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Unarmed and dangerous
The difficulties of college life with one arm down
By Megan Fishel, Staff Writer
April 18, 2008 | 6 a.m.
Let's preface this fiasco by saying that generally I’m not a clumsy person. Although I have been known to occasionally trip up a stair or two, I don't have a problem with multitasking. Generally. However, we all have less-than-graceful moments.
So here's how it all went down. Brace yourselves. I was walking out of a friend’s apartment on Court Street whilst tucking my hair into my hoodie in order to better brave the elements. No sooner had I lifted my arm did I discover that my depth perception isn't nearly as good as I thought it was. Hitting my elbow on a steel doorframe caused possibly the most disgusting crunching sound I've ever heard in my life.
Sparing too many details for the sake of weak stomachs, it wasn't broken. One hell-sent trip to Hudson Health Center would show that the bone was fine, but my tendons were crushed. (Did I mention the part where I sat waiting for X-rays for 35 minutes before the nurse came back to say, "Oops, my mistake. Our X-ray technician isn't in today." Genius, pure genius.)
So where did all of this tendon crushing and pointless waiting leave me? In a sling with my right arm fastened to my body. Me, a journalist, with only the use of my left arm, my weak and incapable arm, for two whole weeks. This got me wondering, though. Just how friendly is Athens going to be when I really, really needed a friend?
Within the first two hours of harnessing my amazing sling apparatus, four people told me to "take it easy" with a mostly earnest and genuine tone.
Getting to and from my destinations wasn't all that easy. For one thing, Ohio University may have a beautiful and historic campus, but the doors in this joint are HEAVY. The amount of people that would hold a door open for me was just about equal to the amount of people who would let it slam in my face. I've also noticed that not every building has those nice silver buttons that open the door for you either, which, when one-handedly juggling an umbrella, a book bag and a set of keys, would really come in handy.
Dining halls weren't much fun either. Maybe it's just me, but I never realized how heavy a tray of food can be. Or how pushy some people are when you take three seconds longer to make a salad. I'd just about given up on using my meal plan when I remembered the ever ready Grab ‘n’ Go. This is perhaps where I experienced the greatest act of kindness.
Nelson Dining Hall’s March Madness event had the place swamped with people just dying to get some nachos or whatever it is those crazy college kids go nuts for. I just wanted dinner. After waiting behind a guy who was blocking the entire table where the order slips were, I poked him in the side and asked if he could just hand me a slip and a little pencil. To my surprise, he generously offered to fill the slip out for me. He even read me the new items for the night, took it up to the register for me, and bagged up all my food and drink. It was a totally unexpected and greatly appreciated act of kindness.
This kind of thing from a complete stranger really renewed my faith in society, even if just for the night. Who would guess that the next night my "best friends" would leave me stranded at the end of Court Street in the middle of the night to walk all the way back to South Green, defenseless against the campus drunkards? I felt vulnerable, helpless and for the first time since I've been at OU, scared.
I did make it back to my dorm safe and sound, though, and there was still enough of the night left to hang out with my mod-mates. Even with one arm, I managed to play "Guitar Hero" and dominate them all entirely. (That definitely goes under my victories category).
I think we can all agree that a trip to the market is rarely a stress-free time, but under these circumstances it was down right horrible. (Did you know a quart of milk weighs two pounds? Did you also know my left arm is possibly the weakest arm that ever was?) Laundry wasn't much fun either, but I did find that dragging the basket is much easier than pushing it. A few strangers from the fourth floor offered to help, but I was already closing in on the crest of the summit and wanted to prove that I could do it myself. Thanks, but this time, no thanks.
So what did I learn from all this besides how to type with one hand? People will believe you when you tell them you fell doing a keg stand. OU is handicap accessible-ish. Hudson is kind of like “The Twilight Zone.” Some friends will help me get ready for bed every single night while others will leave me to die. Not all strangers warrant the "stranger danger" slogan we learned as children. The chaos of the market is intensified with one functioning arm, and laundry sill isn't any fun. Perhaps most importantly is that as a community, we can be nice and helpful to people even if they aren't disabled.
What's stopping us from holding doors open for everyone, not just the ones in slings? Or walking with our friends whether they are feeling extra vulnerable or not? I'm not quite sure. It may take everyone experiencing their own less-than-graceful moments to realize that being nice to people can make all the difference in the world. If we all take little steps toward the greater good, Athens can stay the picture-perfect town that we all know and love.
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