Wednesday, June 19, 2013

My sister has a rotten night

I have had worse nights than last night -- none springs to mind -- but I am sure they exist.

I woke up at 3 and did not have to go to the bathroom, but I thought to myself, well, I better use the urinal just in case. This seems to be code telling my bladder that it reallyreallyREALLY has to go.

I would have been fine, but I fumbled putting on my glasses. They fell on my chest. So I tried to use the urinal without seeing clearly. The first clue I missed was the warm rush in my hand. Then I felt it all over, including my chest where my useless glasses were. I managed to call my sister but also called Mom and Dad because I was being delicate with the phone since my hand was wet.

My sister helped me change and put towels all over my bed, then left. I lay there and cried after she left. What a horrid failure, I thought. But it got worse.

About 4:30, I woke up and decided to shower because the towels were no longer keeping me dry. I got to the bathroom, and my bladder did its reallyreallyREALLY thing again and I peed on the floor and my wheelchair cushion. I managed to get in my shower chair and thought I'd be able to go from there on my own. Right.

My glasses fell off again and I could not find them, so I found my sunglasses and put them on -- I had taken my clothes off for the shower so was wearing nothing but the shades. Then I listed off the wet wheelchair cushion. It quickly fell out of my hands into the shower stall, at which point I figured I better call my sister.

But I could not find my phone. I had to call her from the house phone, so I had to wheel over in my nakedness and sunglasses to that phone. Once again, she came and fixed everything. Then she asked if I wanted her to stay downstairs while I showered. No, I assured her.

I am an idiot.

I fell getting out of my shower chair and had to call her again. And again she came and helped with everything.

I am worried the whole Matt Trott experience is too much for her.

I told her this, and she said let's put you out on the street, see if someone picks you up.

I just hate all this.


Anonymous said...

I am crying in sadness for you but also in joy for the deepness of familial love. And now some needed dark humor, piss off to all those out there that complain about chicken shit. Love u mt and ejd.

Sharon C. said...

She's a mom, right? If she's anything like the moms I know, her heart and patience are deeper than you can imagine. She'd be more pained to know how awful you feel about it than she did about waking up.

We moms take on these jobs that everyone else thinks sucks and we see it as our calling and our way to bless the world. Sometimes its hard to accept help. Just let her help you and realize in letting her help you with grace and dignity, you're giving her something in return.

Some people are assholes about receiving help. My father in law was one of them. You don't yell at her, right? Then you're ahead of the game.

I'm coming to D.C. in September. Can I swing by and say hi?

Matt Trott said...

You are mostly right, Sharon, except she would not be pained if I didn't ask for help. She'd be pissed.She is a good one.

And I'd love to see you!

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