Larry, Moe and Matty

I thought I was trying out for a Three Stooges remake Sunday night with one key exception: I doubt either Moe or Larry felt like collapsing in tears (Curly — maybe. Moe could be so mean).

I got my lift Sunday, so Mom was using it to help me into and out of the shower.

All went well till it was time to get in bed. The lift does not fit under the bed, and bed transfers are usually OK, so I just got into bed the normal way.

I planned to anyway. What happened instead was I missed the mattress when I sat down and slid to the floor.

We can do this, Mom said, so we got out the lift and got me back in my chair. I then tried again.

It happened again!

Again, we got out the lift and got me back in my chair.

At this point, I noticed the mattress was pushed back, so while I was plopping down in the right place, the mattress wasn't there.

We moved the mattress, and on this, the third try, I succeded.

Just call me Neville

My physical therapist said I need to exercise 20 minutes a day, 5-7 days a week. I normally do about 45 minutes three times a week, but I have engaged my niece to help me a few days a week to get to five.

Or if she is unavailable, I have exercises I can do myself.

That was my plan today until I dropped the urinal.

By the time I got help, it was too late.

After Mom helped me change and cleaned things up, I mentioned how “defeating” something like that is. I was thinking about how there was no way I was exercising.

She agreed, “how can it not?” But she said I have to deal with it as best as I can.

I said that’s the thing: I can't defeat this; it’s like I have to make a truce with FA.

She agreed and said it was better than being defeated.

But isn't that what Neville Chamberlain thought?

Not with a bang but a whimper

The Streak ended Saturday with a totally preventable and wimpy fall. The bang came on Monday.

On Saturday, Mom was helping me get dressed, but needed to leave for a wedding. Of course, I told her, I can pull my pants up. She left; I fell.

I wasn't hurt, just annoyed.

I wasn't hurt Monday either, though I did my best.

In three transfers over two hours, I fell. requiring my sister and brother-in-law to rescue me.

I am a jerk

When Cal Ripken was nearing Lou Gehrig’s record for consecutive gamey e was hurting the Orioles by playing every day.

My Streak critics aren't saying I am hurting the team (the family) but I can relate to the jerk comment.

At first, I thought it was just a “Haterz gonna hate” thing. It was my sister after all; she is always harassing on me. (But she is still the best little sister ever.)

Her main criticism is that if I can manage not to fall when they are away, there is no excuse to fall when they are home. She says that when she and my brother-in-law are home, I just let myself fall because I know they are there.

It’s not that simple, of course. I probably do take more risks knowing they are around, but they are calculated risks. The calculations just don't work out sometimes.

Anyway, my physical therapist asked about my falls, and I was bragging about the Streak. She was like, be extra careful all the time, you jerk.

OK, she didn't call me a jerk — she’s too nice.

I guess I need to apologize to my sister. Cal wasn't a jerk, though.

12 and 0

I know we are supposed to be impressed with Stephen Strasburg, the Nationals pitcher who is 12-0, but I have what I consider an even more awesome feat.

My little family, as Mom calls my sister's family, returned home today after a vacation of 12 days, and I didn't fall once.

More or less.

I slipped some but never went down.

Now if someone would pay me Strasburg money for my streak.

Dirty ears

Contrary to popular belief, the Q-Tip box doesn't say don’t use in the ear. It says don't stick in the ear canal, just gently clean at the entrance of the ear.

And to be fair, that’s all I was doing few days ago.

Until I slipped, that is.

Then all bets were off. I felt a little pain as I jabbed something in my right ear, but nothing serious and I forgot about it.

But today at my hearing appointment, my doctor went off hunting a better ear scope, then showed me the blood inside my ear.

She wasn't worried, just said don't do that and leave out my hearing aid to let it heal.

I’m a bit easier to worry. I want to throw up, mainly because there is yet another thing I can no longer do because of FA.

Awesome disease

As school ended for the summer, my niece brought home thank-you notes from her class for my FA talk to them. Her teacher had forgotten to mail them to me.

They mostly made me laugh. They often called me Mr. Matt and referred to Fame’s tricks. But I don’t think I quite got across the horror of Friedreich’s ataxia, which they all spelled right. they often said my speech was fun or awesome.

My niece’s made me want to cry, though.

She told me how I “kicked butt,” and how lucky she is to be related to me.

Yes!

Lift me up

I don’t see how this is easier, Mom asked the lift salesman who came to the house last weekend.

Easier? he responded, looking confused. No, it’ll be safer.

And that, I guess, is the thing these days.

Nothing that is safer is easier or faster or less expensive.

And it will be expensive, and not easily covered by insurance.

The plan is to get a portable lift and mostly just do what I do now. The lift will be for if I fall, then Mom or even the kids could help me.

It was the same lift salesman as before, but this time the lift did hold me securely.

Given the involvement of insurance, I don’t expect one soon.