And For a Moment I Forgot
Labels:
Coping,
Friends and family,
Journey,
Joy,
Life,
Moments,
progressive spastic paraparesis and paralysis,
Wheelchair
I have adjusted to using a wheelchair, but there are few moments when it does not register to me as something foreign or imposed upon me. While I appreciate greatly the mobility it offers me, I still have so many fresh and often stinging memories of my independent mobility and my love for being in motion on my own. It does not yet feel like a natural part of me, but rather still like a somewhat awkward contraption of metal and vinyl. Today was different. For a few moments I completely forgot that this was not natural, that this was not how my body has always moved, and I felt free and joyful in motion. We had a family lunch today at a nearby restaurant, but we arrived about 10 minutes too early, as our reservations were for just when the restaurant opened. So I was hanging out in my chair in the parking lot with my family, and as I started wheeling towards the more sheltered area of the building to escape the wind (I had decided to wear a skirt - bad planning), I noticed my wheelchair was acting weird. It was almost skipping when I pushed it. Finally I realized my Dad was walking behind me and stepping on my wheel every time I pushed. Without a thought I spun around and began to chase him around the parking lot. I was racing, I was turning, I was weaving in and out of obstacles and laughing hysterically. He tried to escape by darting between my stepmom's truck and a post, thinking I would not make it through, but I navigated without any problems and almost caught up. Then the wind kicked up when I was facing the wrong direction and my skirt flew up into my face. Good news: I had on thick purple tights so nothing was revealed. Bad news:I had on thick purple tights and my skirt flew up in my face. I could not stop laughing and neither could he. Finally I surrendered and spun on my wheels, tossing my tangled mess of windblown curls with as much attitude as I could muster with my laughter and promising revenge. I swear running over his foot when we went into the restaurant WAS an accident, just a happy coincidental accident. But as I chased him and we laughed in the fall wind, I forgot that the wheelchair was foreign to me, I forgot to hate the fact that I "should" be running, I forgot to long for the free movement I used to know and reveled in the freedom and movement that I captured in my chair. I forgot that I am different, that I am dealing with more medical issues that JAMA, that in just one short year my life has radically changed and I lost myself in the sheer joy of the moment. What used to be did not matter and what may happen was not a worry, and for a moment I forgot it all.
October 5, 2009 at 9:11 PM
gotta love a Dad like that...I am so glad you had some moments that felt like
"almost normal"
I know you are not happy about the chair and your use of it-- but I am glad that you got to have joy in the moment!
October 5, 2009 at 11:35 PM
That kind of adaptation represents the wonderful power of a (healthy) brain.
Barbara
October 7, 2009 at 9:59 PM
Heard about your blog from Barbara at Therextras. A close friend of mine, mother of three young children, who also has found herself unexpectedly in a wheelchair is frequently seen playing tag or chase down her steep driveway. She is a mad woman in it. After reading your post, I can also guess it gives her a sense of freedom. I love the picture on your blog and your saying. So true!
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