"Hey, I really haven't gotten worse in the past several years. Maybe this is as bad as the fucking Friedreich's ataxia (ef FA) is going to get. I can live like this. It won't be easy, and I sure don't envy me, but I can do it."
Then, a night like last night happens, and the reality makes me cry.
I fell transferring to my chair after The Big Bang Theory. It wasn't a bad fall. but even with the help of Mom and her gait belt I could not get up in the chair.
Even with the belt, which is a plastic belt that goes around my chest and makes it easier to left someone, Mom is still 71.
It's not a surprise we had trouble, then. I refuse to make Mom struggle, and my muscles just won't freaking do what I ask. My feet kept sliding on the floor, my legs could not push my butt high enough to reach the chair, my arms couldn't pull it up.
We finally succeeded, and Mom pointed out many reasons -- it is a short couch and high chair, a slippery floor -- that that fall was not a reliable gauge of my ability.
It doesn't really matter. This was not one of those good days.
3 comments:
did mom tell you I am posting the sleeper couch on craigslist and freecycle? Then bringing over the loveseat?
I love you
xo
ejd
That just takes away a convenient excuse.
new super pole in the family room?
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