Tools Of A Primitive Man

I recall someone, somewhere, sometime saying that you could fix a Ford with a piece of wire, a screwdriver and some tape. It is presumeably an urban legend, we all know that Ford's are not worth fixing. It does however serve to remind me of a couple of items which I find indispensable, and which on a scale of high tech to low tech would rank as positively caveman-ish! They are small, unobtrusive, but without them my days would be more difficult and challenging, and I have reached that stage in life where simple and easy are good.

The first is my wheelchair footrest, which consists of a piece of knotted string. OK, so it is not actually string, more parachute cord, but it is knotted. I’ve never found wheelchair footrests comfortable. My first wheelchair, which I took delivery of in 1974, not long after the wheel was invented, came with fixed footrests. They only served two purposes, to carry my school suitcases and those of my mates, and to clip stupid people’s ankles. The next wheelchair came with removable footrests, and that is precisely what happened to them, they were removed. Like the soles of my shoes, my footrests have always remained in pristine condition, untouched my human feet. I’ve been through four sets of footrests, all as shiny new the day I passed them on as the day they arrived. I prefer my piece of knotted string, slung between the two side frames of the chair. It’s a bit hard on my tender bare feet, my usual choice for daily footwear, so I sometimes resort to a converted shoulder bag strap which helps spread the tension across the underside of my feet. With my piece of knotted string my wheelchair is shorter, lighter, better balanced, and as a bonus I can store my footrest in my top pocket!

The second indispensable item I encountered by chance. Many years ago a friend who was in the manufacturing industry loaned me a small folding ruler, but after I had discovered its hidden abilities she never got it back. A little over 15cm long when folded, it can be extended zig-zag fashion to a metre in length. More importantly, each folding section has a notch at the 90 degree point, so one can fold an L, or U, shape into it. I can fold it out to its full length, or I can keep it short and compact, my choice. It makes a brilliant reacher, pusher, puller, or pointer, and it’s quite handy for measuring things too.

Perhaps my most useful, and used, caveman tool is a simple wooden stick. A 40cm wooden dowel, with a rubber stopper on each end. It’s my magic wand, my swizzle stick, my cattle prod. I use it to turn on lights, push television and computer buttons, answer the intercom, and even to cough. Yes, as strange as it sounds, if I’m suffering from some chest congestion, I place one end of the stick against a wall, and the other end on my sternum, lean forward against the stick, and cough. The resistance and pressure generated against my chest allows me a stronger cough. Works like a charm!

Last, but by no means least is my drinking straw. I’ve never been able to sit up in bed, or prop myself up on my side, so since my long months in hospital over 30 years ago I have used a flexible straw when schlurping my morning or evening mug of coffee. I have vivid memories of the milk which we we served in hospital as being delicious. We had competitions with the nurses to suck the milk out our glasses faster than they could pour. The strange things one remembers! Previously I had a source of used drip tubes, which worked perfectly. These days I buy clear plastic tubing, sold by the metre, which keeps me in touch with my coffee for many years.

No doubt, in a medical equipment supply store, one can find fancy aluminium and plastic versions of most of the abovementioned devices. There’s a gadget for virtually everything these days, but I am comfortable with my caveman tools. They cost me nothing, I developed them myself, they’re all an integral part of my home. Heck, if Eskom shuts off our electricity I might even be able to use my magic wand to make fire in my cave!