Last week for me, the letters A-L-S stood for “A Lot of
Socks.” I tackled a project that would make living with amyotrophic lateral
sclerosis easier for me right now, for my future self, gave me peace of mind,
and yes, it involved socks.
It all began when I was digging through my jumbled mess of a
sock drawer and suddenly a scary Halloween horror movie image popped into my
mind. I saw my future self with a frustrated caregiver who was trying to find
two matching socks in the same messy drawer. Finally snagging two, she held
them high and I, unable to speak
or communicate due to advancing ALS, could only scream in my brain,
“No, no! Not the itchy purple ones with the too-tight elastic at the top!”
OK, maybe the scene isn’t exactly Hollywood-ready. But for
those of us living with ALS, imagining our future and our loss of control —
even with simple things like choice in clothing — can be scary.
Why socks?
I didn’t always have an out-of-control sock drawer; I blame
that problem on ALS. When I was diagnosed, walking safely with my weakened legs
and feet was only accomplished by wearing simple, flat athletic shoes. Inside
those shoes, my feet still hurt, and that, dear readers, was the start of my 11-year
quest to find the perfect sock.
I soon morphed into the Goldilocks of socks. They had to be
not too thick, not too thin, and, cushioned just right.
Modern merchandising shares some of the blame too. It’s
almost next to impossible to buy just one pair of socks. Nowadays they come in
packs of three, six, and even 12. Twelve is quite the commitment, especially
when the Goldilocks in me says, “Nope, not perfect, yet.”
Oh, and I have to throw my well-meaning family and friends
into the mix as well. In an act of defiance, and to help myself cope with having to wear AFOs (ankle-foot orthoses), I decided to only wear brightly colored
knee-highs. Soon, gifts of “happy” socks appeared. I received so many that I
could wear a different pair every day for a month and never have a repeat.
The big declutter day
This certainly wasn’t a gentle Marie Kondo “Do these socks spark joy?”
kind of project. It was more like having to channel a stern Martha Stewart, asking, “When was the
last time you wore these?”
If my answer was more than one year ago, then pffft, into
the bag.
As I sat on a folding chair tossing socks into a plastic
bag, I realized my so-called hoarding was just another version of someday-itis.
As in, “you’ll never know when it will come in handy.”
I remembered all my home-crafter friends who, in the early
pandemic days happily supplied friends and family with handmade masks. I’ll bet
they felt vindicated that all those bits of elastic and pieces of cotton fabric
carefully saved over the years finally came in handy.
But I had to admit I was hard-pressed to think of an
instance when someday a load of partially worn socks would save the day.
Nope, pffft, in the bag.
And before I knew it, the bag was full.
Simplifying and decluttering are beneficial for everyone and
it’s especially good for people who find living with ALS means everything getting slower.
Help your future self and your future caregivers. Let’s make
our home, clothes, and living spaces accessible - - so we can live well while living with
ALS.
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| Dagmar Munn ALS and Wellness Blog |
"Getting organized is a sign of self-respect"
A version of this post first appeared as my column on the ALS News Today website.
On the sock subject...we've found alternatives for my husband to the traditional bland compression socks available from medical suppliers. Our favorites to date are Bombas and Sockwell socks. They come in different lengths and are "easy enough" for me to put on him using a Sigvaris donning 'cone and cuff'. I think the socks might actually spark joy, but now to clean that sock drawer. Thanks Dagmar!
ReplyDeleteAnother great article! They are always uplifting and inspiring. Thank you.😊
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