Fishing Pole “Fred” & “Peter” Picker-upper
I know it’s super childish to be 40 and assign names to everything; it’s as if I’m still 7 in my upstairs toy room with the rust-colored carpeting and the energy surge only farm kids get when mom says we get 20 minutes to “go play” between chores. It’s hard to be taken seriously when you believe in puppet shows, carry stuffed animals in your backpack, and even stoop to naming a “body part,” though it’s technically polished metal and plastic. (Sorry, Nelly, you’re part of the family, but not everyone understands that just yet, so I’m trying to be a grown up for 2.5 seconds to acknowledge what I know seems super bananas to everyone else.)
And yet, newsflash from this “people pleaser,” though I think it’s probably pretty clear after the vulnerability of Part I: I care less about perception with each passing day. I care about healing, increased mobility and healthy headspace, and all of those things require the whimsy of childish creativity to play in between the cry-worth PT sessions, the frustration fits over the regular runners who unknowingly taunt me from the sidewalk every morning at 7am, and all the other adulting moments that soften when everything within my reach has a proper name.
One of the tools, courtesy of my occupational therapist in the hospital is “Fishing pole Fred,” whose bright blue hue is easy to spot among the complete disarray that is our house right now. I have foundation, dry shampoo, lip-gloss and deodorant stashed in multiple places on each level of our townhouse, with sports bras, shorts and footies following suit. I never know where I’m going to wake up in the morning from my late night relos, so I like knowing that I’ve got everything from a toothbrush to the right shade of blush within reach at any moment. Fred quickly became a part of the clutter in the D’Amico house, and one day when Nicholas was watching me lasso my foot with the circular end to move my leg without bending, he referenced it as a fishing pole. So now one of the daily questions when he gets home:
“What’d you catch today? Anything good?”
“Red Snapper, Unicorn Fish (I didn’t make that up–it was in the catalog when I sold for Gordon), Halibut. Fred knows I only eat the good stuff, so he’s a bit of a pretentious helper, but he’s all mine. And in the “end of the day fatigue” moments when I bust out my wheel chair, he’s a life saver to keep my leg up and my sneakers from catching on the floor. Practical, helpful, inexpensive, and doesn’t talk back.
I just got situated on the couch. 2 pillows behind my back, one under my foot, ice machine wrapped around my knee tightly, and it starts the frosty routine just in time for my internal temperature to freak out again. The shivers overtake, and I can feel my lips turning purple, like they would when I was a kid and insisted on swimming in any body of water, regardless of season. Peter-picker-upper to the rescue, as my new Sac United Hoodie is within Peter’s reach, without having to undo all the conscious comforts I just orchestrated. Whew. It’s the little things, like making a moment in time just a little bit easier.
The good stuff 
Julie, first of all I just love you. I loved this!! I got my friend here in the RV park one of those Peter Picker-Uppers. Listen to her story. I will preface with saying she has 10 cats in a fifth wheel camper. Yes, we all call her the crazy cat lady. She went in to have one of 2 knee replacements about a year and half ago. Did very well through the healing and PT and was allllllmost released from her Dr. Then she stepped on a cat tail which in turn he retaliated with a nice bite on her foot. Well normal people would think nothing of it. But that little bite carried a cat disease straight to her brand new artificial knee (seems to be where they navigate to). It wasn’t long til she had fever and severe infection. The Dr found it in the joint and had to remove her artificial knee, clean it out, and put in a spacer. They put her on IV antibiotics trying to fight off the infection. She came home with a brace, a walker, bags of IV’s hanging off her. She has her own port under her arm. And the 10 cats sitting all over her in the only chair she has been able to sleep in to this very day. Throw in Hurricane Sally, she was back in the hospital for several weeks when this happened, cats traumatized, and I told her from the beginning I would feed her, take her to Dr’s….anything but care for her cats. Luckily she had a better friend that did that for her. She is now on her second spacer, they have been in and out of her leg 4 times now cleaning out infection, doing skin grafts…. I honestly don’t know how she still has a leg. It looks like a road map. She has been scratched and bitten several times from those darn cats but she will not hear of anyone taking them out of there. My neighbors think I should accidentally leave the door open to save her leg. So she has been “clean” for about 3 weeks now and looking forward to her July 7th appt where they may schedule her knee replacement again. However, she just got bit again the other day so I’m praying….and her other knee was bad and since she has put a lot of weight on it to support herself, it is bone on bone now. But I have to say she has the best attitude and will do for others but talks about them behind their back at the same time. We’ve just accepted its just her way. She means no harm. So just know that someone on the other side of USA is in the boat with you. Maybe you will feel some camaraderie with Penni the cat lady. I have a feeling you would have kicked 10 cats to the curb by now though!!! I think about you and pray for this to be over for you sooner than later! Hugs and 💋
Becky!! I just love you, too, SO much! I appreciate you reading my rants. Haha. I read this a few times and alternated between laughing and crying for poor Penni, the cat lady! I mean, seriously?? I’ve been talking a blue streak about getting a kitten again, naming him Socrates, and doing paperwork so that he can be my emotional support kitty….but after this anecdote, I might have to think twice! I seriously cannot even believe that after everything she’s been through, she didn’t clean house entirely, boot the cats, and look out for her own health…bless her heart, I guess, right? I can’t imagine the pain of multiple spacers and the cleaning in between, and she still has a long road ahead if she can get the replacement again. You’re such a great friend to help her out so much, and run her to appointments! I seriously hope she gets good news on the 7th and that this latest bite doesn’t throw her back again. ayayayayai.
Hope you have a great holiday weekend and have something fun in store! 🙂
XOXOXO
Get a big black dog….they will be the best support you could get!