A beautiful smile!

Buying a home can be overwhelming.

Buying a car can be confusing.

But buying a new toothbrush should be neither!

Or so I thought upon facing the toothbrush “aisle.”  (Yeah, when something has its own “aisle,” you know you’re screwed!)

I thought it would be a no-brainer, grab & go item.  I had no idea buying a toothbrush would require more choices than Golden Corral!

There were toothbrushes with different sized heads.  Square heads.  Rectangular heads.  Heads that were tilted for a “greater angle of attack.”  (I know that is good for a putty knife–but this is my toothbrush!)

Many brushes had angled handles to reach back teeth.

Some were shaped like dental instruments.  (I don’t like going to the dentist, so why would I want to be reminded of this every time I brush my teeth?)

And the bristles of the toothbrush! 

 Hard or soft.  Different textures, lengths, sizes and shapes.  One brand had “bend & flex” bristles—am I brushing my teeth or doing calisthenics?

Some were “curved to clean between teeth and along the gum line.”

And a few had “soft gum stimulators” that resembled a French tickler for oral hygiene!

Further down the aisle, the choices for electric toothbrushes were just as numerous.

“Oscillating”…”Rotating”, these things had more moves than Beyonce!

In fact, the Sonicare Brand electric toothbrush vibrates at 31,000 strokes of brushing power per minute!

Thirty-one thousand!  Am I clearing away plaque…or filing down tooth enamel to the root!

So many choices, so few brain cells.

Maybe I’ll just stick to the free toothbrush my dentist provides each visit.

Have you faced this dental dilemma?  How did you make your choice?

Spit, rinse and share your comment.

And don’t forget to floss.

It was a brief exchange of words.  Six to be exact.

Her two…”Got it?”

And my wordy response of four…”Yeah, I got it.”

What a scary man!

Sure, there were fewer words spoken during the Kardashian nuptial, but these six words have been bouncing around inside my empty head longer than the time between Bruce Jenner’s bad facelifts!

I was attempting to step onto a curb.

It was the shortcut to the brick sidewalk rather than using the ramp way on the other side of my car.  (I’m lazy like that!)

Looking like a toddler taking its tentative first steps before attempting a big climb, I must have looked apprehensive to the woman getting into her car parked next to mine.

When she asked “Got it?” several different interpretations flashed through my mind.

I’m sure she meant “Got it?” as in “Do you need some help?”

But you know, I have MS paranoia—so every word, phrase and glance is over-analyzed in my lesion-filled brain box!

Maybe she meant “Got it?” as in “You got MS?—I can tell.”  It’s a super-hero power.  Kinda like we MSers believe we have a sixth sense of who has MS by the way they walk.  I’ve done it at the mall.  You see someone walk-drag-hike the hip past and you say to yourself..”Bet she has MS.”

But for a fleeting moment, the male ego side of me thought she meant “Got it?” as in “You got it baby!”

Naa, a poop-cramp quickly brought me back to reality.

My first assumption was correct.  She was asking if I needed help over that six-inch curb.  (It seemed like two-feet, I swear!)

“Yeah, I got it,” as I wavered stepping over the curb and onto the tricky, uneven brick sidewalk that lay before me.

Content her help wasn’t needed, the lady got in her car and drove away.

I breathed a sign of relief as it always makes me feel uncomfortable when a stranger asks if I need assistance.

But my relief didn’t last long as a mere twenty steps later, my draggy right foot caught a Shaun White edge on a brick causing me to faceplant near the entrance.  (Bricks aren’t soft.)

I wanted to get up quickly so my fall would go unnoticed, but when you move slower than continental drift—it is easier said than done.

A man came out of the building.  “You need help?” he asked.

“Naa, I got it,” I responded, coming to my feet like a punch-drunk boxer in the 12th round.

So goes life as My Odd Sock.  That’s ok, I got it.

Shop Early!  Save Big! 

My Odd Sock will open early Friday at 2am.

 Save 50% on punchlines, jokes & puns.

Save 40% on all inane references to “B” list celebrities.

Buy one call-back joke and get the second one free!

Happy shoppers at My Odd Sock

Multiple Sclerosis symptoms are also included!

Save big on body tremors and foot-drop.

Substancial savings on balance, slurred speech & incontinence.

Short term memory loss and depression are not included in this sale.

Depression and short term memory are not included in this sale.

Don’t miss the After-Thanksgiving Black Friday holiday sale at My Odd Sock.

Happy Thanksgiving!

You know, nothing says Thanksgiving like…….

The pilgrims would be proud.

…an ice cream cake shaped like a turkey!

Thank you Baskin Robbins, my holiday now has purpose!

Have a tremendous holiday.

Being a holiday week, some of you may be on the go, so I thought it would be fun to revisit a travel experience!  Enjoy… 

Did you know November is National Aviation Month?  And here at the My Odd Sock household, we are busy celebrating!

While I am frantically addressing my Avaition Month cards, our home is decorated with tinkling aircraft landing lights and filled with the sweet aroma of jet fuel.  It is a special time indeed!

Being Aviation Month, I thought I would give a flip of the tube sock to Southwest Airlines, who made flying with a wheelchair extremely easy!

Southwest Airlines allowed me to “roll” all the way to the plane where I adeptly transformed from a skilled wheelchair driver into my uncoordinated, baby giraffe taking its first few steps, awkward scuffle-gait to my seat—any seat I wanted!

You see, Southwest Airlines, like most carriers, allow people who need assistance with screaming babies (or those with more walking aids than Ironman) to board the aircraft before others.

Funny thing, Southwest doesn’t have assigned seating, so flyers are put in “priority groups–A, B, C” and then are boarded in that order.  Well, chums in wheelchairs are given higher priority, so as we roll to our designated holding corral, I find myself in the middle of about 50 people in wheelchairs!  I had never seen so many in one place.  It was like the freakin Wheelchair Olympics!  I checked the calendar to see if it was Labor Day and time for the MDA telethon.  There were more wheels than a Goodyear Tire store!

Suddenly, a Southwest Airlines rep waded through the sea of chairs and approached ME for some polite chit-chat.  He thanked ME for flying with Southwest.

I asked my wife what that was all about—why did he only speak to me?

She replied, “Look around.  All these wheelchairs belong to the airport.  You are the only one with your own chair.”

Ahh, I see.

Being smarter than the average disabled bear, I surmised these people used “wheelchair assistance” so they could get higher priority and board the plane first.  First to board–first to get the complimentary bag o’ snacks.

My assumption was correct when we landed.  These people bolted from the plane like they were descendants of Jesse Owens.  If you looked close you could see little puffs of smoke behind each of their footfalls.  They put the NFL’s 40-yard dash times to shame!

It was so sad—yet, it was hysterical!

A sad reflection on how society circumvents policy to improve one’s own situation (pretty good for something written by an idiot, right?).

Oh well, what are you gonna do?  You can only laugh.

So, happy Aviation Month to all and thank you for flying with Southwest Airlines (figured maybe I could get a free ticket…. or a bag of snacks).

OK, maybe “access denied” is a bit extreme.

Let’s try “access impeded”…or “access inconvenienced.”

Whatever you call it, if you use a wheelchair, scooter or rollator, getting around, into, or out of a place, building or activity can be downright frustrating at times.

For instance, just this past weekend, I attended a football game in a stadium that was built WAY before the A.D.A. was even a glimmer of an idea.

The stadium probably dated somewhere between the Roman Empire and the birth of Gandhi.  Needless to say it wasn’t easy to plant my tuckus on that splintery, wooden plank of a seat!

The journey began by rolling my wheelchair down a long. very narrow walkway situated below & in front of the grandstand.  The walkway had chain-link fencing along both sides.  And it was narrow–my knuckles scraped the sides as I rolled my chair.  So narrow in fact, you can find wider birth canals on the “Jerry Springer Show.”  It was so close Gabourey Sidibe’s skinny jeans have more room!

Finally reaching the end, bloody knuckles and all, I realized with no ramp I would be forced to ditch the wheelchair and climb the dozen steps to the seating area. 

Being early evening, fatigue was working overtime…that, along with nervousness of a new situation…and spasticity from a two-hour car ride were triple-teaming me to a frustrated pulp!  But forging ahead, I held my cane & the rail in my right hand while using my left hand to lift, first my left leg and then my right leg up EACH step.

It was ridiculously slow going.  Egyptians built the pyramids faster!

Reaching the top, I felt like Sir Edmund Hillary.  I wanted to plant a flag into the ground to signify my conquest…but instead, I lost grip of my cane and it slipped between the boards, falling 12 feet to the ground below–doinking a woman on the head along the way.

I let loose with a sentence of expletives that would make a street thug blush.  I was proud of using a curse word as a subject, verb, adjective and even a preposition in the SAME sentence!

Some kind soul handed my cane back through the boards and off I went to find a seat.

As I mentioned before, these were old bleachers, so there were no railings, not even aisles for that matter!  There was no way I could climb the seats for a higher vantage point–so in the front row I sat.  (With everyone milling in front of me, I realized why no one sat in the front row!)

After the game, we waited for everyone to exit the stands before I attempted my herky-jerky walk.  We went through the same obstacle course as before, only this time we were directed to a different exit gate.  This gate was inspired by the stockyards of Chicago as it included a chain-link (they LOVE chain-link in this place!) U-shaped corral.  Again, it was so narrow, I had to collapse my wheelchair and walk through the steel-cage confines to freedom.  (My God, I’ve been in roomier MRI tubes!)

My point in sharing this long-winded adventure is that we as MSers are quite blessed to live in the era we do.  The work of the A.D.A. has opened doors for those of us who need a little extra assistance.  Sure, from time to time we run into obstacles like I faced last Friday night.  But they only serve to remind us of how far we’ve come!

Have a horror story you dare to share?  Lay it on us and listen for the chorus singing “Been there-Done that!”

Happy Trails.