Daniel's First Post (Day 36)
/It turns out that every day can't be rainbows and unicorns. Parts of today sucked. I got a new wheelchair the other day. A demo one, one to try out while I decide if I want something similar (but clearly more designed for my tall frame) for my "real" chair. This one is pretty sleek, there are no leg rests and my feet fall under me a bit. It's more aggressive and I sit it a bit more of an angle, though not as much as those badasses that you see all bunched in their manual wheelchairs. It was 75° here in Rochester Minnesota so my parents and I decided to go out for a "walk." This is basically my first time out of the hospital powering my own wheelchair. On previous trips, I've had other people pushing me for a variety of reasons, but in this case with the wheelchair that should be able to clear most curbs and no push bars, I was a bit on my own. It was, to say the least, a harrowing experience.
It turns out that I freaked out going down curbs, the "cut curbs" where there's a downward ramp into the street. It's hard to describe, but because I don't like going down the hill I try to slow down my progress. The result is that I don't have enough momentum for the front wheels/casters on the wheelchair to get over the bump into the road. I feel like I'm flying forward and will fly out of my wheelchair when that happens, which is obviously not a particularly enjoyable experience. I definitely got stuck in an intersection between going down the curb and entering the crosswalk. I imagine the cars waiting felt a bit bad for me, but it was a pretty crappy experience. It took us about an hour to get around the city block.
A month ago (before my accident) an uneven sidewalk or crack wouldn't faze me. I wouldn't have noticed it. But today too large of a crack caused me to lose my balance and almost freaked out. Even the slight gradient on the sidewalk, presumably to drain precipitation, means that I have to constantly battle with my uphill hand to maintain some tension so I don't go downhill. That same sidewalk looked perfectly flat to me before. My mom commented that this was the most frustrated she's ever seen me in this new life. I suspect she's correct. I put on a pretty strong face, but today it sucked. My mom wonders if it's always going to be like that. Difficulty navigating sidewalks, getting down curbs, an hour to get around the block. I told her the answer is no, but let's be honest, I don't really know. I just assume it's gonna get better because how the hell can't it...
But here's the thing. I came back, I took a nap, and when I woke up my wonderful friends were here. I am amazed by my friends. They're constantly by my side. They love me unconditionally. My godchildren and my nieces are going to grow up not remembering me in any other way than in the wheelchair. On one hand, that's devastatingly sad. On the other hand, I know this will leave them more compassionate and I hope more generous.
I put on a pretty good face. 98% of the time it's real. I'm not overwhelmingly sad. I'm sad, but it comes and goes. I'm frustrated, but it comes and goes. I think about the small victories like getting my butt in and out of a car for the first time. Maybe I'm trying to hard to protect those whom I love from any semblance of defeat. I don't want my parents to feel my sadness. The reality is that the wider range of emotions is real, and acknowledging them, being vulnerable, that's OK.
Today sucked. For about an hour and a half. I can't say the whole day sucked. I ended the day surrounded by friends after a wonderful homemade dinner, drinking tea, shooting the shit, I'm doing the same thing that we would be doing if were in my home or a restaurant or the bar. I love that my friends and my parents are integrating. It takes them back to high school when my friends used to sit around at my house after dinner for hours just hang out with my parents. I'm sure in our close quarters for the next few months we will have some frustrations, but at the end of the day I realize that I'm luckier than hell to be surrounded by family and friends whom I love dearly and who love me. I'll figure out the wheelchair. Ultimately, that's not what matters in life.
