everything was clean and I was back on my couch, he walked in with a drink and a snack and warned me that next time I needed to call to him for help.
I grabbed his hand and cuddled it to my face, and told him how wonderful he was and how much I needed him.
That was plan B.
But I really wasn't pulling his leg. Through all my surgeries, he has been wonderful and so helpful. But for those of us who have an independent streak, we always find it difficult to ask for help. I have discovered, though, that for some people, they love being able to help and want to be needed. Thankfully, that's my husband.
And with my multitude of disasters, he is frequently needed.
