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.


Comments

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

A Hole in My Heart Where Sandy Should Be

The past two days have passed with little joy and I find that I'm restless and cannot focus. I don't like being home because of the thousand reminders of my sweet Sandy and yet I can't be away because I don't feel like engaging in anything other than my own personal sorrow. Yes, she was 'just a dog' but oh what a dog she was. . . I learned a lot about loyalty and unconditional love from Sandy. And in that, I believe that God gives us these loving dogs so that we can learn a little about His love for us - that unconditional love. Even on my worst day when I might not have been paying much attention to Sandy, she was still there and still loving. Wow. There is no doubt in my mind that putting her down and out of her misery was the right thing for Sandy - she must have been so riddled with cancer and in such pain. Her last day she couldn't even keep water down; I imagine that her entire body must have been affected by the cancer. Then I think back to her last d...

Rolling, Rolling, Rolling

I put my pride aside and got my ass off the grass and into the wheelchair. {I spent a couple minutes deciding whether to put an exclamation mark after that declaration or to put the period after that statement. I think the period better suits my mood about getting said ass into the wheelchair!} On July 4, Saugatuck has a wonderfully unique parade that includes quirky participants like the artsy-fartsy campers at OxBow art colony and the LGBT members of a local foundation along with the more traditional participants like Girl Scouts, fire trucks, and local politicians. It had been a couple years since I had been to the parade, this year, though, my Mom and sister were in town and I wanted to take them. So we loaded up in the van, including Kerri's wheelchair and my own. Once we parked, John asked if I wanted to use my chair and I initially balked but then remembered that it can be a long, hot parade and it might be better to have a place to sit. So, I acquiesced and took the cha...

Ch ... Ch ... Chemo

I was ready. I was prepared. The potential side-effect list was long and one I'd had some familiarity when John went through his treatment.  So I gathered my arsenal. I had my compazine, zofran and antivan. I had my ginger chewables and chicken noodle soup. I was armed and potentially dangerous. So, chemo day with the toxic chemo cocktail starting to do it's job, I envisioned it as either PacMan, eating away at the cancer cells or a Chia Pet, allowing my good cells to thrive. With these visions, (that aren't quite Christmas Eve sugar plums dancing) and tired from the chemo, I went to bed early. Friday, under the watchful eye of my caregiving hubby, I slept most of the day away. Not really hungry but not nauseous either. I spent the majority of the day horizontal on the couch listening to my book on Audible (despite the sleep timer, I probably missed 1/3 of what I 'read'), dozing, answering calls and texts, and snacking.  Perhaps the highlight of the ...