I've been learning all sorts of new stuff. Like how to pull myself up if I fall on the floor. It's hard pulling, completely dependent on my arm strength. Which I must continue to work on--weights this afternoon.
Somehow, I've got to be able to talk someone through moving me up or down a curb when I can't find a ramp. If it's not a friend, then it might be a stranger.
Car transfers. On Tuesday it was scary. On Wednesday it was just a problem that had to be solved. I pushed myself out of the car backwards so hard, that I dislodged my cushion and pushed it halfway up the chair seat. A break today, and back to this tomorrow. I can't get into Mariah's honda because the door doesn't open far enough to get the wheelchair next to the car seat. Luckily, my mother's Saturn doesn't have this problem.
I will see the SWAT team nurse today for colostomy bag changing training.
After I've done the weight lifting.
3 comments:
Oh, oof. (oh, wait - that should be "poof," shouldn't it?) There was a post in the early days of the blog that made a reference to data that had been redacted out of respect for your privacy; I had wondered if it might have been gastrointestinal in nature. If you don't mind my asking, is the bag permanent, or is there a possibility of reconnecting surgery in the future?
Temporary. There was a wound that entered the colon. Long since healed.
I seem to be shameless--I believe in a sort of openness that doesn't have me thinking about privacy in this matter.
Sure, it's embarassing and I wish I didn't have it, but as a scientist's daughter (by temprement as well as descent) it's also sort of interesting. Plus I have a little bit of the Act Up/Queer Nation sort of in the face reality, I'll be damned if I hide it. It's just another fact of nature. We produce shit. Thisw attitude probably cbrings me more trouble than joy, but it is what has me go after the eplayans and tribsters who spout nonscence. Which is how I gained so many e-friends. At least as far as I can tell. (ALAFAICT?)
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