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The Delay

I've been critical of how slow communication is on a speech generating device; pair that with a mind-reading, impatient, git-r-done husband, and you have potential for comedy.

A few nights ago, my micro-bead-filled neck pillow sprang a leak. My caregivers placed medical tape over the offending seam, in an effort to stem the flow of teeny, tiny, little, electrostatically-charged, styrene beads and set it aside, so I would remember to ask my husband to buy a new one.

Tonight, as he was trying to get out of my room at, what he considers, a decent hour, I anunciate "p-i-l-l-o-w" to alert him to an urgent need and begin visually-pecking out instructions on the Tobii: T-a-ke m-y b-l-ue p-i-l-low. I n-eed y-ou to b-u-y a n-ew o-ne b-e-c-ause... "

Riiiiiip. Off came the tape and out spewed a thousand little white balls.

Oh.
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Location: 2720 E Madison St, Seattle, WA 98112, USA

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