Autumn is not here yet, and the leaves are hardly turning, so I had no reason to shout “Timber” as I hit the ground. Well, the floor of the bathroom – and my head and shoulders hit the shower.
Getting to the toilet is never easy, especially at night – or in this case at 7 a.m. in the morning, when it involves two wheelchair transfers. Multiple sclerosis drives me crazy. My body cramps up in bed, so I need to push, roll, and force my un-cooperative legs onto the floor. Then I have to push myself up off the bed and, using the bedside cupboard for extra support, swing into my wheelchair without falling. Stage One complete.
But then I need to reach the toilet before my bladder gives up on me – and it has a couple of times. And I need to do this without my legs going into a spasm, which makes it hard to turn the wheelchair through the bathroom door. The transfer onto the toilet relies on me getting the chair near enough to the grab bars on either side of the toilet. And then I have to swing myself across = Stage Two.
Except at 7 a.m. I failed to make it onto the toilet. I crashed to the ground lie a tree and screamed something. Fortunately, Juanita, my wife, woke up – as did the dogs – and tried to help the rigid body jammed between the shower and the radiator.
At least there were no canine surprises on the ground, and my bladder didn’t decide that this was the moment to use the floor.
However, we had major problems getting me up off the ground. Juanita tried helping, but at first she only strained her back and stomach. I only had the strength to struggle onto my knees with her help. But then getting up further proved impossible – until she manoeuvred a commode for me to climb onto.
Yes, a commode. Provided by the NHS back when it was impossible to get the wheelchair beside the bed. It had proved to have one major drawback though – it was a tight fit getting my personal bits inserted. Enough said. Move on.
Finally I moved onto the toilet, but by then my bladder had gone back to retaining everything, so couldn’t perform. Back to bed, but by then everyone was awake and sleep proved impossible.
Eventually, after an hour, I went to the toilet as needed. Then a few hours later, we rested our aching bodies. And yes I feel battered, but I’m glad that I didn’t break anything – hopefully not.
That was not the first fall, just the latest of many. My legs collapsed about a month ago and I needed the bed and Juanita to get back up. But I’m worrying about what will happen when I go down harder. Do we call the paramedics? There are no neighbours that could help.
And what happens when I’m taken to hospital. Juanita doesn’t have a UK driving licence, although we have one friend that might help there. That is one key reason why we are heading for the US where we have family – strong sons that can pick me up.
This Omar manufactured Park Home has serious design flaws, even though it was meant to have been built around my wheelchair. With toilets that had just one grab handle each? A shower with inaccessible taps? Basins that can’t be reached from a wheelchair? A cupboard blocking wheelchair access in the bedroom? We have had modifications made by another cowboy firm – modifications that needed more repair work. Don’t think we’ll be going the rebuild route next time.
So on the US front, we need to find somewhere that has the correct modifications, as well as great views, sociable neighbours, and a garden the dogs can dash around and around.
Except that brings us to the ongoing problem: when will my brother ever see the urgency of the situation? When it’s too late? My grand-mother died from complications caused by a fall. My mother had two severe falls before she died. How many does it take?
Will he continue with the blinkers?
Therefore, I may not be commenting on anyone’s blog today, but I have decided to post this today, as this has to be breaking news. Well, hopefully nothing is broken – and this is not going to make headlines or go viral. When did MS ever make the headlines? We are only pretending to be sick.
There are worse problems to report on – like the gossip about Kim Kardashian.
Now, have you heard about…
Reblogged this on THE DUSKWEALD.
I think your brother is scared and in denial. There’s not much to be done about that.
On the plus side, in the US there are a lot of home construction firms starting to realize “wheelchair accessible” doesn’t just mean there’s a ramp from the drive to the door. A lot of them tout lower counter-tops and light switches and the like in their commercials. At least they do here in Colorado. How the home in question measures up to actual need, I can’t tell you that, because my perspective is different without a wheelchair.
Thanks for the understanding Katty. Shows that you don’t have to be in a wheelchair to understand our needs. Some of the pre-built homes even have a few of features, which is good.
Egad! That sucks about falling. Is it your brother who is doing the house shopping?
No, he’s just controlling the purse strings – as the head of the family, he claims. (In fact, he is the youngest sibling, and I’m the middle child.) He wants to control me, even though the money is part of my inheritance…at least until I die, and some of it reverts to him. So if he drags his knuckles, our house hunting/shopping gets postponed indefinitely.
Hate to hear all this. To say what a hassle would be understatement I’m sure.
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Thanks for the understanding Arlee. Its proving to be an ongoing ‘hassle’ but I’m still alive to cause more problems. 😉