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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 ...

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...

Don't cry for me ...

Song lyrics or titles run through my mind to often sum up a situation or add humor to one. Today, it's "Don't Cry for Me Argentina". Only today the title is "Don't cry for me anybody"! I mean, I get it, that people feel bad that I've got breast cancer and that I've been living with MS for nearly 27 years. And I've had other issues that I've blogged about related to #metoo. I get that it seems like a lot looking in from the outside. I hear your comments and appreciate your support. But here's the thing, it doesn't feel overwhelming to me, looking out from the inside. Know what I mean? I live the life that I've been dealt and do it with the personality and faith I've been given. Which means, I could do one of the following: A. Have a miserable, pity-me attitude that would lead to being  miserable; B. Lean into my troubles and seek answers constantly either through research or angrily with God, which would lea...

Christmas cards

I sat down to reluctantly address Christmas cards. While our list has slowly dwindled through the years it's still a sizeable number, especially when it's viewed as a task approached reluctantly . Know what I mean? Some Christmas 'tasks' are a lot less taskier - like decorating or shopping or eating or opening presents. I mean, there's a whole different level of enthusiasm associated with 'tasks' that aren't viewed as tasks - I can't ever remember a time when I sat down to reluctantly open a present or eat a Christmas cookie! Anyway, I approached the Christmas card addressing with a less-than-positive, more bah-humbugish attitude. I poured a cup of coffee, grabbed the markers (I had to have a green, a red and a black one), the list and of course the envelopes (which John had already stuffed with the card). I turned on some Christmas music, but not too loud or it would distract me (and it really doesn't take much to distract me. Squirrel!),...