4.26.2010

The (injured) cook and her (disproportionate) kitchen




This week I am learning to live life from a different angle.  My sad, damaged plantar fascias are having trouble healing,  so I have been told by the doctor to help the process by using them as minimally as possible.


This means I now must try to live my life from the seated position.  Working as a secretary makes the workday fairly stationary - I am taking advantage of the term "desk job."  Sleeping happens to also be a predominately sedentary activity, save those prone to sleep-walking, which, fortunately I am not. Unfortunately, the third thing I give my life to (aside from working and sleeping), does not easily oblige itself to restful positions  -- meal preparation.


In the kitchen countertops are built for someone to use while standing, making  them about 1.5 feet too high.  This means that as I try to do the dirty dishes from a seated position, I am knocking other items  into the sink (so far, nothing has been broken).  When I try to cut baked chicken off the bone my arms become achy and my progress is slow.  Maybe I could kneel, but there is only so much pressure that knee joints will take before they too join the force of dysfunctional body parts.


So I sit in my chair in the kitchen and manuever my body every which way to reach what I need.  At least in a small kitchen I can reach the stove, 90% of our cabinets, our fridge and our sink without moving the lower half of my body, or the chair.


Nonetheless (despite the mostly easy-reaches of our little kitchen), I can no longer cook alone.  I cannot reach the spices, I cannot move quickly, I cannot run and leap to hit the smoke alarm when the eggs start burning.  It is now a team effort -- Alex is learning to cook.  While he struggles to get over his fear of raw meat, I am doing my part by taking over dish-duty, a task I can attend to comfortably (no matter how many innocent bystanders I knock into the sink).

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