W is for me--a wimpy woman in a wheelchair.
I was paralized at age 19. After brain surgeries, recovery came slowly, but finally, I reached the Wheelchair stage. I was also moved to a rehab hospital at that point. I cheerfully put in my hours of PT [physical therapy] calling it Physical Torture because it was! But I could get around by myself in my wheelchair. [Very good for chariot races in the hallway.] Then the quad cane--a funny looking cane that goes down to a base with four--"quad"--feet. Then just 10 days after getting the chair, I graduated to the straight cane. [Great for swordplay in the hallways.] I held te record in speed going from wheelchair to straight cane. I really hated the wheelchair. As I was a left hemi [paralized on the left side of my body] I had to roll with my right hand and steer with my right foot. Yuk! I swore I'd NEVER use a wheelchair again!
However...most hospitals share the policy of taking their discharging patients to the door in a wheelchair--like after having a baby, etc. Well each time [and they were all different hospitals] I was able to talk the nurses into letting me walk--but the chair had to follow alongside. At least I was not IN it.
The years ticked by--and I was able to avoid using a wheelchair on other hospital stays as well. Then I was struck down with sciatica. This is a glorified "pinched nerve". Extremely painful. Because of the plethora of health conditions I have, it took extra long to diagnose the problem, so it got bigger and bigger until I was living on cortisone shots received at the huge hospital where I had to walk a long ways, and really could not walk. I caved, I folded, I used the chair. Then as I recovered--no more wheelchairs for me.
Time continued to roll on, and I had other problems which often leave me confused in crowds or unfamiliar places--like strange airports. Add long walking distances when changing planes. Add the fact that I once dropped my familys' tickets on the floor at the airport [I'm thinking it was O'Hare!!] and while they were quickly located, panic mode had set in.
So now when I fly--especially by myself, I ask for and gratefully use the wheelchair. So there you will see me--a Wimpy Woman being pushed along in a Wheelchair. I still don't like it, but am ever so grateful to be able to receive such a service.
7 comments:
Wow - I don't think you are wimpy - rather heroic! :-D
I am so making fun of you when I see you in an airport.
Thank you goofyj--and tchica, I've no doubt of it!
I think you're more wimpy for NOT using the wheel chair when you could have!! :)
I don't blame you for not wanting to be pushed in a wheelchair, after I had Chloe, they tried to make me get in one to go to the nursery to see her, I rode one time, hated it and pushed it myself after that.
I'm glad you're willing to use the wheelchair in airports. It will make the destination more pleasant if you're not exhausted, panic-stricken, or injured during the journey. You have to take care of yourself! As for your comment about "recovery came slowly" -- I'm sure it felt that way from your perspective, but the doctors always said that your recovery was immensely faster than they could have predicted. If memory serves, they told Mom and Dad that you wouldn't be able to leave the hospital, even for a minute, 'til the end of the year, and we took you out to dinner on Thanksgiving. And you were home before Christmas. I always thought your determination to survive, to recover, and to have a normal life was heroic. Me? I'd have caved. Completely.
Thanks, Marisa. I didn't know that about not going out "til year's end. Wow! I did know that I was released early for Christmas to free up a bed because Christmas always brought so many accidents.
Post a Comment