Stupid disabled person

One might think that I would be empathetic to people running late for the para-transit bus. I know all too well the many dangerous delays that await people with disabilities. For example, falling into your basket of dirty laundry, dropping the soap and spending what seems like an hour fishing around for it behind your shower chair, spending an eternity getting the water not too hot or cold.

One might think I'd be empathetic, but one would be wrong. I get up earlier enough that such delays don't make me late.

So when I have to spend 10 minutes (really 25 but we were early) waiting for another client only to have him cancel, I want nothing else than to curse, suggest someone perform an anatomic impossibility or something else equally mean-spirited. Especially after the night I had yesterday.

All day yesterday, I had felt kind of blah. Mom said it was the weather because she felt the same. Of course, after three bites of dinner (pizza for my nephew's birthday), all the food in Mom's body did not decide ithadtogetoutnow. Not that it is a contest.

I was fine afterward; the screwed-up muscles aren't limited to the ones in my legs. They are in my little tummy as well. But I didn't want dinner or the Spider-Man cake for dessert.

When I got home, I figured I'd just brush Claren, take my pills, watch the Simpsons and go to bed. Hahaha.

First, my pills weren't near my chair so I planned to get them later. I brushed Claren and watched the Simpsons, at which point my bladder decided it really had to empty itself. I got in my chair as fast as I could, pretty fast, although one shoe came off. Anyway I hurried to the back without the shoe.

To make a long story shorter and a little less gross, I did not make it entirely. I had to shed my clothes, so I was standing in the bathroom bottomless. I put a towel on my chair and wheeled out to get a change of clothes. I got them but could not get them all the way up because I was wearing just socks and they could get no traction on the rug. I then decided to switch wheelchairs -- why I thought this would work I don't know -- but it didn't. My feet kept sliding and could not support me so I wound up on the floor, with my pants around my knees, and Claren curled up in front of me (where she always goes when I fall). Finally, I got in my power chair, although the seat cushion got wedged behind my back. I had to wheel over to my stripper pole to stand up, push the cushion down and sit back down.

Then I had to go take my pills, take Claren out and go to bed. And given the digestive issues I had earlier, by then I was so hungry.

And I was really hungry this morning, when I had to sit and wait for a turkey who canceled.