Sunday, June 14, 2009

My left foot sucks

In almost every episode of the old Superfriends cartoon, one of the superheroes would be trapped and the villain would be about to triumph. The superhero (usually Superman) would say like "Must … break … free," and through sheer willpower he would escape, beat the enemy and save the Earth.

Superman never met a villain like Friedreich's ataxia.

Yesterday when my brother-in-law was almost killing me, I sprained the big toe on my left foot.

It hurts but not like it is broken, and Mom was able to look at it last night and it did not feel too swollen. I was a little worried that it might swell up overnight and I wouldn't be able to walk, but then I remembered I can't walk anyways. I just took some Advil and went to bed.

And it was fine this morning until I tried to put a little weight on and get in the shower. I wound up on the floor of the shower. Mom, who was right outside, heard the thump and asked if I needed help. I said yes and she got Dad to help me on to the shower chair.

As I was getting out of the shower, I again needed to use my left foot. I told my leg to put the foot on the ground and help me transfer to my wheelchair. I then watched as my leg tried repeatedly to obey my command, but each time my foot touched the ground it jerked up in the air. As I went through this little dance about five times, my right hand was sliding down the grab bar until it pinched my pinkie too badly and I had to let go.

This time I had to call for help, but Dad came and helped me into my chair. I shouldn't say helped; that seems to imply I was getting into the chair and Dad merely assisted. Dad deserves almost all the credit.

My left foot was dancing rather than helping Dad get me into my chair.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

you stood next to me in a dream last night.
JTG

Matt Trott said...

I had a dream last night, too. I was having an affair with Sela Ward, and we were at her home fooling around when her husband came in. Seeing me shirtless, though, he did not jump to any conclusions. He just offered me a shirt to wear while doing yardwork, which was the reason I was at Sela's house.

Really.

I am not sure what to feel worse about: that even in my dreams I don't get the girl. Or that I am a jerk home-wrecker to a naive spouse.

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