Toomey J Gazette (Vol. 11, No. 1, 1968 - Polio Place

WELL, THE NEED AROSE, 1
by Casey Jones
I'm the teacher whose pictures plastered page 37 of the
1966 issue of TjG. 1 have felt for a long time that handi-
capped people in general have not done what they could along
the lines of housework, child care, and such tedious chores
so I'd like to get in my two cents worth. Maybe the reason
they haven't is because it is so tedious, rather unglamorous,
and without much recognition. Quite often handicapped people
are seeking something more spectacular which will have great-
er compensatory value. Seeking recognition and a lift for
their shattered ego, they often overlook the obvious which is
right in front of their nose and tend to forget that little
things are important, too. Of course it often takes us a lot
longer, and requires a lot more effort from us, to perform
these little tasks than it does for the non-handicapped
around us so we tend to shrug our shoulders and let them do
it while we dream of more exciting ventures. However, if we
enjoy our work, it really shouldn't matter if it takes us
longer; just more enjoyment time.
I was guilty of the same sin of omission for 6 years as a
C5-6 quad. With dear old mother around to do the housework,
I never lifted a hand toward those chores. In fact, it never
really dawned on me that perhaps I could. I don't think that
I had even considered the possibility. Then, in 1949, wikh
mother gone, my wife away at college except on week-ends, and
housework pLling up, 1 found that I could do all kinds of
things that I had heretofore considered outside my realm of
activity. I guess it was partly a labor of love; the thought:
of pleasing my new bridk as she came home on week-ends in-
spired me to greater efforts.
Learning to wash dishes was accomplished by holding the
dishes between my two handa, and we soon bought unbreakable
melmac. I found that, with a hose, I could fill the laundry
tubs and washing machine and with a hooked stick I could put
the clothes in the machine, fish them out, put them through
the wringer, rinse them and even hang them on the line. Luck-
ily we had a huge laundry room with a cement floor with a
drain so I could spill and splash all I wanted to. I soon had
indoor lines strung up at my level and could hang clothes up
to dry inside. I threw the clothes pins away and just spread
the clothes out and draped them over the lines. I never tried
ironing them; with no feeling in my hands I was chicken about
getting singed.
With a tray on my lap, and spoons, forks, spatulas, knives,
and peelers with special handles, I soon found to my amaze-
ment that I could peel potatoes, open cans, mix bread (I soon
learned to make 25-loaf batches in two big dishpans and then
freeze them after they were baked; that way I only had to
bake bread about once a month.) cakes, fry hamburger and
steaks, etc. I got some great padded mits for taking hot
things out of the oven. Long tongs work beautifully to reach
things up in the cupboards. I use hooked sticks to pick