I don’t digress, exactly

I should pin this as a page, but I’ll tag it too as a regular post. It fits my usual tags equally, if abstractly.

It occurred to me that some of my posts may be seen as digressions, especially those that talk about disability in general rather than a specific assistive hardware or software, or that mix in NVLD. But I don’t see it that way. As I’ve said, I don’t distinguish between the brain and the body — the brain damage that caused the hemiplegia also caused the NVLD. The hemiplegia, in turn, is contributing to the faster breakdown of the good side of my body. The NVLD causes me assorted bluntnesses and hesitations, a love/dependency for printed language, and grief at being less able to type it — leading to an addict-like effort to get it back. Assistive technology supports me in ALL of this — physically, cognitively, and emotionally — whether I’m explicitly talking about it or not. I wouldn’t be writing any of these posts without it. Not only does it influence how I write, but it has altered how I think and, gradually, speak.

I want technology to be a given here, but also the rest of it, because I can’t enjoy that integration elsewhere — mentioning it in conversation makes the other person uncomfortable because he or she assumes I’m deliberately harping on my disability. Never mind I just think a particular innovation is brilliant, or that computers interest me intensely, or that my computer malfunction is as critical and mundane as your car breaking down. It’s a part of my life. It’s not obvious unless you see or overhear me working, but it’s there. I can’t stand passing — it’s fatiguing. The same goes, obviously, for the NVLD. There is no artificial divide between the blogger who reviews assistive technology and Dragon tips, and the blogger who muses or vents on NVLD. “Both” are one and the same.

TypeMatrix: a possible stick keyboard

NOTE: This is a conjecture, not a review, but it looks promising. (If you’re wondering how I figured this, I brought up the full-sized image of the keyboard and waved my typing stick in front of the screen.)

Every once in awhile, something deliberately designed for two-handed people looks as if it could be appropriated by people who aren’t. The TypeMatrix keyboard (especially the 2020, their old version) might be one of those things. It is NOT a viable one-handed keyboard because the alphabet is split, with the large middle keys making it impossible to type centered. However, it just might work for one-fingered or stick typing with Sticky Keys enabled. (By “stick” I’m thinking of one strapped to the hand, because it’s the only kind I’ve used. I don’t know what the ergonomic requirements are for a mouthstick or headstick; you’d be a better judge of that.)

For starters, the TypeMatrix looks slightly more compact than a standard keyboard — maybe a little smaller than a laptop keyboard. It also appears to use scissor switches like a laptop keyboard, so the key action might not be too bad. While the split QWERTY design would mean a few lifts of the stick, the reach would be a small one. The reach could be mitigated further by the use of word completion and shorthand expansion, setting your system to a one-handed Dvorak layout, or both.

Furthermore, the reach is not entirely a bad thing for stick typing. I say this because the center keys that separate the alphabet are quite useful — large Enter, Tab, Space, and Backspace keys. There are two Backspace keys, bordering either side of the alphabet on the inside. Likewise with the Space keys. The Shift keys are located on the outer edges of both sides, and are large. The Control, Alt, Caps and Function (for activating the numeric keypad assigned to the letters on the right-hand side, and thus Mouse Keys) are grouped in the bottom left-hand corner. I don’t know if the Function key sticks, but I imagine it would have to. The top row of function keys is pretty much your standard arrangement. My only quibble is that it would be a pain to end a sentence with a word ending in a left-hand letter — the punctuation, of course, is all on the right-hand side. However, a one-handed Dvorak layout might prove more conducive.

In short, the TypeMatrix has definite possibilities, but I can’t afford to try it. (The old version, however, is on sale at their website for $50 if you’re feeling adventurous. If someone has used the TypeMatrix as a stick keyboard, I’d like to hear how it is.)

Maltron keyboard research and trivia

A recent comment on one of my posts reminded me to dig through my bookmarks — a while ago I’d stored some interesting tidbits about the Maltron keyboards but forgot to post them. So, some links.

“QWERTYUIOP? Lillian Malt Has Discovered A Better Way” — This is a People Magazine article from 1977, describing the two-handed Maltron keyboard and its use with electric typewriters. The wording clearly shows the article’s age (cringe), but it’s interesting all the same.

Maltron research papers — On this page are research papers written by Stephen Hobday and Lillian Malt, all of which deal with the two-handed keyboard. I would love to see the papers for the one-handed or mouth stick keyboard.

World record for one-handed keyboarding — At the bottom of this page is a mention of Diana L. Erickson, who set a world record in one-handed typing on a Maltron one-handed keyboard: 85 words per minute. Stan Allen has posted a more complete article in his comment on the one-handed keyboard review.

“Rewriting Rules to Make Keys a Work of Art” — This article briefly mentions the Philadelphia Museum of Art’s acquisition of a one-handed Maltron keyboard for its Department of European Art and Sculpture. The writer doesn’t seem to think much of it, and he’s right, compared to the health benefits versus the aesthetic — but I have things to say in a later post about that, because he’s not totally right.

Maltron keyboard on Wikipedia — The Wikipedia article intrigues me because of the dates — from that article, it sounds like the one-handed keyboard might have been invented first. Unfortunately, I don’t have the book cited as the source for that particular claim. I’ll have to look in the library; it sounds interesting. Perhaps the one-handed keyboard got glossed over as a mere “springboard” into the more common two-handed keyboard. Argh. Hate when people do that — as if being used by a smaller number of people makes it any less of a brilliant invention.

FrogPad, RSI and me — OW!!!

Holy God, I’m stupid. I am making this declaration after swallowing more Aleve than I’ve had to for quite some time. The thing is, I decided to be adventurous and borrow a friend’s FrogPad. I knew it wasn’t inherently ergonomic because of its flat shape, but my friend said it helped her with her RSI. What I wasn’t thinking was that my friend is two-handed, and her RSI is mouse related. Therefore, she gets to use her one hand on the keyboard and the other on the mouse, reducing her workload. Totally different situations. A one-handed keyboard for a one-handed person is different from one-handed keyboard designed for two-handed people, no matter what buzzwords the advertisements may use. (Human anthropology, anyone?) Tellingly, one of the slogans is “What would you do with your free hand?” I can appreciate the dual marketing technique in an attempt to mainstream things, but there are certain situations in which someone with a disability might still need a well thought out, more specialized product. This little gimmick wasn’t for me.

My RSI (which is not my sole physical problem, but it’s a big one) affects the only hand I can use. Because of the FrogPad key combinations, I was working this hand to death, even typing very slowly with the keypad propped up. Hell, I was even using shorthand, and still! Never mind that technically “you only need two fingers” — be that as it may, everything I had was aching. Ergo, I was in pain very shortly. I can appreciate the small footprint, but it’s not worth it — I’ll carry my keyboard over my shoulder gladly for as long as I’m able to use it. If by any chance you have RSI in your one functional hand, either stick to voice, find a keyboard that was actually designed for a one-handed person, use Dvorak, or even strap a typing stick to your hand to spare your fingers. Don’t overwork them.

The real Scrabble keyboard

I finally figured out where all the searches for “Scrabble keyboard” came from on my blog stats. I know the Maltron single-handed and stick keyboards resemble the tiles because of the dual letter/number keys, but somehow I don’t think that many people have even heard of the Maltron to be hearing that comparison enough to look it up.

Sure enough, there is a “real” Scrabble keyboard out there, and it’s not the Maltron. The real Scrabble keyboard is an actual do-it-yourself wooden keyboard, with wooden tiles over the key switches — you could indeed use Scrabble tiles. There is a writeup of it on Geekologie: Do It Yourself Wooden Keyboard Available.

Review: The grail of one handed keyboards: Maltron

In the ergonomic keyboard market, one handed people are totally ignored, despite the fact that we have an even greater chance of developing RSI. After being diagnosed with numerous cumulative injuries in my good hand, which were most likely exacerbated by having to type on a standard QWERTY keyboard with it, I relied exclusively on Dragon NaturallySpeaking to access my computer. It’s a beautiful program, and I still use it for intense computer sessions be they Web browsing or 20 page papers. However, there are times and places when using your voice is not possible, or certain applications at work are not voice accessible. So what do you do, with every “split” or “natural” keyboard completely useless to you?

If you can, you save up your money until you can buy a Maltron single-handed keyboard — literally the only ergonomic full keyboard in the world for a one handed person. It was designed in 1977 by Stephen Hobday of Great Britain, and its layout was researched and invented by Lillian Malt, an expert on reading patterns. I can best describe it as the two-handed person’s contoured ergonomic keyboard, cut in half. The layout is obviously different from the two-handed Maltron; the frequency of keys for one hand will be different than for two.

The five home keys are Space ATEH on the right hand, from thumb to pinky finger. The home row in full is Space UISATEHN. Compare this with one hand on a QWERTY keyboard: FGHJ. See how far you have to stretch to get the other letters? Not so good. I fell in love with the frequency of use layout rather quickly; it’s even better than right-handed Dvorak. I confess, though — not being a “texter” — using my thumb for U and I took some getting used to, and to avoid stress I sometimes move over and use my index finger instead. If you have a larger hand span, this might not be a problem for you.

But the layout is only half of it; if it were just that, it would be just another Dvorak. The design is the other half. Not only are the keys compacted, but they are arranged in columns around the curved shape — not staggered — and the columns are recessed according to finger length, reducing the stretching required. The keyboard has a very slight slope to it, so you can rest your hand naturally on the keys without having to turn your arm to make your fingers meet them. Best of all, the keys are Cherry MX switches, which are incredibly gentle to type on — you barely have to press the key half way to generate a character. This doesn’t mean the keys are mushy or hypersensitive; you do have to make a purposeful movement, just a very slight one. After pounding on membrane/rubber dome keyboards, it’s seriously like laying your fingers on pillows.

They’ve pretty much thought of everything. Turn off Sticky Keys in your accessibility options; Maltron built it into the keyboard. The right-hand Shift, located in the thumb group, “latches,” releasing after the next key is pressed. The left-hand Shift is in the top right corner of the numeric keypad, and it locks — you have to press it again to deactivate it. I find the left-hand shift useful for selecting text, or typing in caps with punctuation. It is also useful if you use the tab key to navigate links and miss your mark; press left-hand Shift and tab backwards to your heart’s content. The left-hand control and left-hand Alt lock also, which is useful for executing a series of keyboard shortcuts or — a pleasant surprise — entering the codes for special characters. A red button by the function keys puts you in “numbers mode,” which means you can use the letter keys to enter numbers if you wish instead of the numeric keypad or the regular number keys above the letters. (Note: if you use Mouse Keys, you’ll need to deactivate that for it to work.)

In all, I’m thrilled that I found this keyboard, and impressed that Malt and Hobday troubled themselves to research one-handed data entry as well as two-handed, providing a lifesaver in what other companies would consider just a “niche market” and not worth their time or investment. This keyboard has returned a very important aspect of language to me: muscle memory. Sometimes when I think of words, I think of them in the way my fingers move to type them, and that pattern becomes the word. A mnemonic device, I guess. I can “feel” words again, and that’s worth everything.