Pick Up and Go
I'm so frustrated with the logistics of getting around. That's the difficult part of a progressing condition, especially as it nears going into a chair or beginning stages of one. A affects B, B affects C and everything thereafter. Any little change in a situation changes the entire plan.
I had an old pair of e-motion wheels loaned to me. These are sensor activated motors in the hub of wheels that assist my propulsions. My arms and hands are two weak to push a manual chair.
Last week I was able to successfully get out of my apartment door, into the elevator, out the lobby door, into the disabled lift, down it, rolled myself down the steep ramp and onto the curb all because of the wheels. All by myself. It was nice. I felt like independent hot stuff
But, today they aren't working so I had to have a neighbor come let me out. I have physical therapy from 6-8pm for the next few weeks so I scheduled my Access (paratransit service) to pick me up at 4:40 pm.
On a typical ride to my weekly therapy it can range from a 1.5-2.5 hr trip due to shared ride policy. However, today, Access got me to my therapy in 20 minutes.
So, here I wait an hour early, usually an hour late, in the lobby unable to push myself around because one of the motors are broken. The wheels are really old, so I guess it was going to happen. Crap thing is I've been waiting for these loaner wheels for months so I could gain some independence. I finally get them and then they die right away.
Oh well, heightened independence was great while it lasted. This is how it is for everything, every minuscule chore. It's not just this situation I find frustrating, it's the entire package. It's grains of rice that lead to the entire harvest.
Frustrated. I despise the loss of freedom, the incapability to pick up and go. It's really something wonderful to have this privilege. I despise depending on others to accomplish the most minute task.
I know I'm supposed to try and friend you, but the truth is, I hate you HIBM. My only desire to is to pick up and leave you and yet you hang around tightening your grip on me. At times I feel jipped. I did everything "right", so what happened? Unbeknownst to me, you were always lurking there, you waited, and then suddenly you hit me at the most productive years of my young life. You jipped me. You have shocked me for the rest of my life.
This is a recent response. I didn't used to feel this way. I've not a, "Why me?" person, because why anyone? Perspective tells me I'm ridiculous but the "moment" tells me to feel this way. You can have clarity and yet at the same time the sensitivity of a moment can be so great that you can't see beyond your own soaking eyes that reflect some obscure amber version.
Emotions, humility and feelings work that way, I suppose. They do not obey.