better != good

I was sick last week. Not dangerously sick, and not even all that painfully sick (*). Just miserably sick, with a sinus infection and cough and the kind of draining fatigue that turned Going Across The Street For More Juice And Cough Drops into a seriously daunting expedition. There's some medical and financial business that needs to be done over the phone during business hours, and I didn't even try it when I was home, between fatigue and sounding so disreputable (my boss thought I was evolving into a mime, when I called to say I was sick.)

Today was better, though going to work was challenging. I walked to the bus stop in the town center slower than usual, stopping to rest a few times along the way. That's not a big deal, the weather was nice, and I could take a later bus. Reading slower than usual is never a problem -- text always waits. Listening slowly is hideously embarrassing. And lab work? I don't appreciate how much dust I breathe every day at work, because most days it doesn't set me off coughing as soon as I walk into the lab. I'm really hoping tomorrow will be better.

(*) The hand actually hurt less than usual, presumably because I was using it so little. Unfortunately, a sinus infection is a fairly nasty migraine trigger, so it wasn't a net win.

accessibility

I expect jars to be difficult to open. Jars have a (reasonably) standard design, that can be defeated with one of my favorite assistive devices. I expect even more difficulties from certain kinds of foods, or from those little plastic child-proof bottles of over the counter medicines. Those are the times I resent living alone, and try to use my teeth in ways that appall my dentist. There are some thing I really value about having my own place. And I do have friends a few miles away, that I can call if I need them. We just think of "need" differently, when we're a few miles away rather than in the next room.

There's a relatively recent trend to package cold medicines one pill at a time, in little plastic bubbles over foil, over cardstock. In theory, one is supposed to peel back the cardstock and push the pill through the foil. (But, Bullwinkle! That trick never works!) With a regular child-proof bottle, it's possible to get help opening the bottle once, and then transfer the pills to an easy-open bottle. With the cardstock trick, I need help with each pill. Or various assistive devices -- I can get a Sucrets out with only a paperclip, but the decongestant/expectorant (Robitussin and the store brand are packaged the same) needs 3 knife cuts per capsule.

But ok. I understand why drugs are sealed. This evening I spent far too long struggling with a bag of little carrots. (Why, yes. I do pay a premium so I don't have to scrub or pare them.) They came in a big bag with what was supposed to be a resealable plastic zipper. It might have been resealable, if it had been I could have opened it in the first place. But the zipper was stronger than the plastic bag! I gave up and took a knife to it. I'm not interested in testing (what remains of) my hand strength against a bag, and I'm somewhat interested in storing leftover carrots in this bag, closing it with a twist tie if need be. Something is wrong with this picture, and not all of it is the fundamental wrongness of my right hand.