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94 / 1096 : When I found out part of my Bertha (my Brain Injury) journey would involve a multi day intense assessment of my functional capacity...well, I'll be honest; I did my fair share of creative cussing. Why?!? Because part of my success at keeping Bertha under lock and key in the basement has been creating a world of predictability. Having a battery of unknown physical and cognitive testing done for 8 hours a day on sequential days does not qualify as predictable. that I've got the multi-day testing out of the way I have to say, the OT who I worked with had the most amazing sense of humor and made the process as easy as possible....and I have a better appreciation for what I can and can't do while keeping my foot on the basement door. Truth be told, I liked the challenge of all the work; taking the training wheels off, letting the brakes go and letting my brain run at full speed. However, to get the testing done, and to find my limits, we had to push me well beyond my limits...and now that idiot Bertha is upstairs hanging out the window yelling at everyone in the neighborhood, blasting horrible music from the stereo and generally being a horrible house guest. Translation....this morning when I got out of the shower I put lotion in my hair and leave in conditioner on my skin. Fingers and toes crossed I can drag her back into the basement.

So what does all of this have to do with this picture? Well, of all the cognitive and physical testing....of all the stuff that I had to do over the past few days....there was one task that for some reason pushed my crazy buttons. This ladies and gentlemen is called the "MATHESON BENCH" looks innocent....but, it is from the devil. Though it is supposed to "Assess (my ability to tolerate) physical demands present in short-duration, table-height, and floor-level tasks"...I think It is designed to frustrate the bejesus out of the point of wanting to fling it through a plate glass window....while yelling profanities in atleast 4 different languages. I had to take apart and put together this damn a specific the very end of the day (Technically I should have taken it apart and put it back together 3 times...but the OT took pity on me and made me do it only once). It was like torture by ikea....unscrew bolt, curse under my breath, sort bolt, washer and wingnut into specific container....move to next attention so piece of metal doesn't knock me in the head...repeat slowly bolt by bolt in a specific manner. Then put the damn thing back together bolt by bolt in reverse order....while turning the air blue with profanity....and trying my very best not to fall over because I was so dizzy at that point. I may have had murderous thoughts about this Matheson arse who came up with it. Better hope I never run into him.....or her.... (apologies to the lovely Matheson person...that is just more of Bertha acting out....she is kinda crazy)

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