There is humor in every struggle. Sometimes, I wished I had a camera on me. I feel like some of the moments are too good not to share. Even though it may bring about frustration or momentary despair the positions I get into when doing the simplest of tasks is both cockamamy and befuddling.
Like just now. I was walking over to my wheelchair so I could wheel myself to the curb to wait for my ride. As I let go over my walker to lower myself into the chair I was gripping onto the kitchen table for dear life. I somehow missed and only an 1/8" of my butt caught the seat. I'm not sure how this is possible since I have a huge bottom.
Nevertheless, my heart stopped, my defunct legs stretched out and with my back slowly giving out on me, my neck was having a hard time holding my neck up.
"Lovely ceiling", I thought.
I could feel myself slipping out of the chair, "Shit, I don't want to miss my ride to physical therapy", I thought as my limp body laid there holding on for dear life.
"I only have one shot. If I mess up then I'm on the ground and there is no way I can get back up."
Usually I have to get creative and use every piece of my body and brain to push myself up. My movements are merely millimeters but all contribute to the grand success. My legs are dead and I can't even move them to help give rise to 1/8" butt covered surface to say a 1/2". I do my very non-sexy grunt and groan. By this point I'm just plain upset that I have to be in this situation.
But seconds count as loud as any siren.
I don't know how I get out of these situations but once I do, nothing smells as sweet as that victory. So, size doesn't matter. It's relative. It's small, yet big and afterwards I celebrate alone.
Sometimes, too happy to stop and be upset about it
Sometimes, with a couple tears.
Sometimes, it's with laughter or humor.
Sometimes, Suntory time??
Even though it's hard, you never know yourself better or have more of an intimate moment with yourself than in the stillness of a struggle surrounded by tumultuous placidity.
And now, I'm on my way out to catch my bus to physical therapy.