Oh gosh, is it New MMP Day?
I got a new wheelchair a few days ago. As with nearly all my mobility aids, it belonged to someone who died. That’s kind of the thing- “Well, Gramps isn’t using this anymore… you know who likes walkers? Dorothy!” My other wheelchair belonged to a guy who left everything he owned (house, car, dogs, money, etc.) to the shelter and it was in the house and practically brand new. It’s, I guess, a fairly standard size- the same as you might find in a hospital What I didn’t really realize is that being standard-size-for-an-average-dude means it’s actually too big for me. This one is for a little old lady and- what a difference! I can use it in the house, I can propel it much more easily, I was even having visions of taking it out into the world.
So yesterday- a friend has been having car troubles and is having her transmission rebuilt, so I told her if she found herself in need of a car, she could use mine. It’s not doing anyone any good just sitting out there. I wanted to make sure it was tidied up before she took it, so I took the wheels down the lift and was trying to get around the side of the house when I hit a spot on the sidewalk where it slopes a little. Like, just a little. Not even enough that I had ever noticed it before. But I lost traction, flipped my wheelchair, and went head-first down a pretty steep hill. I landed on my left shoulder/side of my head and sort of wrenched my head to the right. We tried to get me back into the chair and up the hill a couple times, but ended up calling an ambulance both because I was pretty stuck and because I had hit my head/neck. They got me back on track and said I looked okay and didn’t really have to go to the hospital unless I wanted to (I didn’t).
Felt worse and worse as the night wore on- not really too much more neurological than normal, but in a LOT of pain. Rolled out to the kitchen to try to find something to eat in the hopes that it would help, and right then, the kid came home from her dad’s and was all smiles and stories and wanted to tell me all about her new apps and her cat and the jokes she’d heard and the things she’d done and how excited she was to maybe be able to go to the movies again soon and… I mean, when a kid is excited to see you, it doesn’t matter how crappy you feel. You laugh at her jokes and ask questions about the cat and look at her new apps. I was super photosensitive by that point and it was like… a palatable relief when she went to go watch a movie with her mom and I could turn the lights off. Then, when I got back to my bed, I discovered that one of my lovely cats had barfed all over it. I wanted to cry (um… and did). It took me about another two hours to get my bedding changed and by the time I got in bed, I was considering going to the hospital after all. I couldn’t read or look at my phone or watch anything on the computer because the light was so painful, but just lying there with nothing to distract me from the pain at all wasn’t working. I eventually found a podcast called “Sleepy” where a guy literally just reads books to you. Picked one I know very well- go ahead, guess what it was. There’s a wizard involved (well, he’s sort of a fraud) and it’s not Harry Potter. I made a deal with myself that if I was still awake at 3, I would go to the hospital. Then I moved that up to 2 and then 1 because there was no way I was going to be able to stand it that long. But the podcast eventually worked (thank goodness) and I slept on and off til morning.
I still feel like I lost a fight with The Incredible Hulk, but my head and neck don’t hurt as badly as they did and, obviously, I’m okay on the computer. And once again… I rolled out to the kitchen to consider my food options and the kid was right there asking about some paints I had. I had told her we were going to use them to paint the front window, but there’s been a lot going on and we haven’t had time. She asked if we could do it and I had been telling her for a couple weeks that we would next time we had some time together, so I wasn’t going to refuse her just because I feel like I’ve gone through a meat grinder. (As an aside, I just heard her in the other room video call a friend- “Hi! Guess what we did today?! We painted the window! Look!”). The plan was to make a design with masking tape, paint the parts in between, and then remove the masking tape so we had clean lines. It’s a big window and she wanted to do both that and paint pictures, so we divided it in half and did half one way and half the other. Mom did not want to participate and also could not be bothered to come look at the finished product (she was in her room watching The Office.) so the kid texted her a picture of it.
I have, of course, retreated to my room to take a break. Kid just walked in with her friend on video chat to show me her cat and show her my cat and I told her I would be out in a few to work on food- I have the stuff for another casserole (this one sort of creamy and with tortellini in it) and we have some eggs that need to be used, so the question was- deviled eggs or brownies? She chose brownies. Then, she brushed off my cat tree (“I’m the helper of the family,” “You’re very helpful, but you’re a lot more than that.”) I’m hoping moving more makes me feel better, but… really not counting on it. Either way, the veggies won’t last a whole lot longer and this casserole needs to be made before things go to waste because I can’t just run out to the store for a replacement if one thing goes bad. So I just have to do it. Just… go do it. Now. Or in a minute. Or… five minutes…
It’s a puzzlement.
Mailed off my postcards for certain Dopers in a certain postcard exchange, watered my seedlings, took out the trash, a few piddly little things like that.