I do not get out of the house as often as I would like for a variety of reasons - the weather (too hot/too cold, storming), the massive amount of energy required to get presentable and then wheel around some where (my arms are growing weaker damn it!), not feeling well, and the lack of a real purpose to go somewhere. Last week I was initiated into the true wheelchair user's club when I encountered yet another reason for not leaving the house. I was all prepared to go, had my shopping list programmed into my cell phone (what? I am more likely to lose a piece of paper than my cell phone! especially because I paid for the cell phone!), wrestled shoes on over my contorted feet (no botox this round so everything is tight as tight can be), and even managed to do something with my massive mess of hair (I am growing it out to donate and that is the only reason I have not taken scissors to it yet - it is much to thick and curly and snarly to grow long ever again). Then I sat down in my wheelchair and I was going nowhere fast. Okay, so I tend to go nowhere fast on a regular basis, but this time I had a reason. The left wheel was as flat as could be. It had been a long time since the air was checked and added to the tires and a few weeks since I had last gotten out of the house (I know, I am pathetic!). I think the bumping down the flights of stairs at the GI appointment encouraged some air to escape faster than my normal escapes from curbs and bumps. So I was stuck and like the awesome planner I am, I do not have an air pump/compressor. After some phone calls and cursing of Nessarose (the wheelchair), it was decided that the next day my brother would take my mom and the two wheels to the gas station to get air put in them. Thank God my wheels come on and off of the chair! I can only imagine what it looked like to see two people each holding just a fancy wheel walking out of the apartment complex or standing around the air compressor at the gas station. Someone probably thought that they forgot part of the bike when they stole it! The good news is that I am now back up to full pressures in both tires and it is holding steady (I check daily because I am paranoid). And for my birthday I am going to harass my dad for an air compressor. Cause nothing says loving like the gift of hot air!!
June 23, 2011 at 2:22 AM
Donating your hair?I think,if at all possible, Zoey and I just fell in love with you even more!
Sorry about the wheels... is this what we are in store for,Curse words might just fly.
Wish we could "tool" around with you one day.What a gift that would be to us.Your words of wisdom,each time you visit,a gift as well.
June 24, 2011 at 7:15 AM
I know, I know, the hot air I provide is not compressible nor transportable to a usable function like rolling you around. Perhaps it is best my hot air (words) just float off into cyberspace.
Glad you are back on rolling air again! Despite the hassle, I can speak for the old days of no pneumatic tires on wheelchairs - now that was a time of isolation for persons who used a wheelchair full time.
Barbara
June 25, 2011 at 6:28 AM
You are an inspiration to me because I know how heard it is to be wheelchair bound my name is Nisha and I am 20-year-old from South Africa who has CP and altough it's harf for me to wheel myself around I practise and I refuse to get an automatic wheelchair because God damn it I KNOW i can get along without one.
PS. in case your wondering Barbara gave me a lonk to your blog
Post a Comment