Gloves

People always ask me: "Why are you wearing gloves?" That's the one accessory you will never see me leave the house without. If I cannot find a pair that matches and I'm in a real hurry, I just grab whatever right and left ones in seemingly good shape I can find. I use them for protection as I roll. It's sounds like a very obvious thing to say, but I subject my hands to a lot everyday. Over the years I've had to give up on my dream of becoming a hand model (kidding of course) as calluses and corns formed everywhere. Even before I finally settled in a wheelchair many years of walking with sticks in legbraces caused me to develop some really hard skin on my palms. At the age of 10 my hand felt so rough to the touch as if I worked at a coal mine all day. Before I wore gloves, I would irritate or cut my hands from either grabbing the bar while the wheels are rolling or the continuous friction. They would turn red, sometimes bleed from the constant exposure to the tire. When I go up a hill, I push hard and grip tightly, when I go down I pull the wheels with my hands to slow it down. My right hand, the one that is more affected by my disability, is probably not aligned properly to come in contact  less. I used to wear biking gloves. But if I didn't place the fingers correctly I'd end up hurting and whatever parts of my hand would stick out were getting dirty. I needed a full glove, and none of the ones on the market today last me very long. But I manage with what I have. Gloves became a regular part of my wardrobe and my mom sends me some of the fancier types from Poland. You wear them like other people do shoes, she says- they need to be presentable. But then nobody goes through a pair of shoes every 6 to 8 weeks. They tear usually under the thumb which is where I push onto the wheel the hardest. A little worn out area that just gets bigger until my skin is seen through a hole. Sometimes, because of the hot and humid weather the inner material reacts with my sweat and leaves a residue. On other occasions they just split at the seams. Football gloves, batting, climbing gloves were never designed to sustain such repeated abuse. Even the advertised Four season wheelchair gloves didn't last me a full one. There are pairs that I use on special occasions that fit with particular outfit. The ones golfers use are too delicate to roll outside, but they are white and clean and feel appropriate with a suit.  The right ones I ruin quickly,  the left ones I typically lose. Left hand is the one I usually do things with so I take gloves off for comfort and better precision. The thicker ones sometimes give me a better grip, but are much hotter to wear and feel clumsy. Every new type, every new thickness takes some time getting used to  As I sweat and they get dirty I need to wash them, which is not the best thing to do if they are leather.  .After I do many of them, irrespective of the material feel different. Tighter and harder. I have a box of gloves in my living room that either have a hole in them or  missing the pair. Yes, because of that my friends have called me Michael Jackson before. But you can never understand what my hands go through without looking at the gloves I'm wearing. When somebody asks me why I do I ask them to take a look at how tor and splitting they are and imagine they are  my hands