I am being hedged in by my communication devices: the bed control, the tv control, the phone, the laptop, the thesaurus, magazines, books, a little pile of papers that need tending to, a small baggie with my compact and lipstick...
I am having a hard time thinking, let alone writing. If my house has not always been impeccably clean, it was always neat. Clutter drove me crazy. (Only one of our children inherited the "neatness" gene; the other two thrive in disarray,) I still have a lot I want to say, but by the time I get the correct device in my surrounding (bed)scape, I want to pick up the magazine at hand, instead.
I was talking( complaining) to my Designated Daughter about this, when we both remembered a table Hospice had lent Bob, with a leg that slides under the bed and the table top can be moved over or beside the bed.
I just called Sue, my awesome nurse, and one will be delivered to me!
I probably won't write any more often, but I will be much more comfortable doing it.