#41 My ALS Journey—Being Stupid

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“The attempt to develop a sense of humor and to see things in a humorous light is some kind of a trick learned while mastering the art of living.”

Viktor Frankl, Man’s Search for Meaning

I remember the day after I received my driver’s license at age 16, my mother woke me up early and told me I had to take her downtown to the courthouse. She was a detective for the Sheriff’s Department at the time and investigating a child abuse case. The teen girl was in hiding from her abusive family, and my mother would not, for the girl’s safety, provide habeas corpus (reveal the location of the girl to the court). Half laughing, my mother told me that I needed to take her to court in case the judge gave her an ultimatum of either giving up the girl or going to jail. The idea was that if she went to jail, she didn’t want her car sitting in a parking garage for however long she was there.

These are the kinds of things she would do. She loved a good story, and I think she got herself into trouble sometimes just to tell one. The worse the predicament, the funnier the story.

Here she goes again.

–Tricia

Have you ever done something that you knew at the time was stupid, but for unknown or complicated reasons, you did it anyway, willing to take the risk, knowing there may be consequences? It could be something as simple as texting while you drive or as dangerous as climbing to the top rung of a ladder in a rainy windstorm to put up Christmas tree lights. This week, I did something stupid at my grandson Adam’s wedding, and I had no excuse or valid reason.

If you have paid any attention to my postings, you know my nemesis is the use of restrooms. Wherever I go, I check out the restroom. I fear getting caught off guard and being unable to care for those basic human needs. On Saturday, upon arrival at the wedding, the first thing I did was the restroom check. I wanted to make sure it was handicapped-accessible. It was. It had an easy roll-in entrance and plenty of turning-around room for a power wheelchair and assistance bars. Okay, no problem. I even alerted my sister that I may need her assistance. However, in the back of my mind, I thought, I can do this alone. It was a bad idea.

It is important to throw into this more than warm scenario that it was a day that would have been described by many as a scorching day. Think about it: a 4:00 pm wedding in July in Sacramento. The temperature range was probably a little over 100 degrees, and the temperature in the plastic vinyl restroom was probably higher. I decided I could handle this little excursion to the bathroom by myself, and to make it worse, I didn’t tell anyone where I was going. I wanted to conquer this mountain on my own.

One very important detail that did not register in my little pea brain when I checked out the port-a-potty was that the assistance bar was on the right, not the left. This is a problem for me even in the best situations, but it proved to be an even greater problem under hot, sweaty circumstances. My right arm is a little weaker than my left, and it is not easy to use my wheelchair as a stabilizer because my power controls are on the right side.

To make a very hot sweaty, cumbersome story short, I was stuck. I couldn’t get up and back into my wheelchair, and the harder I tried, the weaker I became. As I sat there thinking of all my options, miraculously, I heard my sister Kathy and niece Ali outside the door. They were able to get past the door lock to get in to help me transfer to my chair. It took the combined strength of both of them to help me since, by this time, neither one of my legs could hold me, and my arms were so weak I wasn’t much help to them. At one point, because I was so weak, I told them I didn’t think I could do this. My sister said to me, as only a sister can, “Swing your butt. This is the only chance we have.”
They held on tight, we swung, and we made the transfer.

Again, as only a sister would do, she ratted me out to my husband and daughter. Cliff was mad, for good reason. It could have been a disastrous situation easily avoided. Even when you are 68, you want to do things your own way even though it may not be the best choice.

Fortunately, we did not have to call 911 or alert other wedding party guests. I was fine; my sister Kathy and niece Ali were the day’s heroes. However, the consequences were that I wasted valuable physical and mental energy, and it took me a couple of days to recover. I need to remember this incident. It is much better to use my energy in a positive way, like dancing with Adam at his wedding.

–Susan

toilet
The porta-potty in question.

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