Things you learn during an extended stay on crutches:
• That we as a nation have made incredible strides. We are innovators and overachievers capable of dreaming big and overcoming all manner of great hurdles. We’ve landed men on the moon and cured major ailments. We feed the world and, as far as I know, invented duct tape. Yet, we have never come up with anything better than the lowly, awful, excruciating device known as crutches. Why not? Millions of Americans a year get injuries and hobble around on these horrid things. Is this the best we can do? What about levitation or a third leg that you can strap on to your hip? How about crutches that walk for you, carrying you effortlessly to your destination?
Or at least add some frills to the wretched beasts, like drink holders or satellite radio. Nothing is more frustrating than digging a nice, cold frothy beverage out of the refrigerator, only to realize you don’t have enough hands to make it back to the sofa. One day I put a beer in the pocket of my shorts, and it nearly exploded it was shaken up so much.
• That co-workers can have an awful lot of fun at your expense. It’s so easy. All they have to do is put your crutches a little bit out of reach as they leave your office, or even more diabolical, change the height of them so you end up hunched completely over. A real cruel co-worker will just change the height slightly of one crutch so you end up walking around lopsided. It’ll take you days to realize what’s wrong, but will be a relief to realize that the world is not tilting at strange angles.
• That it is possible to rub your armpits off. And when I say rub off, I mean completely erase them from your body. You walk around on crutches long enough and you will totally pulverize your pits. And I have to tell you, armpit callous removal is neither fun, nor cheap.
• That there are still good people in the world. Crutches will teach you that. Most people are thoughtful, polite, caring and courteous. Perfect strangers will go out of their way to hold open a door, make sure you get on an elevator just fine, and help you in just about every way you can imagine. That’s refreshing.
• That if your daughter leaves a flat, smooth toy laying out on the floor and you put your crutch down on it, it will be the equivalent of a cartoon character stepping on a banana peel. It will be as if you are on ice skates. Your life will flash in front of you, you will make noises like a drunk monkey, and you’ll end up doing some kind of flailing split that would land most gymnasts in line for an Olympic gold medal. (I should also add that while you might grumble about it, you won’t have the sense to pick it up, ensuring that it will happen again 15 minutes later.)
• That if there is a hole anywhere within the vicinity, you will have the good fortune to put a crutch down into it causing a near-catastrophic occurrence, not to mention making you look like the biggest buffoon this side of the Mason-Dixon.
• That distances which used to be short, easy walks now are like epic, cross country adventures that leave you exhausted, dehydrated, disoriented, not to mention wondering how in the heck you are going to get back.
• That crutches in the morning get kind of cold, and if you tuck them under your armpits without putting a shirt on, it will be like getting a shock from a defibrillator. Good thing you have those armpit callouses under there, or you might really be in trouble.