Did you ever have a day when you just wanted to run away from your life? Yeah. Me, too. In fact, today is one of those days.
I woke up this morning before six o’clock to the sound of Ken falling. Believe me, that sound is worse than any jarring alarm clock. I think I lose a part of my life every time he tumbles because my heart stops.
We both try to make light of these situations because falling happens frequently. One slight little turn or wobble and down he goes. Luckily, most of his falls leave him unscathed. I think he has a legion of guardian angels on the job to break his falls. He could solve these moments of weakness by using his motorized wheel chair, but he prefers to hold on to walls and use his walker. I think he hates using his motorized wheel chair because when he’s in it he has to recognize he’s handicapped — so he fights it.
However, his stubborn attitude makes life harder for me when I attempt to pick him up off the floor. So far, I haven’t been endowed with super powers by any entity, so I struggle to pick up his 160 pound carcass off of the floor, while I order him to move a certain way.
Today it was too much. I stumbled out of bed and ran into the kitchen to find him grasping the edge of the counter top. I witnessed his legs shaking, so I grabbed the office chair that we use for him in the kitchen and wheeled it over to catch him before he fell again.
He had managed to make coffee and put his breakfast dishes on the table, but he hadn’t eaten yet. On top of that, the dog was dancing to go outside and the cat was meowing for his morning tuna.
Because this morning started with such a big bang, this normal routine of preparing Ken’s breakfast and taking care of the dog and cat made me spin out of control. I barely had my eyes open and here I was wanting to pull my hair out because things in my life went out of whack through no fault of my own.
I think MS stands for Mean Son-of-a-Bitch because that is exactly what a patient and those around him/her become during frustrating times like this. Yelling is a release, but it does little good. Huffing and Puffing doesn’t help. Nothing helps when you find yourself in the moment.
Taking deep breaths helps. A couple cups of coffee helps, and finally, being able to vent through writing with a little bit of quiet time, helps.
I’m back to normal now, able to focus and carry on. I’ve once again found that nice person inside me who I like a lot better than the crazy woman who took over this morning.
I still would love a vacation, though — perhaps a nice sail down a lazy river? Yeah. I’ll meditate on that.