Thursday, 2 February 2017

No Bears Please

A few weeks ago I fell out of my commode chair and cut my foot. At that time I simply didn't know how I fell. Today I figured it all out, by repeating the process in slow motion without the excitement of murderous looking lacerations under my toes. Yes, I fell out of my commode chair again, by accident, again, only this time it was slow, almost gentle, until the sudden stop at the bottom.

I was unhurt this time, only a bit winded by the stop. So I reviewed what happened this time, as it must have been the same last time. The situation and outcome were almost identical, except for the cuts. I know what it was, or is. When I reach beneath myself to clean up, I have to lean forward. Both of these times I have leaned forward forgetting to hold the safety bar. I then lose my balance, and down I go.

It might seem silly that I forget to use the safety bar. Just remember that I am new to this whole commode chair game, and new to the loss of core muscles. Never before in my life have I had to approach toileting in this manner. The automatic actions are not there for me. I have to think about everything in the process, ensuring I am safe all along the way. Sometimes my mind is on other things. Sometimes I just forget. Like this morning.

Given that I was okay when I hit the floor, I decided to slide myself into the bedroom and lift myself with the sling. The lift was in mid-position. I could reach it from a sitting position on the floor. All that would be required is that I sit up next to the bed, switch the lift on, and lift myself back up again. Only the long drag of my dead weight body from the bathroom to the bed left me so exhausted I couldn't sit myself up. I tried; Lord knows I tried. All to no avail. So I gave up and called 9-1-1, again.

One of the things you need to know about a shock situation like this is your bodily functions tend to stop acting. In other words you don't poo or pee when you are in shock. I was in shock. Until I managed to call 9-1-1, at which point I knew all would be well and I would be safe. The nice 9-1-1 operator was talking to on the phone, asking me to stay on the line until she was sure help was on the way. At that point my bladder said "To hell with it". and began to resume function.

I was stuck on the floor. I couldn't reach my jug. The operator was telling me to stay with her, to stay on the line. I had to do something! So I peed, all over my floor. Now, my floor is not level. It is an old building. Where liquid lands, it does not stay. In this case the natural flow of events was back at my body, all along the side where I was laying on the floor.

So there I was, laying on my bedroom floor, in a pool of my own urine, waiting for EMS to arrive. I had used a towel as a sliding surface as I dragged myself from the bathroom to the bedroom. So I rolled backwards a bit, urine following along on the floor, grabbed the towel and started mopping up. EMS arrived just as I finished. So the pee was gone, but the embarrassment lingered on.

The EMT who walked in my door has been here so often he didn't even buzz. Someone let him in I think, but he knew exactly where to go. He was not even working EMS today; he was working with the police in his private car when he heard the call over the radio. He recognized my address, was close by, so came right on over, beating the ambulance crew by enough time that we just cancelled that call. He looked at me, kind of smiled, and said "I think I've been here about four times now."

He helped me into my sling. As we were doing this, he said "You get weaker every time I see you." I explained that this was the nature of the disease, and that I didn't have a long time to go. I also apologized for being a nuisance to EMS. He assured me it was good, and encouraged me to keep going on my own for as long as I could. It was an interesting conversation, me sitting there nude on my commode chair, re-seated with the help of the sling, and him there in his full police EMS gear, strong, young and fit.

Regardless of all of this, I was back in my commode chair. My floor was mostly wiped up. My body was uninjured. And I am still constipated. Some days you get the bear, some days the bear gets you. I restarted my day; this time I am hoping there are no bears.

1 comment:

  1. Glad you are ok! Can relate to EVERYTHING! The concentration required, the ems, the pee, the embarrassment, the relief when they come. Your blog helps me....