ONCE SIMPLE, NOW IMPOSSIBLE
Glad to see you here for a walk. I want to share a favorite pet peeve of mine.
Lately I have been struggling more and more with my ability to open things - usually very necessary things. When I was younger, I did not pay attention to the process of opening some of my pill bottles. As I have now entered the octogenarian stage of my life, I find the factory safety methods for keeping children out of pill bottles also is very effective in also keeping anyone over the age of seventy out of the pill bottles.
For example, just yesterday I needed to take an Extra-Strength Tylenol. According to the red-coded directions that were stamped into the red lid (making it even harder to read), I should press down on the lid while turning the lid counter clockwise. That sounded simple enough. Thirty minutes later, after bruising my arthritic hand and forcing the weight of my entire torso into an effort to try to turn the small lid, I finally just gave up! I decided to take a short break in my recliner so I rested for another thirty minutes, as the application of Voltaren gel took effect, as I planned my next attack on the pill bottle.
This time, I approached the bottle with renewed determination. Placing a protective device (dish towel) between the lid and the now injured palm of my hand, I took a deep breath and put all the force I could muster into that lid (fortunately, the bladder and bowels held). Amazingly, the lid moved and I was now able to unscrew it from the bottle. However, to my dismay, because the bottle was new, under the lid it was completely sealed in a thick foil with tiny printed words that stated that the seal was there for my protection. I tried in vain to remove the seal, clawing at it with my finger tips. I came to the conclusion that only a sharp knife would be able to puncture the fortress of foil. Grabbing the sharpest, deadliest knife in the drawer, I stabbed at the seal, and opened the portal to the wonders of modern medicine, somehow without further injuring my hand. Finally after one hour, I was now able to take the one Tylenol I needed. However, I now needed two pills because of the radiating pain in my hand, my fingers, my back and my shoulder!
Looking down at the container, I resolved I would not close that lid again! I remembered the old “easy to open” bottle that I had discarded in the trash earlier that day. Yes, stooping to a new low, I dug through all the kitchen trash and finally uncovered the cherished bottle at the bottom of the can! The lid was still on, so I washed the outside and transferred all the pills from the new bottle to the old. In case you are concerned, I did change the expiration date on the outside with a sharpie pen and relaxed knowing that I would not have to struggle with another new bottle, until this one was empty. I must use them sparingly!
I do completely understand the necessity for placing all medication in safety containers. I remember the Tylenol scare from years back and as a Nana, I understand the need to secure medication from little hands. However, someone needs to remember the old people, as it is the old that tend to need more pills, and the pill bottles are just one of many problems. Bare with me as I share my list of a few of the others:
Flip tops on cans: They are so common (soup, vegetables, soda pop or beer). While holding the product one simply pulls the ring-tab with one finger. Not exactly. Sometimes the tab snaps, and you are left holding the small ring, looking down at a solid silver cover. Now what do you do? You look through your very messy and crowded utensil drawer for perhaps a can opener or a “church” key. At this point, the easy-access container has become a hazard because no matter how you open it, you will create hazardous sharp edges, and your possibility of injury has increased by 100 percent!
Milk, juice or other beverages in a large carton: A small round knob covers the access area into the container. Just try turning that little device! I have tried counterclockwise and clockwise, but it would not budge. At this point, I will share that I do have a sacred scrap of rubber material which I trimmed from a mat which is intended to keep my floor rugs from slipping. This now has a special place in my kitchen drawer, as this miracle fabric, when held around the knob, removes it with ease. However, I am not yet done. I now must navigate through the dreaded “pull-tab”(similar to the flip can tap, but plastic). Planting my feet firmly into an athlete’s stance, and holding the full container securely, I pull with
great force and am finally able to unveil the opening to the liquid, which unfortunately half of which has now spilt all over my counter.
Milk, juice or other beverages in a tiny carton:
These are those handy little containers usually found in fast-food serving areas, hospital dining, and the ever popular subway. The instructions are simple, and even direct you to the appropriate corner to fold and separate. It does not work! Remember, these are designed for K-12 school children. Arthritic fingers may be fortunate enough to eventually spread apart one of the two corners, with the goal to only open half of the top portion of the box. However, you have now reached the point of no return - you have no alternative but to spread apart the entire top of the carton. Now the container of liquid has four floppy sides, which will collapse if you try to drink from the edges, so you are forced to use a straw which dances away from your lips in the vast circumference of the space.
Amazon packages that arrive by mail: A soft package with something you HAD to have arrives. The directions on the outside require that you pull the plastic tab on the top of the package to open. Have you ever tried to do that? I ask, because first of all, the tab is hidden somewhere under the many folds of the plastic package. After searching for about twenty minutes a transparent piece of plastic is discovered. You lift it up with your fingers and pull. Nothing! You check the other end and pull. Nothing! So now you have managed to age by another twenty minutes (remember "Octos" value each minute left) Time to reach for the scissors and blindly cut through the packaging, hoping not to slice and destroy that something that you HAD to have!
Cable T.V: You have a digital T.V. that has all the 10,000 channels that you will never get to watch in your lifetime. The storm last night, or a power outage, or a power surge has suddenly removed all of the pre-set controls. What to do? According to the information now projected on the screen, you are to call a number which will connect you with a “helper”. As I dial, I am thinking that I need a person to come and fix my T.V. When I was a child, Mama always called Mr. Kincaid who lived down the road. I’m hoping that it will be Mr. Kincaid who answers on the other end of the line. No! It was not Mr. Kincaid, however a nice lady answered and we began a very intimate relationship in fine-tuning and reestablishing the T.V. to former memory. After muddling through her vocabulary of three-letter acronyms (none of which I understood) I learned that I was to simply unplug the T.V. from the electrical source, wait ten minutes and the T.V would miraculously reprogram itself! Now THAT, I can remember!
I am certain there are many more simply complicated annoyances, but these are a few of the ones I experience most often. Perhaps I should start a list of all the tasks that have become complicated, and keep them in a notebook. On second thought, probably not. I started a small notebook several years back to keep a list of the safe places I had put things, because I kept forgetting where things were. This list worked until I forgot where I put the notebook!
Wouldn’t it be nice if when going to sleep each night, I could simply unplug, and my brain would miraculously reprogram itself while I slept?
Oh, the pondering of it all!
