I am not proud of myself

This weekend I was going to have dinner Friday with some friends and try Georgetown Cupcake. Saturday I was going to lunch with another friend. And I would cap it all off by swimming today.

Here is what I actually did: sat on the family room couch, watched a little TV (but none today as I lost the remote), napped a lot, fell further in love with Thursday Next and ... well, that's about it. Oh, I let Claren play in her kiddie pool. And most importantly, I sprayed myself with water to survive the heat in our un-air-conditioned house.

Yes, I am kind of a loser.

I blame the heat, which just hammered me. I was getting over a little 12-hour bug and I felt fine but my body is only now getting back to normal. And the bug bout was Tuesday.

But for the record, I'd still rather be hot than cold.

A nice little breeze

It has been really hot the past few days, and that always reminds me of Granddaddy McCauley.

I don't really remember him at all, and I never know if the images of him that I hold in my heart are from my memories or from some mix of photos, slides and memories of other people. I think it more likely is the mixture because I was just 7 when he died.

I was at just the wrong age to know him: a little older and I might remember him, a little younger and I might have gotten a chance to stay with him a lot when others were at school. This is how my little sister remembers him.

I can almost see him in a chaize lounge outside in long pants, even on the hot days, and hear him saying that the weather was not so bad, there was a nice little breeze. I am certain Granddaddy did not have Mom's voice, but I have heard her talk about him so much that he does in my mind.

Darned if he wasn't right, too. Any time I am outdoors, if I can find some shade, a little breeze comes along to revive me.

The Nats lost

My sister-in-law asked me if I was going to call today an adventure with my brother and sister-in-law. When I told her no, she wondered if I would call it a misadventure.
No, again, I told her. Today deserved a four-letter designation.

We went by subway to the Nationals baseball game at the new park. It is lovely, but apparently three people in wheelchairs cannot sit together unless there are two people with them using normal seats. At the park, there are plenty of spots for two chairs and one chair, but not three, at least not together.

So my brother and sister-in-law sat in two wheelchair spots, then there was an empty seat, then a post, then me and Dad in a regular seat.

At least the seats were under cover because it was hot and sunny. We were spared the sun but it was still so hot my sitting region felt like it was drowning in sweat. And of course, I can't get out of the pool.

The Nats are a bad team, too, which is OK. But the announcer tells the fans to stand and honor the flag, and it is the same as at Mass. I feel like shouting back: "Don't you think I'd like to, jackass?" At least at a ballgame, they might not hear me; at church everyone would.

Also, I left Claren home, on purpose. Stupid.

The trip home was almost entirely a cornucopia of crap, a broken wheelchair here, a wrong turn there, to top it off: a broken elevator at our destination stop.

Dad went up, got the car and met me at the stop near home. My brother and sister-in-law rode one more stop and went back to get to the original destination to get a working elevator on the other side.

The trip was saved by a cute gal waving at me when I was waiting for the elevator at my final stop. I finally realized it was a friend from work. Not to blow off my relatives, seeing non-related friends always energizes me. Imagine if she had come to the game with me.

What's subtle?

A wheelchair is about as subtle as a 732 pound naked man trying to dance Swan Lake.

I guess this is why I ordered the candy-apple red wheelchair. I had a drab green one before, and it is not like anyone overlooked my chair. So the new one is kind of my "what up, mother---ers."

I don't know if that is better than being drab, but I do miss being subtle.

The other night I saw someone walking a dog and I started to cross the street, because that is where the trash can is, not to keep Claren away from another dog. In the middle of the street, I saw it was a person who likes Claren and who I like to chat with. Of course, though, I can't simply turn around. No, I made a big circle in the street -- thankfully no cars were coming -- to talk to her.

Or today, I was leaving work at the same time as a friend. I would have liked to say "I'll walk out with you" or something, but she was going the other way and we both were talking to our bosses. And it is just damn near impossible to maneuver a wheelchair so you can catch a friend without it becoming some grand, show-stopping act.

Other quick hits from a crappy day:

• I asked the wheelchair vendor about these two problems with the new chair. Overall, it is nice. My boss said that as a former hot rodder, he liked the colors. But the power switch turns on by accident quite easily. I'll turn it off and then stand up to transfer. Often my leg will brush the side of the controller and turn it on. Or I'll be changing clothes and a sock will brush the switch and turn it on. I haven't hit the joystick after turning it on, but I fear it is just a matter of time. I ran into this problem at dinner last night and at work today with the new chair. The controller won't fit under my table, desk or keyboard tray. I can lift it out of the way but then I lose the support and stability the arm provides. It is causing me to lean more into the lateral suport, too, causing discomfort, so I swung that away and lost that support.

• Also, one should not use it without the foot rest being down. I tried to just go to the bathroom from the living room, but I got stuck in the hall with my poor right foot at odd angles under the front wheel.

• My night sweats seem to be confused by the switch to daylight saving time. I fell asleep after work and woke up for dinner but had to go change clothes because one could have wrung out my shirts.

• It now needs to be a 30-minute rule. I brought my dinner over on my rolling tray and sat down to watch "The Simpsons." A dinner roll fell and despite all my looking I could not find it till I got up and saw it on the floor in front of Claren's toolbox. I did eat it.

iBots and babes

The biggest disappointment today: I won't be getting an iBot.

Insurance is not down with iBots, I suspect. I told the wheelchair vendor who came to my condo for an in-home assessment that I wanted a chair that raised and lowered me. I did not mention an iBot specifically.

He told me about a chair that raises you five inches, but insurance deems that medically unnecessary so it won't pay for it. I guess then the iBot is out of the question. We instead concentrated on finding problems with my current chair to persuade my insurer to buy a new one not just repair this one. So the iBot will remain a dream.

Also remaining a dream: My hope to have my aqua therapy led by a lusty brunette in a dimly lit pool with sultry jazz wafting overhead.

Instead it was led by Greg, a nice guy whose first words to me were: "BC? Uh-oh." I was wearing my Boston College sweatshirt and he turns out to be a Villanova alumnus. We were cool after I said I didn't go to BC, and after getting over my original disappointment the session was good.

It is a small pool, mostly 4 feet deep, and really warm, 92 degrees. He got me in with a chair lift and I just stayed in that chair and did a few leg lifts, knee and ankle bends, and some simple trunk exercises. He said the hot water generally takes a lot out of people so he wanted to go easy on me today. His plans, though, include me standing in the pool and walking up and down submerged stairs.

The thing I am unsure of is the long-term benefit. I will go to therapy for a month, and it will help. But when the month is up, what then? I imagine I'll find out.

In the meantime I will go to bed. I am not really tired yet, well no more so than usual for a day without a nap and four hours of work from home. But I can dream of iBots and lusty brunettes.

I really do like it hot

I said something to mom today that I immediately wished I Could take back. On the ride home, I said: "I like the warm weather, but this is a little crazy."

I said this because it is Oct. 9 and the temperature is above 90.

This heat would be awesome actually ... if I could wear shorts to work. As it is, I get home and am hot but changing is a pain. I miss my pants with zipper legs.

Some like it hot, and some are just lazy

On my ride home from work, the car thermometer said 98 degrees. It was pretty warm.

I came home and put on a T-shirt. I considered putting on shorts, especially because you get a little sweaty down there sitting all the time, but it is so much trouble.

I have to take off my shoes. That's easy; they're slip-ons. My socks are killer to take off. Claren can help but it still not easy. But I may use a wheelchair and be a bit of a dork, but no way am I wearing dress shoes and shorts. My pants aren't bad, either. Then I have to put on the shorts, new shoes, maybe socks. It takes like 15 minutes and wears me out.

I don't turn on the air conditioning because I am not a central air fan, too enclosed, but also because natural gas costs about a million bucks.

So I melt. Maybe this is how I keep my boyish figure.