Skip to main content

Rockin' and Rollin', Mostly Rollin'

Emerson Marie and me. Taken last week at Chrissy Field in the Golden Gate Park

I've written in the past about my travails with this damned MS - mostly about falling in very public places and trying to overcome the embarrassment of landing in full view of many and at awkward moments. I've written about trying to overcome my concern of 'what others think' and probably vowed a gazillion times to move on valiantly with my life with MS. I wrote about being 'too sexy for my cane' and then having to reluctantly move on using a walker for my primary mode of transportation. Well, today, I am without my cane and my walkers sit in storage! Not because I'm too sexy or I've gotten stronger and can now do marathons (even it I could, I wouldn't! I've never understood running unless it was running to a party or away from my past. I mean you're running, often in public, and getting all sweaty and parts are jiggling for all to see and I have knock knees so I'm sure I'm a comedy skit for someone who witnessed my previous attempts. And it makes you pregnant - but that's another story!). 

Sorry for that digression - but running in public should probably be a future essay.

I no longer use the cane or walker because I've moved on to a wheelchair. After three falls while using one of the previously mentioned, now gathering dust, walkers - I'm now four-wheeling. Like my previous transitions, however, I didn't move on gracefully and this one is probably the most difficult. Well, not probably, but definitely the most difficult. 

I knew it was coming. It was a struggle to walk. There was a time last summer when I was at Meijer (for those of you unfamiliar with this store, it's a clean, Midwestern version of a sprawling Walmart superstore where you can get your salmon and bait, lingerie and hunting gear - you get the picture.) and walking to the check out. I was bone tired and ready to get to the car so I could sit down. I must have been quite the picture, because the manager was walking towards me and then looked back to see lines in the other check out lanes. He immediately went to the open lane next to him and said he'd take care of me here. I then had first class assistance to my car, loading my groceries. At the time,though, I just thought it was great service because it was a new location but in hindsight I realized because I must have been seriously dragging holding on to the cart for dear life. I was often so tired after shopping, that I didn't have the energy or ability to unload the groceries once I got home.

One of the falls using the walker actually occurred after a Meijier trip (pun intended). I was trying to bring some of the loot from my car in the garage into the house on my walker, when I twisted my right ankle (the foot that had healed from a break in May) and couldn't stand. So I made a couple trips, crawling, from where the groceries were spilled in the garage into the house. I left the rest in the car. I sat on the floor and cried - partially from pain but mostly from recognition that I just couldn't do it anymore. And I prayed for clarity and discernment - asking God if I should be trying to still trying to walk. When I looked up, the first thing I saw was the wheelchair I had been using when I'd broken my foot. I'd say that was a pretty clear answer to prayer.

Funny thing about prayer - God always listens to our prayers and He answers our prayers but not always in the way we want or when we want. I had been praying prior to incident in the garage, but I'd been asking God to give me the strength to keep walking. I kept falling, then even when using the walker. This time, I prayed for His answer to what I should be doing - and the answer was the wheelchair in the corner. 
So, I'm rolling. 

When we had our recent trip to California (more on this next), we were having drinks at the Top of the Mark with a group from the conference John was attending. My conference buddy, Andrea Darr (she will be another essay!) asked me to dance. The band was playing disco (I love disco because there is no better music to dance to!) and Motown (the second best music to dance to!) and I hesitated for a second or maybe a nano-second before rolling onto the dance floor. Here's a funny thing when dancing while wheeling, you become a center of attention. (Kerri, I'm sure you could have told me this!) The lead singer in the band, came out to dance a bit with me and fellow dancers surrounded me - one man tried to spin me but I kind of freaked about my chair moving and stopped the spin! I wanted to get up and dance, so desperately I longed to get on my feet and do the hustle or bust a move, but I knew God had me in the chair and in the chair I would stay. Dancing the night away - well not really because John and I were still on Eastern time and left the party about 45 minutes later.

So, I'm still rockin' and rollin'. But mostly rolling.


Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

It's not a popularity contest, but ...

Ten Year

When I was in junior high school, I staged a sit-in and learned about 'ten year'. This will come as a total surprise to most of you readers - I was not a perfectly well behaved child. I know, I know - you're shocked, amazed, in wonder how I could have turned out to be so well-behaved despite the oats sown in my youth.  And the sit-in is a perfect example of how I marched to the beat of my own drummer. Miss Brown was an English teacher - and not a very popular one. She would invoke the yardstick on wayward student's hands and scowl the moment we walked into the classroom. We weren't very kind to Miss Brown but then she wasn't very kind to us, either. Personally, the hardest part of having Miss Brown as an English teacher is that she nearly ruined my love of my favorite topic in school. It was the year we were to learn grammar (have I ever mentioned that as a writer I detest grammar?). I think some new way of teaching English was introduced and in all l...
5 comments
Read more

Blubbering Idiot

While doing crunches this morning, I turned on the TV to keep my mind off the exercise I was about to do and the movie "Gran Torino" was playing. It was nearly 3/4 of the way done. Perfect, I thought, I can watch the end of one of my newest favorite movies. Fifteen minutes later, I'm a puddle of tears on the floor. The end of that movie dissolves me to tears every time - and I think I've seen it now about six or seven times. When Clint Eastwood's character goes about his last day - including a lame confession with the priest - locking 'Toad' in the basement, I begin to get weepy. SCENE SPOILER ALERT ! But when he is shot down and is splayed as though crucified on the cross, I become a blubbering idiot. So much softness and sacrifice in one so tough and gruff - it highlights the intensity of his sacrifice for his new family next door. I only need watch the last few minutes of "Gran Torino" to get the full emotional effect. The same can be said...
4 comments
Read more

Hair today gone tomorrow

Before you all begin to think I’m breezing completely through chemo, let me remind you of this:   For the most part I am bald. Or if not completely bald, fuzzy headed, and not in the way I think or am thinking, but in the appearance. A little like a hedgehog or a porcupine with bald patches. On Super Bowl Sunday while most of you were overeating or filling out those little squares to wager on the upcoming game, John and I were having a unique pre-game party. In front of our bathroom mirror with clippers and scissors. Preparing for the certainty of hair loss from my chemo, I decided to buzz my locks to lessen the shock and mess of of losing large chunks of my silver, shoulder-length hair. It was in all honesty one of the most poignant moments in our 30+  year marriage. I had originally asked my friend and former stylist if she could do it . But when I shared my plan with John, he said that he wanted to do it. Certainly that was not expected. So instead of watching th...
5 comments
Read more