No falls

A few nights ago, I said to Mom while we we're walking with Claren that I hadn't fallen in a while. She responded by rapping me on the head and saying we needed to knock on wood. (She is so funny!)

I didn't count last weekend, when I was using my manual chair, and I went to transfer from chaise to chair and it moved and I slipped to the floor. Everyone had gone to bed, so I slid over to my bed and pulled the chair over, thinking I could use the pole to stand. I tried four or five times and I succeeded only in tiring me out. I finally called my little sister for help on the theory that the longer I waited the later it would be. UGH.

I also do not count today when I went to pull up my pants in the bathroom and slipped. Dad helped me that time.

A fall has to be violent to count.

It is kind of a wonder I haven't fallen recently, I thought this morning.

Every morning, I pull up boxers, then pants, which requires me to stand and hold onto a bar or pole with one hand and pull things up with the other. Every single day, a struggle.

Ugh

I told Mom Thursday night that it is no fun coming home to a quiet house as I have been doing because my sister and family went to Maine for Christmas.

The next day I set about proving how dangerous it is, too. (Why is everything getting dangerous? )

Every day I have been alone I have had to call Mom for help.

The first day I fell shutting the door. I learned that bathroom tile is harder than slate because I smacked my forehead on the mudroom floor, but it wasn't as bad as when I fell in the shower. Technically it is my fault because I did not fasten my seat belt, thinking I'd be in my chair just briefly.

The next day I called her from the bathroom floor. I had showered and dried off and all. As I transferred to my chair, my knee nicked a piece of the chair and spasmed. Down I went. I called Mom and said, I am fine but might be on the floor when you come up. She just put my slippers on and then I was able to stand OK.

Last night was the worst. I was about to get on my chaise, so I wanted to empty my bladder first. I got to the bathroom in time, but slipped and wound up crouched in front of the toilet. I tried to get back up but succeeded only in trapping my leg between the transfer pole and the wall. Oh, and my bladder decided to empty itself while I was on the floor.

The real trouble was my phone was on the table by my chaise. I did not want to get into my chair since I was unclean. So I backed my chair up, then laid out on the floor and pulled myself using the chair toward the phone. I also pushed with my legs. I finally got to my table and could not reach the phone, so I pulled the table over until the phone slid off. Then I called Mom and suggested she bring Dad because there was a lot to do.

I am pretty sure that left to my own devices, I could have recovered from all of these falls. I had shoes on or nearby. I was near poles or something I could use to stand. But ...

I am guessing I won't fall tonight, in part because Dad is over here watching TV. Not sure if he or Mom thought that up. Can't really blame them.

Man down

I knew the fall would be really bad, so I yelled "OH FUCK" as I was going down.

Depending on your point of view it was good or bad no one heard. Good that the little kids did not hear their uncle curse, bad because it meant no one was there to help.

I was showering before swimming and I had finished. my glasses fell, and I reached forward to grab them.

Bad move. I bent forward at the waist in my shower chair. I had my seat belt on, so my momentum took me down with the chair on top. On my way, I turned the water on, too.

The water ran down the drain red so I surmised pretty fast that yes, this was bad.

Unfortunately, I was stuck under my chair and belted to it.

I managed to get my legs out from under the chair, then I raised up on both hands like I was doing a pushup, and was able to undo my belt.

I turned off the water, which was no longer bloody, and managed to sit up.

I did not have a next move because my sister and her family were at hockey till 5, another two hours, and my phone was out in my room. I knew Mom would be over soon-ish, but that was too long to sit on the floor of the shower shivering.

At this point, my sister came in! The kids had events besides hockey so she left hockey with them early.

She called Mom and Dad, and they got me up, dressed and ice packed. My head wound wasn't too bad.

Now I just have to find an "I've fallen and I can't get up" thing to buy and try not to think about how I did not break my neck or anything real bad

At least no one heard me curse.

Let down

I tried, I really did. But my ankles failed me, time and again.

I was on the floor in the bathroom at work. I had slipped to the ground, was not hurt at all, had plenty of bars to grab. But I could not get up. Every time I pulled myself up, my ankles did not bend to keep my feet on the ground.

I tried so hard: My arms ached, my mouth was dry, my heart pounded. But I could not get up.

Finally, someone came in and I asked him to help me. He did.

Then I went back to work.

I tried so hard and I failed.

Nothing to see here

My friend and co-worker who uses a wheelchair was back at work today.

She stopped by to tell me that somebody had told her about my fall last week when she wasn't there.

As I told her, the fall was nothing, the real news is it took people at work a year to see me fall. You'll notice I didn't say "a year to fall at work." I have fallen before at work ... in the bathroom. So there.

No pee! But ...

Today was the first day this week that the urinator did not soil the toilet seat of the wheelchair toilet!

But the day also saw my first tumble onto the floor under my desk at work, into Claren's water bowl. So, I am not sure whether it was a good day, despite it pee-freeness.

I was getting ready to go to a meeting when I leaned forward to grab something on my desk.

I almost immediately realized my seat belt was not buckled. I don't know why. Maybe I forgot to do it when I left the bathroom although it seems unlikely. Maybe it just failed, which given the history of this POS wheelchair seems likely.

I did not have the strength or balance to lean back once I started leaning forward, so I let myself fall to my desk, hoping I could catch myself there. I managed to put my head on my desk but only for a few seconds. Then I fell to the floor and put my arm in Claren's water bowl.

I wasn't hurt and quickly moved to stand. A co-worker happened by at that point, and saw me.  I asked her to grab a co-worker to help me. She did. But she also told like everyone in the office. Another guy came to help. My boss came. An HR woman stopped by several times to make sure I was OK.

OK, yes. Humiliated, that, too.

Don't start

Have you ever really felt like crying -- maybe even started to tear up -- but were afraid that if you started, you would never stop?

It was not a great day, shall we say?

Shortly after I got to work, ants started dancing across the bottoms of my feet. OK, maybe they weren't real ants but my legs were still jumping all over the place in an effort to dislodge the ants. I took some Advil, which normally helps my restless legs, but it was about two hours before they settled down.

Then I was OK for a few hours, ignoring a normally hectic schedule.

I went to the bathroom at some point to find someone peed all over the toilet seat again. This is not unique to my workplace either. It happened at my last job, too. Apparently, adult guys choose to treat work restrooms with no respect. And how do you leave a note that doesn't sound snarky? I don't think it is possible because you are asking grown-ups not to behave like toddlers.

About 2, I got a phone call and backed up my chair to see the caption screen on the phone, and my keyboard tray snagged on my pants and pulled completely out. So it crashed to the floor, followed by my laptop. A co-worker tried to help, but she was telling me to leave everything, which was not helpful because I was holding my laptop, and I wasn't about to leave it hanging by the cords.

It was just so humiliating.

Finally, I decided I really can't go on our work retreat next week because it would require me to get up at like 5, and I can't do that.

So now you see why I might never stop crying.

Bromance forged in the bathroom

My sister and brother-in-law have two kids, so I am almost certain I am not the first naked member of my family he has seen. (I also was not totally naked: I had a shirt on and my pants were on just around my ankles.)

I am also certain that last night was still the most he has seen of me.

Finally, I am equally sure that neither of us were real happy that he had to pick me up off the floor of the bathroom and sit me on the toilet, which incidentally he did easily. He is a PX90-er.

Now I have disquieting thoughts in my head since the idea of my little sister having S-E-X is almost as creepy to me as my parents and S-E-X.

To cure that, I will just mention how amazing I am because I fall a lot but almost never get hurt.

I know I am not unique. My brother with Friedreich's ataxia has told me how good he is at falling.

I also know I am not invincible. My brother has been sporting a bandage on his nose this week since a fall gone wrong.

But still.

Last night, I stood up, lost my footing, fell, knocked into some storage bins, landed on my back on a tiled bathroom floor, and my first response was to laugh.

Because my brother-in-law was there to save me.

Slip-sliding away

Last week I went to Target for what is an all-too-regular trip to get my glasses straightened. 

While I was there, I also bought some shorts.

Shorts and pants that feel comfortable when I am sitting tend to slide down when I stand up. So I prefer shorts with elastic bands.

One of the pairs I bought was a pair of athletic shorts. They are made of quite slick material, so I slid a bit on my wheelchair seat. But nothing too bad ... until I went to bed.

It is a quick trip from bathroom to bed so I didn't have my seatbelt on. I bent over to pick up some Claritin that had fallen, and I slid right off the chair.

My head flew into my bed and knocked the mattress a foot off the mattress pad. My face then smacked into the mattress pad, then the floor.

I picked my face far enough off the floor to see if there was a pool of blood. There wasn't. I felt my face and only felt a little liquid, so the next step was getting up.

It was after 11, so I did not want to call Mom and Dad. My sister and family are on vacation.

Fortunately, my shorts allowed me to slide easily, which I did. I got to the pole near my bed, wheeled my chair close to me, then stood up using the pole and got in my chair.

I then went and  checked my face in a mirror. My nose was cut and still hurts a bit.

Luckily, though, I did not mess up my glasses.

Matty's March Mayhem

I asked my sister to prepare a few things for me for tonight when no one else would be around.

I was pleasantly surprised when recounting them to her, I realized they were T-U-V.

I asked her to put the Keurig near the edge of the counter so I could make tea. I wanted my urinal near my chaise to prevent any urgency issues. And I needed my pill holder filled with vitamins.

When I got home, I remembered something else I should have requested, and I was really mad because it was a W. I wanted my window opened.

I felt the window was pretty important because it was warm today and I had to wheel home from the subway. Mom and Dad were away, too.

It is also important to consider that I may have been feeling a mite cocky. I didn't just wheel home; I wheeled home over the really steep hill that I really shouldn't have gone up. I wheeled backward most of the way up, which made me feel safe balance-wise, but driving backward up a hill without a rear-view mirror is a little sketchy.

But  I am sick to death of accommodating my Friedreich's ataxia, which may explain the evening's exercise.

I really wanted a window open.

Two of the windows in my room are casement windows, which crank. Only one is reachable. When we planned the room, my sister told me the two windows on the end would be casement. It wasn't till after they were in that I realized the two on the end meant the two on the width of the bump-out of my room. I thought it meant the two on the end of the length. Oh well.

I reached for the casement window. The crank was there on the sill but not attached. All I managed to do was knock over Goat Boy from Where the Wild Things Are.

Then I turned my sights to a regular window. I could get it, I told myself. So I moved Claren's bed and managed to unlock the window. But try as I might I could not budge it.

My pants were falling down from the repeated standing by this point, so I left off and went back to the casement window. I saw where the crank needed to go so I tried to sit down and access it. That failed, and I managed   to drag my boxer shorts down, too.

That was the last straw because my wheelchair has some sharpish bits that do not feel good on my delicate tushy.

I got back in my chair, pulled my pants up and went outside to see if I saw a neighbor. Kids often play in our yard and parents are usually nearby. Alas, no luck. Everyone must have been at the Falls Church School's March Mayhem event. It is a basketball game, even though mayhem is really not an appropriate synonym for madness.

I even considered posting on Faccebook "Anyone want to come over and open a window?" But I couldn't decide what would make me feel worse: No response, people who live far away saying they'd do it if ..., or if someone really came over and opened my window.

Instead, I headed back in and took another look at the window locks I undid. I was sure it was open, so I again convinced myself I could open it. Bad call.

As I was bending up after putting up my foot plate, I banged my head on the sill. I cursed God then. Loudly. I stood then but could still not budge the window. And this time I fell.

I was fine but getting off the floor is never easy. I finally made it to my chair and gave up. Now, I was really hot, but I just went and had dinner outside.

Foreshadowing a fall

In my defense, the phone would not have helped at all.

My sister came into my room last night at 9:30 to take Claren and tell me she was going to bed.

She saw my phone on my bed and asked if I wanted it. I said no.

I had moved my chair away from my chaise so I could see the recovering Claren. My sister asked if I could get in my chair so far away. I assured I'd move it.

You probably think you know what happened next, but wait ... The foreshadowing is not complete.

I sit on the edge of my chaise -- at first so Claren could sit with me, then when she decided she preferred the bed, so I could keep my laptop and stuff on the chaise.

Finally, my allergies are acting up.

Now, you can guess.

I sneezed, and flipped off the chaise. My head was resting on a shelf I keep next to the chaise. My arms were pretty useless to help me recover because they were keeping me from falling more.

And the whole time I was chuckling, as in "boy, are you screwed" and "thank goodness, I am not hurt."

My sister came rushing in because I made so much noise. That made me laugh harder because I knew she'd think I tried to get to my chair without moving it. Also, I wanted her to know I was OK.

She got me back in my chair and everything was fine. She told me she knew this was going to happen. But this was a unique fall she could not have expected.

I mean even with all the foreshadowing, did you guess what happened?

Too strong for my own good

The alarm went off this morning, and I rolled out of bed.

When my butt felt thin air, I realized I had rolled too far.

My hands were on my stripper pole, so I did not really fall, just sat down on the floor.

I pulled myself up standing twice, but it was like, now what? My feet were sliding this way and that so my legs couldn't support me. Even though I was upright, I could not get back into bed or into my chair.

Fortunately, my phone was right there and I called my sister.

She came and put my shoes on and helped me up. If I had even thought of putting on my shoes, I would not have had to call her. The shoes were easily accessible. Why didn't I think of it? What a waste.

And it stuck with me all day.

When I woke up at 11:15, I didn't want to get up and maybe fall again. I finally did, but it took all of my positive thinking. I didn't do anything all day, not even swimming.

Not that it helped. I still feel crummy.

Up too early

On weekends, I get up at 6:15 to feed Claren and am back in bed by 6:25 and asleep by 6:26.

Usually.

Yesterday, I got up and was getting Claren her pill when I dropped the pill bottle. Only about 10 pills fell out, so even though my fine motor skills are next to zero, I picked them up. I didn't want to wake anyone up ... I could do this. It would just take a while.

I got them picked up, but all the bending made me have to use the bathroom. I did, no problem, but somehow when I was reaching to flush I slipped.

Thankfully I wasn't hurt and there are so many bars in my bathroom, I knew I'd be OK. But I also knew I should probably get some help since it was me on the floor, not just some pills.

Unfortunately, my phone was not in my chair because it was being recharged. I had Claren bark a few times, but my door was closed and we were in the bathroom.

When no one came, I looked  around and saw I was sitting on my slippers. I got them on and pulled myself up.

I got back to bed at 6:50, right as my brother-in-law checked in on me.

I was not asleep by 6:51, though. I was too mad to sleep ... at least until 6:53.

Death goes empty-handed

Because I could not stop for Death, He kindly stopped for me.

Twice this evening actually. But because I am not very comfortable with people I don't know, I sent him on his way alone.

He first visited my room in the new house. I was getting up from my chaise to enjoy the Valentine's dinner of breakfast. I put my feet carefully on the floor and then tipped forward. My head hit the floor with what I thought was a ear-splitting crack.

Claren was disturbed. She kept walking around and over to me then to the door then back.

I figured I better call for my sister to let her know I was alive after the huge crash. All I wanted to do was hold my head and roll around in the fetal position for a while. But I didn't. I was OK; my brain just got a little sloshed.

After my brother-in-law got me back to my chair, I enjoyed the breakfast dinner and decided to take Claren for a walk. I was on my own for the walk because Mom was out.

Claren has a favorite spot to poop, near a light and a driveway so I can get into the grass easily and pick it up.

Unfortunately, the favored spot is right in front of the light pole where the ground is sloped and it is far enough away from the curb that I have to go into the grass to get it.

Every time I have to get it, I say to Claren, "If I die, it is your fault." Normally, I am fine; tonight, though, my tires got stuck after I had picked things up.

I was not stuck; my chair often does not back up but goes forward fine. So that's what I had to do, but that meant going between the light pole and the curb -- which is not a whole lot wider than my chair -- and on a slope.

That would be when death made his second appearance of the night.

Again, he was turned away empty-handed. I put my chair in a slow setting and carefully yet easily rounded the light pole.

What next?

One fall is not the same as the others

I fall fairly regularly, and while I rarely get hurt, I never know how a fall will affect me.

I fell this morning. Claren was only too happy to speak for help -- since it meant she'd get fed earlier. And my sister came down and helped me up readily.

I was fine -- no injuries, no unwanted pee, no problems. But why then has the fall stuck in my head and left me feeling so sad?

Stander pole: Awesome if you like playing Russian roulette

Dancing with death is never a good way to start the day. Your whole day is tainted.

I did not actually nearly die.

I was holding on to the locking curved grab bar that is on the pole by my bed to transfer. I was just getting to my chair when the lock gave out and I flew into the back of my chair.

What is most disturbing about the incident is that the folks who make the Stander pole are so blase about it.

We called to figure out, you know, WTF, and both times they just gave instructions to reset the locks. It worked but for how long? And who's to say next time I won't fall onto the floor and sue their asses? It has happened before.

Also, it was apparently Opposite Day at Stander. The people said clockwise when it should have been countercockwise and vice versa.

The shit of the real world

I have read testimonials from people who say Bruce Springsteen kept them from killing themselves.

I can't say this has happened to me -- never having been that close to suicide -- but it makes sense.

One of the reasons I like Springsteen so much is that he is steeped in reality. The people in his songs -- with a few signifiant exceptions like Born to Run -- don't talk about escape. They are more about finding a way to survive the hard parts of life so they can live the joyous ones.

There's Night, where after-hours keeps the singer alive. "Hell all day they're busting you up on the outside; But tonight you're gonna break on through to the inside."

Out on the Street is the same theme. Friends and fun make work survivable. "All day you've been working that hard line; now tonight you're gonna have a good time."

In Badlands he sings about "Workin' in the fields till you get your back burned," but then asserts, "We'll keep pushin' till it's understood and these badlands start treating us good."

And you know you're not alone in struggling.

Surviving in the real world is a theme that runs throughout his music, and I love him for it.

All that said, today I wanted nothing more than Tracy Chapman's Fast Car to carry me away from my life.

I fell when I was getting on the toilet. Not badly. I actually didn't touch the ground except my feet, but I missed the toilet.

The problem was I was sitting down hurriedly because I had to go to the bathroom urgently, and when I missed and struggled I did on the floor. And no, it wasn't that kind of urgency. What came out on the floor was the real gross kind. Oh shit! That's right.

I knew I needed help so I shouted for my sister. She came in and immediately called for her husband to help with the lifting. We got me up and she cleaned the floor.

Neither should have to deal with my shit. I can and do, but they should not have to.

I am not sure what else to do.

I don't have a driver's license, let alone a fast car so even though it was really cold and gloomy, I went for a slow ride on my handcycle, trying to figure out how to survive in this real world.

No days without an accident

I must be getting comfortable in the new house: Last night I sat on the couch to watch Glee and Reservoir Dogs and this morning I did something stupid and fell.

Our floors are wood -- ash if you are wondering. Every morning I put on my shoes tightly so I don't slide getting out of bed.

But this morning, I didn't tighten the laces and one of my shoes fell off while I was still in bed. No problem, I thought, I'll just grab it again.

Then the part of me that is trying to get me killed spoke up.

You can easily get out of bed, dude, it said. It used "dude" to put me at easy and make me think it was cool.

It then reminded me that the transfers in the bathroom on the no-slip tile are going smoothly. What could happen on the wood floors?

Turns out that ash is really, freaking slippery. I eventually got off the floor by putting my other shoe back on.

To make matters worse, this was the first morning my sister did not get up to oversee my feeding of Claren.

In other news:

• We did move into the new house, hence my silence. Tired, no Internet, then Glee and Reservoir Dogs are my excuses. The house is a work in progress but awesome.
• You know what really pisses me off, besides bloggers with life-threatening conditions who stop writing with no word of warnings? Gentlemen who urinate standing up in the wheelchair stall but do not feel the need to either raise the seat or clean their pee off the seat. Special place in hell, guys.
• Speaking of special places in hell, I got to my subway stop and got to the elevator as seven walkers packed in. One woman, bless her heart, got off for me. The other jackasses just squeezed a bit to make a tiny bit of room for me. Assholes!
• And finally, a woman came running out of a restaurant as Claren and I walked to the subway and was like, Can I take a picture of your dog? 

Not with a bang but a whimper

Without any fanfare or official declarations, my legs have launched a full-scale war against my eyewear.

I mentioned the first engagement before, how my foot slipped and my face hit a grab bar at full speed. My glasses were the main casualty if you ignore the assault on my dignity. (Just look at the other post.)

Fortunately, my ally Target Optical came through for me. I had bought the extended warranty, and sure enough they just replaced the glasses, no problem. And I emerged victorious.

Last night was round 2.

I have been having trouble getting into bed many nights. I stand OK, but I am unable to pivot to the bed and often I fall. Not badly, I am holding a grab bar. My knees just buckle, then I usually manage to rise up and into bed.

This is made slightly less irritating because I will soon be in a lower bed and will be able to approach from a better angle.

But that did not matter last night. I stood, fell, tried to rise and did -- only to fall face-first on the grab bar, breaking my glasses again.

Once again Target Optical had my back, but we decided that I might want new frames since both pairs had broken in the same spot. It is still covered by the extended warranty, but because it is a new frame, they have to order it. I'll be wearing my old glasses for a week or so until the new ones come in.

That probably qualifies Round 2 as a draw.

An exciting, but gross, fall

I haven't written about falling recently. Not, of course, because I haven't fallen. Friedreich's ataxia and all. Mostly, I just got bored writing: I fell and I got up again blah blah blah.

But today was a new one. I fell while going to the bathroom.

Before I left work at quitting time, I stopped by the restroom to make sure my bladder, which does not care about whether it is full or not, was not going to be a problem on the subway ride home.

I stood up before the toilet, started going, then just tipped over more or less in midstream.

I fell on Claren, but my clothes took most of the spray that did not stop just because I fell. One of my shoes got scuffed up, but I was OK and managed to pull myself back into my chair. I was able to hide the damp clothes by creative tucking and then I headed to the subway.

I long for boring falls.

P.S.: But I still exercised..