Thursday, May 22, 2008

The prevent defense sucks in football and life

I hate when the Redskins play the "bend but don't break" defense because it never works. They give up 5 yards abd 5 yards, and then they break miserably, give up a touchdown and lose the game again.

But this is what I am reduced to playing in life. I bend, oh yes, I bend, much farther than I think possible. Unlike the Redskins I don't break, at least not yet.

Tonight, I left in the middle of a good Simpsons to go for a walk with Claren. We went down the other side of the street because the sun was still hitting that sidewalk. The sun did make it hard to look ahead, though, and maybe that is why I didn't see the 6-inch ditch next to the sidewalk. The lush green grass also covered it well ... until I hit it.

The grass gave way and my right front wheel plunged downward. I pitched forward, bending at the waist and wound up resting on my joystick and pushing it forward. Fortunately, the middle wheels, which are the ones that move, were touching nothing. The right middle wheel was in the ditch but not all the way down. The left middle wheel was in the air as I tilted awkwardly.

I am not sure how I avoided falling over; I actually envisioned it. Given the precariousness I was afraid to move but knew if I didn't sit up, I'd be doomed. Somehow I got both feet on the ground and pushed myself up. Then I used my legs to push me and the chair backward. At the same time, I was giving the chair juice to move back. These got me out of the ditch and from there I got back on the sidewalk.

Just as I recovered, an SUV stopped and a mom with several 10-year-old girls asked if I was OK. I told her I was. I don't think she meant metaphysically or emotionally.

All this happened after I wrote the following post. I wrote it when I got home from work because I could not nap because the people who clean my condo were there, never mind that they were due last week and come on Wednesdays:

You're really used to this, the echocardiogram tech said as I flopped off the examining table into my chair. I didn't say anything, but I was thinking that yes, after nine plus years of full-time wheelchair use, I know how to get my body from here to there. I knew, for instance, that I would be OK because I had a tight grasp on my chair and the bed. I knew that my legs would buckle, but that the muscles would eventually kick in and keep me off the floor.

But I am used to it? Oh, no. I don't know if I ever will be, or even want to be. Almost every transfer brings with a breathless curse. I hate it, I hate it, I hate it. And there is nothing I can do about it.

Nothing but not break, I guess.


Anonymous said...

I am glad to see the moms in minivans network is active in the South as well. I am also glad you are OK. As for the second half of the blog (the original first half), I know you are angry and sad and that when you write, you are more free to express those things. I just want you to know that you do not come across that way to people, at least not to the people I live with and the people you have met up here. You come across as a regular guy, sometimes mad or sad but typically funny and witty and smart. I love all the parts of you

Matt said...

I wish I knew which one was the real me.

Anonymous said...

they are all the real you. jsut like the needy me is as real as the competent me.

Matt said...

Well, yeah, but do I do people a disservice by hiding my bitterness behind a cheery wall?

Anonymous said...

I don't think it is a dis-service. If you were grumpy all the time it would be bad, but you are both things, just like any person. No one is cheerful all the time and even the people who seem happy alot have days when you see the veneer chipping off. I think you do just fine

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