Falling

I hate falling in front of people. Falling by myself is not that great either, but I just hurt myself.

When I fall in front of my mom, she curses. This might not sound like that big a deal, but I am not sure I have ever heard her say anything harder than damn outside of disability discussions, which sometimes follow falls.

I tend to laugh off falls in front of my little sister. Her kids make this possible: her almost 3-year-old son who offered to help me up yesterday and his 4-year-old sister who cracks up whenever I choke at dinner. (I hope this is just because she is nervous about me, and doesn't really know what to do.)

Falling in front of strangers is awful. The first such incident I remember was morning rush hour in a crowded subway station. I backed off the subway car because the cars are higher than the platform, and not for the last time, my anti-tip wheels failed. I fell out of the subway car as my chair fell over backward on to the really hard subway platform. Somehow, I did not get hurt at all and I scrambled back into my chair with lots of helping hands and got the heck out of Dodge.

The worst, though, is falling in front of Dad. He always helps me. But Dad is an only child, and he dreams of being in control. Six kids mostly cured him of that. and this disease very clearly takes from him any last semblance he has of being in control.

Plus, falling hurts.