I could've had an iPhone

As I left for work today, I told Mom that I'd have a breakdown if I only had the time.

I was frustrated by the time it takes me to get ready in the morning. Yesterday it took me 10 minutes to get out of bed. This morning I am not real sure what caused my delay. It's not like I fell.

I saved that for the bathroom at work.

I went to the bathroom today and found a toilet seat cover still resting on the toilet. That annoyed me. As did the little dusting of talcum powder under the toilet. (I assume it was talc; I suppose it could have been cocaine.)

As annoyed as I was, I didn't have any choice because this was the accessible bathroom. So I pushed the cover into the toilet, as some loser was too lazy to do, sat down and took care of business.

When I stood up, I noticed that the talcum powder had made the tiled floor even more slick. I got my shorts and long johns up and made it to my chair, but when I tried to pull up my jeans, I slid to the floor. I was not hurt at all, but I could not get up: My feet kept sliding.

Finally, I decided to call for help. I did call the main office line and got a friend, but then someone walked into the bathroom. I hung up thinking this newcomer would help me.

Now, this is kind of weird. I am not sure what happened. I was peeking out of the stall and he saw me. We said hi, and I asked him to help me. I thought he said, OK, just a minute. I leaned back and waited. I heard the toilet flush, the water turn on and then I looked out to see the door open and the guy leave. I am sure he thought I was fine, but why would someone sit on the floor of a bathroom?

After he left, I dug out my phone again and called for help. Two friends came. One blocked my feet. One pulled me up. They saw my jeans were down still so they said they'd stop back to make sure I made it out. I did. Thanks, John and Steve (no, not my cousins of the same name).

Then I went and put in a request to get the floor cleaned. It was. Next time I went in, there was no talcum powder, but there was an iPhone in the wheelchair stall.

On the way to turn it in to the office managers, I asked a friend what the Finders' Keepers policy is on smart-phones left in wheelchair stalls by someone not in a wheelchair. Perhaps my friend was colored by past conversations with me, but she said that it was clear the owner of the iPhone had broken all the rules of human society. One of the office managers said the person had clearly meant it as a present for me and just forgot the bow.

I love the people I work with.

Wake the neighbors!

I went climbing last night, but I'll wait to write about it till I get the photos. I will just tell you it was awesome and Claren carried my cellphone because the new chair does not yet have a good bag.

When I was in the shower this morning, I said to myself: Make sure you get your phone, you awesome dude you." But, of course, I forgot, so I found myself with Claren outside without a phone.

This would have been fine except somebody -- not me -- caught the alluring scent of poop and wandered behind the garage to check it out. I hurried back there to get her away from it, got there just in time to see her eat the lat of it and got stuck in the uneven ground back there.

Mom and Dad were out. I had not seen my sister or brother-in-law. I yelled at Claren to lie down, picked up ball and put it in my bag, and began to figure out my next steps.

I used my feet to push the chair backward but not quite far enough. Still stuck.

At this point Claren decided it was time to play again so she started barking at me, telling me to give her the damn ball.

The neighbor of the new house heard and poked his head out to ask if I needed help.

I told him I was stuck so he came out and got me free.

As he headed back to his house, he pet Claren and said, you did your job. He meant calling for help. I had to break it to him that it was her fault I got stuck.

It's a wheelchair, not a bra

I have never purchased a bra.. Never been in a Victoria's Secret.

I do seem to go to the Victoria's Secret website occasionally. Last week I went their to see whether the photo I was using was of one of their stores. It was, I am sure, but I could not prove it. The time before that I needed some caption info on the jewel-ecrusted bra Adrianna Lima was wearing. Sometimes my job is hard.

When I got my new wheelchair yesterday, I started thinking bra.

It needed some tweaks before it felt comfortable and when it finally did fit right, it was with some fancy wheels that said "the Natural-Fit." on the rims.

Apparently, that is the name of this wheel handrim system that covers the part of the wheel where you put your thumb. The thumb just slides along this groove. It is very cool, but the name still reminds me of bras.

It is a very plain chair and very light. There is so little of it, compared to my old manual. The website assures me it is cool, too. It is just like my brother's, although unlike the clothes horse of the family, I did not get the clothes protectors.

Between the TiLite and a shower chair I bought earlier, I have spent way more money than I have. I still don't know what the final cost to me will be because insurance doesn't get called in till I take delivery.

I may need Adrianna to hock her bra for me.

Claren is 9 today; how did I survive without her?

I have really only given one speech for Canine Companions for Independence, the first one. Ever since, I have just modified that one.

I am not embarrassed by this. It was a good speech. Puppy raisers afterward told me how good it was. Mom and Dad were there. A friend came. I even recently met a woman who told me the speech helped sell her on service dogs.

What does surprise me is how spot-on the speech was. Not to brag or anything.

I said that I loved Claren, but not really for the help she offers, even though it's a lot of help. And I demonstrated some of her commands, which have grown and improved. Last night, I dropped the remote and the battery cover popped off. Claren got off the couch when asked, went and got the battery cover, then the remote.

No, I said, I loved her because she is with me and a perfect partner. I never go through anything alone. She is there, sitting on me, pawing me, whatever.

I may never know why she is too cool to play catch with me or why she refuses to lie on the couch facing me -- I always get the butt --but I never knew what I was missing.

The Speech

Hi, my name is Matt Trott and Claren and I have been together about 2 ½ years.

I have a genetic disorder called Freidriech’s ataxia. It steals your balance and coordination, among other things. So I began using a wheelchair full time about seven years ago.

I can hardly put into words how much Claren has meant to me.

She will pick up anything I drop (DROP SOMETHING). Well, almost anything. She got a little too excited and bit through the last credit card she tried to pick up. She tugs drawers and doors open. She will get me a bottle of water from my fridge and go to a back room and turn on a light switch.

It is not always easy, but I can do most of the things Claren does. What I could not replace, though, is her companionship.

I live alone, and anyone who has lived alone knows that having someone else around is a huge blessing, even if that someone is a dog. For someone in a wheelchair, multiply that by a thousand. She is with me always. I know that if I fall or something bad happens, she will be there. That gives me untold amounts of strength and confidence.

I was reorganizing my computer stuff one day and was sitting on the floor under my computer desk. There were CDs and cords and boxes and junk all in front of the desk — not to mention my wheelchair. Well, my head was wiggling the top drawer and it came off its track and fell on me. It didn’t really hurt but it startled and angered me. While my mom helped get the drawer and its contents off me, Claren came and laid down next to me, really on me, because there was no room elsewhere. She was on CDs, too, probably not too comfy, but she did it. She seemed to just be saying, “I’m here. We’ll get through this.”

She doesn’t answer me, but she listens. She keeps me from becoming too self-involved, from worrying too much, from being too depressed. I can’t do any of this anymore because of Claren. And largely because of her, I don’t want to.

Reboot in the spring

I am entering week 3 of not having a comic book subscription.

I dropped my subscriptions at one store because it was getting too hard to get out there regularly. I planned on starting the subscriptions up at a store in Falls Church, but I haven't.

It isn't that I am bored by comics, although when I do restart my subscriptions, Daredevil won't be there. The Shadowland stories were just lame.

How many times can I blame cold and dark for keeping me inactive?