Sunday, April 25, 2010

There, I Said it. Fuck Pride.

In the Face. Jealous much? Yeah I thought so. I've taken the loss of Independence very hard. I have had trouble walking since December of 2006, then got worse and worse. I am now in a wheelchair almost fulltime, from the pain that hinders me for walking.

I started to notice the losses almost right away, but god damn I fought it. I would get to know that emergency brake very well. If I didn't have the strength to push the brake all the way at stoplights, I put the car in park on the reds. One day in winter I was driving up a hill and my right leg had a life of it's own, scared the living hell out of me, luckily I still was able to think fast and not panic.

The biggest loss of simple things came all at once, no driving, (partly afraid of the blackouts but it hurts far too much), taking a step or 4, getting any food and drink is impossible for myself, often I need help in the bathroom too. I can't shower on my own. I can't shower period, but still need to be held and helped.

I was well taken care of in San Diego all winter by my dearest friends, and am back home now, being taken care of by the man when he is in town.

Last weekend I took the redeye from San Diego to Newark. That was the easy part. I had a jackass of a Personal Assistant. This is where I was hit over the head with my lack of Independence.

The PA was very rough with me on the airplane chair, to get to the wheelchair. He was harsh and fast and I in teary eyes asked him many times to please
be gentle, I am in alot of pain. He tried to get me to take the shuttle. He wasn't getting me so I started to talk like him.

PA: "Shuttle YES"

Me. "Shuttle No!. Shuttle stairs"

"Yes Shuttle Stairs. "Look at me, I can't walk".

Due to not taking the shuttle I had to change terminals, which entailed going outside, a skytrain and going through security, for the second time. Continuing through the terminal, he leaves me at the gate. However, he didn't lock the chair, nor help me get in the normal people seats. We argued because he was taking the wheelchair, (I had the chair every other time for all layovers), he tried to convince me one stranger would help me, again I had to say look at me, I can't walk.

PA: "You okay you okay." as he's leaving me.

"Not really".

Thank you very much Newark Continental. Your letter is forthcoming.

Upon my return, I really can't do anything for myself. I can dress myself, but only in soft things. I really miss cooking.

I can't go out to get anything for anyone. I am still self conscious in the chair, for the staring.

I don't Look Sick, but I look as though there sure as hell is something wrong.

My muscles have atrophied, I'm still about 90 pounds. I fall.

I was never one to take things for granted, and I am grieving the losses daily.

This disease is evil. I should be at the top of my profession, I am only young still. I suppose I just hit the top early?

Fuck Pride, let it go.

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