Not my blood

Should I stay till you are done?

No, Mom, I'll be fine.

Of course, I wasn't fine. I was transferring back to my chair from the toilet and my foot got stuck. i made the transfer OK, then tried to pull my foot free. Instead, I pulled myself off my chair. 

I tried getting up, but my feet kept sliding. I decided that help would make it easier, so I called Mom to tell her I was a liar who did need help.

When she came up, I was lying on the floor, and when I saw her face, I laughed, I was fine, I told her. I had just lid down because my feet kept sliding.

She held my feet, and I got on the toilet fine. I then had to wait while Mom bandaged up her arm that got cut helping me.

I made Mom bleed! I am definitely going to hell.

I was fine after that, and Mom claims her arm is fine. I know I am doomed, though.

I see my future: No more AMC Theatres for captioning

I got out early on Thursday, so I forced myself to go see X-Men: Days of Future Past.

I say "forced" not because I didn't want to see it -- and it was awesome, though one sister might start crying if she sees it. But when the alternative is going home and taking a nap, I have to force myself to do anything. Plus, I had to ride three subway stops to get to the theater.

I was sure I'd wind up not going, so I didn't ask anyone to join me.

But I did it!

It was, as I said, great, and I find it quite interesting to see what the screen writers choose to use from the comic and what they ignore.

After seeing it, though, I decided I am not going to AMC Theatres again.  It's Regal Cinemas for me.

AMC does have captions. That is wonderful. But the caption device sits atop a gooseneck support that fits in the drink holder. You adjust it so you can see the captions and the movie.

I don't have a drink holder, so I have to use the one on the movie seat next to me. This means the gooseneck isn't really tall enough for me in the wheelchair. I wind up reading the captions, then looking at the screen and vice versa.

At Regal, you get the awesome caption glasses. You can be a wheelchair user who uses captions.

Another why

Every Saturday morning, I read Gene Weingarten's Sunday column in the Washington Post Magazine.

Yes, I read it early. Sue me.

Tomorrow's column claims insecurity is good for columnists. As an example, he points that after he won a Pulitzer, he worries because the award-winning story included the phrase "history of prior neglect."

Granted, that is a silly phrase, but you want insecurity, allow me.

Some friends brought their new baby over and were like, we really want her to know her Uncle Matt.

Awesome, I said. What I  was thinking was, Why?

Accommodating myself

My little sister and her family left on vacation today, so I am going to talk about her.

She gets visibly frustrated with me because I do not demand more reasonable accommodations, like today.

We had training on evac chairs we'll use in our new building.  I did not really want to be transferred to a stair chair and slid down steps, especially not at 8 in the morning.  But training is no good if people don't know what it is really like to transfer someone who can't help.

 I decided to get up an hour earlier than normal to eat breakfast at home so I'd have plenty of time to evacuate my innards before I trained to evacuate the building.

This annoyed my sister. She thought that I should have said, "I'll train, but at a later time." She thinks I don't request accommodations because I am trying to prove my toughness.

I wish it were that.

Really, it just doesn't occur to me. With today's training, I saw a clear solution and that was getting up early. I didn't really want to, but there is no real reason not to. Other than being tired, there were no bad effects.

If I can accommodate myself, why ask others to do it?

I knew this would happen

Claren has not had a does of oral steroids in years. Her itching has always responded to less-drastic measures.

But I got a course of steroids today because nothing is really working. She opens up new cuts on herself daily.

When I got home from the vet, it occurred to me: She really is dying. I'd never agree to -- and the vet would not suggest -- something that might make her feel better but might hurt her eventually.

But now, let's just make her comfortable for however long is left... which is why my shower chair is sticking out into my room. Because she is also wearing a big old cone, I needed to give her extra room to get to the shower -- her new sleeping place.