Monday, 20 February 2017

Dumping A Wheelbarrow

David has found a new way to get revenge on me, a new way to reduce my battered dignity even further. And it's funny! Even I laugh when he does it, so it must be funny. It has to do with how he helps transfer me from my manual wheelchair onto these very high hotel beds. Before getting into detail, it's important to understand my transfer challenges of late, and how they are impacted by travel.

First of all, I rarely use the transfer board at home anymore when transferring from my manual chair to my bed, a transfer which typically takes place at the end of the day as I get ready for bed, at a time when my arms are tired and I am generally exhausted. It's an uphill slope from my chair to the bed. So although the transfer board might be faster, I use the sling and lift instead. Not only does it take less energy, but it is all round safer than a manual transfer with tired arms.

In the mornings I make the transfers to and from my commode chair, a chair which is almost level to my bed at home, yet still lower than most of the beds here on the road. If I can do it, fine. If I cannot, David drapes a towel over my exposed body and just gives me a bit of a push, a boost up the slope of the board.

In the evenings, when I am transferring from the wheelchair, it's a much bigger boost. At first David just grabbed my jeans and heaved, like he was giving me a boost into the truck. This generally ended with my on my side halfway up the board, and him injuring himself somehow. His knee is still recovering from one of these attempts.

His next step was to just boost me along the board, something which required more of a pushing kind of thing and less of a lifting kind of thing. Once again I typically found myself halfway up the board, laying on my side. David would see the challenge, walk around the bed, and yard my arms to pull me up the rest of the way.

Then, the other day, David had one of his rare moments of anger and frustration at what he was having to deal with. There I was, halfway up the board, this time still sitting. There he was trying to push my gently up the board so I wouldn't fall over, again. He just said "To hell with it", picked up his end of the transfer board, and dumped me onto the bed.

Think of it like a wheelbarrow. I am the load, David is the worker. He simply tips up the board like it was the wheelbarrow, and I tumble down, a heap of humanity, lumped up there at the end of the transfer board, on the bed in near perfect position. Yes, it is ungainly for me. Yes, it is undignified for me. Yes, it is easier on David. Yes, it gets me into just about the perfect place on the bed. Yes, it is funnier than hell each time. David gets an easier task; I get an amusement park ride. Everybody wins!


  1. I hope you then sleep well after recovering from the shock. Good night Richard!