Never Batman

 I’ve reached an odd conclusion last week, at least for someone who wears a shirt that says, “ALWAYS BE YOURSELF!/UNLESS/YOU CAN BE/BATMAN/THEN/ALWAYS BE BATMAN.”

I don’t really want to be Batman. 

Bruce Wayne, however.

It’s not that he has more money than anyone or that he dates supermodels. For sure, those things don’t hurt.

But it’s Alfred that makes me want to be Bruce, or any butler.

On Wednesday, I let my sister sleep in and got up myself. It was so tiring.

I’ve said before how overrated independence is. Let me confirm. Give me dependence and just let me be rested.

I guess asked for this

When I applied for the scholarship for my standing wheelchair, one of the answers to the “why do you want a standing chair” question had to do with regularity.

I am pretty sure that my semi-regular irregularity has to do with sitting constantly. Surely, standing would help.

And it has, maybe too much.

Even when not constipated, standing runs the risk of cleaning me even more.

At least I know sitting is to blame.

Nephew awesomeness

On Wednesday, everyone was in bed  by 10 except my nephew, who was his late-night hockey practice.

“In bed” for me means I watch TV for a while from bed.

About 10:30, I had to use the lift to get to the bathroom —  no problem. Returning to bed was also fine.

Except I couldn’t get the covers back over my feet.

I didn’t want to call my sister again (yes, I have called her to cover my feet). 

I decided to text my nephew and ask him to stop by room. He said OK. 

In retrospect, I should have said why or something to explain that it was not an emergency.

When he came in, he looked around. I pointed at my feet and then said I needed him to cover them up.

He laughed and said he thought I had fallen or he’d need to clean something up.

He knows me well.

Despite his concerns, he still came to my aid

He is so cool.

I need to speed

 I like to keep my wheelchair turned on, even when I am not going somewhere.

This causes me trouble.

Not really because I accidentally hit it and careen somewhere dangerous, although that does happen on rare occasions.

No, the trouble is from a certain someone in my house yelling at me.

One problem with power wheelchairs is their inability to move if they aren’t turned non. They also take a second or two to start up.

If you have to get somewhere in a hurry, as I often do, those can be crucial seconds.

I did this already

 Just when I thought I was out...they pull me back in.
The Godfather: Part III

I have not worried about a fib for years.    

My cardiologist has suggested I see the surgeon who did my cardiac ablation to make sure my a fib isn’t returning. I demurred. 

I told him the surgeon saw me four times and did not suggest seeing him again.

I also said I didn’t want to see two cardiologists and needed him to follow my possible a fib.

He put me on a two-week heart monitor, which I started Tuesday.

Tuesday night I was up late watching a multipart arc of The Rookie when I felt weird.

I figured I was just tired but eventually took my ECG on my watch to confirm I was fine.

I was in fib.

I called my long-suffering sister. When she got to my room, she asked me to take it again.  

It was normal.

A little later, I was back in a fib.

The on-call cardiologist said it didn’t sound like anything imminent was gong to happen, so we just  called my doctor Wednesday.

Also Wednesday I noticed I forgot to take my heart pic Tuesday because I was fasting before some bloodwork. One of the RNs said that likely explains the a fib.

Apparently, nothing was at all imminent because I still haven’t heard from my doctor.

Slow

The chief reason I had the lift installed was so I could get to the toilet myself, and I can. It’s great.

I don’t have to wait for someone to help me transfer, use the lift or transfer me.

But I still have to get on the toilet before I have to go to the bathroom.

It takes me so long to get in the lift.

I’d rather be slow and on my own but still.