Bad options

I fell in the bathroom at work Friday, and Mom is trying to convince me that I should start using a urinal of some type so I don't fall. I am not so sure.

Transferring is how my legs get most of their exercise these days. Also, if I stop transferring, what happens when I need to? I'll be really out of shape, and that will cause trouble.

I find thoughts like these almost constantly twirling through my mind. Which of two bad options is less bad? Is it any wonder I am tired?

IDTMTAM, thank goodness

When I was younger, my older siblings would use IDTMTAM in a derogatory sense.

"IDTMTAM; It doesn't take much to amuse me," they'd snarkily say when I was legitimately amused by something awesome.

I am still easily amused. I was washing my hands at work the other day, and for some reason I started thinking about how my nephew sometimes writes that we're out of poop on the grocery list. I just started laughing out loud.

And I am glad. It would be a dreary existence if I didn't.

Thor is a god

The following could be considered a spoiler if:

1. You read comics and care about the identity of the female Thor,
2. but you are almost two months behind in your reading, so you haven't read the Thor issue with the reveal;
3. you also managed to avoid the stories about the reveal not only on the usual websites but also in the New York Times and other newspapers.

If this is you, consider yourself warned.

The first comic book that I remember as mine (my brother will no doubt remember differently) is an issue of Thor when Loki brings a human news crew to Asgard to film Ragnorak.

I haven't really followed Thor much since then, so I never found out Loki's plan or how Thor overcame it. But I guess he did. He's still around after all.

Except he is no longer Thor. Apparently he was no longer worthy.

And the person who is Thor is a woman.

You found out last issue, which I randomly picked up, that she is Jane, Thor's onetime girlfriend and current cancer patient. And what she says about being Thor reminded me of why I said I was a Good Friday Catholic.

If you click on the page it gets bigger, but Jane says is: "We  need a god who understands what it's like to be humbled. To be mortal. A god who knows how precious life is. How delicate. a god who struggles every day to live a worthy life. Who suffers so that no one else will have to. A god who loves the earth enough to die for it."

Big-G God does all that, too, but people still hate, hurt, kill, get sick ...

Maybe I need to worship Thor.

Wow

For some reason, I have always gotten along well with the custodial staffs where I work, but the janitor at our new building stands out.

Today he was on his way out of the bathroom when I was heading in.

He held the door for me, followed me into the bathroom, opened the stall door and then shut it when I was in. Then he left, but as I went to the sink,  I saw he was still helping me: He had pulled out three paper towels for me.

Let me be clear: NO FALLING

I like to consider my posts requests/suggestions/prayers to God, Thor, my guardian angel, the X-Men, Leetah, and all the saints with whom I share a name, a sense of humor (Lawrence) or blood (as yet uncanonized).

Apparently, there was some confusion with last night's post about falling, and I'd like to set the record straight.

When I wrote that I didn't like falling and needing help, that did not mean that falling but not needing help is cool. NO FALLING!

That means no repeats of today. I transferred back to my chair OK and leaned back so I could settle back into my chair. Instead, I did not lean back straight. My back hit the left side extension, which sent me jerking forward and out of my chair. My head ricocheted off the toilet seat. My glasses went skittering under a wheel of my chair. BUT, I landed on my knees and can usually get up from my knees myself.

I stood up, sat down, leaned back carefully, put my seatbelt on, reached my glasses, went out, made sure I didn't have a huge bruise and sent back to work.

The whole thing almost smells of St. "I'm done on this side" Lawrence, but I hope he isn't that mean.

My pride goeth after the fall

Pride has no place on the gray tile floor of the bathroom at work.

So when someone, seeing my feet sticking out from under the stall, asks if I need help, I say sure. It doesn't matter if I am sure I'd make it back into my chair myself. Eventually, I would, but it would take a while.

The sure is said cheerily, of course, but cheer is usually the last thing on my mind.

• I am sad I can't stand up myself. I am really pissed I can't even transfer from a toilet to my chair without falling.
• I am embarrassed that some co-worker has to help me when my pants are done. Thankfully, I usually have my boxers pulled up. And I am more embarrassed that this has become such a part of my life that I am not really embarrassed.
• I am thankful for their help and sorry for them that they have to do this.
• I am annoyed sometimes that some people have "not seen me."
• I am sick that this is happening with more frequency (twice in two weeks, and I teleworked three days last week).
• I am mad as I sit on the floor willing my legs not to flop over or my feet not to slide. It never works -- the willing, I mean. I am not surprised, just mad that I need help in this most-basic thing. I also run through why I fell -- did I try to pull up my pants instead of just sitting on my chair in my boxers, did a leg buckle, which one? Whatever happened usually irks me because it is often my fault. And, of course, I have to hide this anguish, which is further annoying.

I am a tempest in a wheelchair. No wonder I am always tired.

One thought

Not to criticize the president's eulogy of Beau Biden, but he said:

To suffer such faceless, seemingly random cruelty ... can make you beg for a lighter burden.But if you’re strong enough, it can also make you ask God for broader shoulders; shoulders broad enough to bear not only your own burdens, but the burdens of others; shoulders broad enough to shield those who need shelter the most.

I'd, however, like to propose a third option: Those of us who beg for a lighter burden daily who'd use the freed-up shoulders to "shield those who need shelter the most."

Just saying.

I think I am pretty broad-shouldered, broad enough to help others even.

But outside family and a few friends, I am rarely asked to shoulder anything that isn't related to my "random cruelty."   

Back to mouthpieces

I need a shave.

I am trying to decide if I should start wearing my new dental appliance tonight.

I got it yesterday from the sleep people as a mask alternative. It starts in the neutral position, but then you ratchet your lower jaw forward. It is supposed to open your airway when you sleep, so no more sleep apnea.

I remember how sore my mouth would be after I turned the expanders I had. I wonder if this will be as bad.

You wear the device at night, then pop in the "AM Aligner" when you get up to put your lower jaw back where it should be.

It sounds like I am asking for mouth pain.

I am also leery of messing with the shape and alignment of my teeth. Years in braces, expanders, bionators and retainers paid off, and gave me good teeth. If this screws that up ...

Oh well, got to try.

Sleeping soundly still a pipe dream

Apparently, startling 11 times an hour is hardly sleep apnea. It sounds awful, but five times is normal and 50 is serious This from my appointment today with the sleep doctor.

My breathing is not bad, which is good; my restless legs, what he called limb movement, are not so good. Even though I think the medicine is working, he wants to double it to try to allow me to sleep better. I am going to email the neurologist about that.

I am also going back to try a dental appliance to help the modest apnea. It costs a fair bit and is only occasionally insured. Ugh.

I was hoping I might fix my breathing and that would end my need for naps. Won't be that easy, but when is anything?