Skip to main content

Saved Phrases

Do you cut toenails? Cut straight across, do not shape by clipping. This prevents ingrown toenails.

This is my latest saved message, or phrase, that I stored in my Tobii. I save many messages to my augmentative and alternative communication (AAC) device, in the hope that I will remember them, and be able to retrieve at a later date, when next I need them. Trouble is, the next time I want to access this message, I must remember the exact wording I, originally, used at the time I saved it. Or at the very least, Do you cut... 

Good luck with that!  Time passes and before you know it, you need someone to trim those tree climbers, again. This time your favorite, experienced caregiver is available. Obviously, you don't need to use your saved message. More time passes. Those pesky toenails grow. I may be dying...losing muscle, and my very breath, every day. Tell it to my toenails. 'Cuz they didn't get the memo. They are resplendent.

Time to cut toenails, yet again. All new staff, or caregivers unfamiliar with clipping the nails of people, other than themselves, are available to choose from. Will you cut... or Can you cut... fails to yield the proper result. Forget about plucking a keyword, like Toenail or Toenails out of the hundreds of saved messages, because Tobii don't play that.

I've tried naming conventions, like Toenail. Do you cut...or Toenails. Do you cut... Only to discover that I made an error and saved it as Toenails  - Do you cut..., or some similar. Are you getting these small details in the minutiae? It's truly mind-boggling.

Tobii Dynavox, a new system is in order. As Captain Jean-Luc Picard used to say, Make it so.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Lashing Out

Fed up. Sick of hearing, "I'm sorry."  Apologies don't erase the pain you inflict on me. You pull my pubic hair. Your nitrile gloves pull the hair from my head. Not once in a while but day in and day out. You turn me in a manner that suits you rather than in a manner that doesn't stress my body. Why won't you use the pad and sheet to turn me as one unit? Instead, you allow my body to twist as you hold me one-handed. How good you are at your job. What part of "my muscles are dying" don't you understand?

Fall

Orange, gold, rust, burnt sienna, ochre, raw umber; the riot of fall colors, in the trees and at our booted feet; a drive in the countryside; the taste of hot apple cider on my lips; the satisfaction of a truckload of firewood we gathered and cut ourselves; elk herds on the move; hearty stews, savory soup, crusty whole-grain bread, pumpkin and gingerbread spice lattes; these are the memories I tap into the most this time of year. Cabela's fliers in the mailbox; Carhart's camo-clad hunters swarm outlying areas; mushroom garthering; huckleberry picking; logger burgers; forest service roads; cheese sandwiches on the woodstove; warm quilts, cool sheets, and flannel nightgowns; cold butt, warm heart.  Immensely grateful to have the well of memories to draw upon.

Shards Cling To

I just met my new psychologist and I already like her. I would say that it is effortless to talk to her, but talking to anyone through an augmentative and alternative communication (AAC) device takes a great deal of effort. One must think about what to say and drill it down concisely and succinctly, Then attempt to type it out with your eyes on a wonderous, but infuriating machine, and hope you nail the 'Speak' button, and not the 'Cancel' button. You're praying that the device doesn't spontaneously, disengage the eye gaze, leaving you mute and helpless. You're also praying that the calibration holds and your eyes don't tire or dry out. Aside from all of that, she did not overwhelm me with rapid fire questions, nor invade my personal space, by insisting on reading while I'm writing, instead of allowing me to "speak". Those things are huge. Counseling somebody with my disabilities, present unique challenges. I have major physical deficit...