Because of the extreme weakness in my legs and hip area, getting out of a chair is impossible for me. I have special chairs in my home that are automated and I make used of office chairs which have the facility to adjust the height. The higher the seat, the easier it is for me to get out of the chair as I can slide off it, rather than have to lift myself out. The same then applies to my wheel chair.
On Tuesday night I had to go to ‘BACK TO SCHOOL’ night at Ross’ school. I keep a special chair at the school permanently and whenever there are events there that I attend, they put it out for me in the appropriate room. It is a great chair that I bought from Pier 1 soon after we first arrived there. It is the height of a bar stool but it has arms, so I can ease myself into and off of it. It has become knows as my high chair.
The program for this evening required that I visit several classrooms and had to walk from one end of the school to the other, and back again in order to exit the building. This, combined with having to stand around in the rooms becomes tiring for me so it is the kind of event I would use my wheel chair for. I also walk slowly even when I am not wilting because I am tired, so chances are I would get to each next presentation a bit late.
As I really wanted to be there, I decided that the time had come for me to let someone else learn how to lift me out of my chair. This was a huge step for me. I was thinking about how I could best describe how this feels for me. In my early 20s through to my early 30s, when my mobility was still normal, I attended many workshops. I was and still am a spiritual seeker and I was always on one or another weekend retreat, course or workshop. One thing always came up on these workshops and I am sure as I start to describe it, you will know exactly what I am talking about. It is the dreaded trust process where you have to stand with your eyes close and fall backwards trusting that the group will catch you and you won’t end up slamming your head and back on the ground.
In spite of having been through this experience many times, I would feel the same anxiety every time. I think it was more about the total surrender it required than a lack of trust. When I am being lifted out of a chair, I have to surrender myself to the person doing it – completely! Only once someone has done it, can they know what I mean when I tell them in advance that my body puts no lift into the process. I rely totally on the other person to lift me, straighten me up and secure me on my feet so I can walk away from my wheel chair and move on from there.
I asked my sister if she would be ok to go with me and if I could come by her place over the weekend so we could practice with the chair. Not only was she totally willing, she was confident that she would be able to lift me without any problem. She did it twice by which time I had identified which part of it was not working for me. I had Daniel lift me in slow motion and I pointed out to her where she needed to assist me differently to what she was doing. She got it instantly, we did it one more time and aside from half squeezing her arm out of its socket, I was confident enough that we would be fine on Tuesday night.
As it turned out, I didn’t even use the wheelchair at the school. My sister was nonetheless so attentive and helpful. She was glued to my side and my elbow. At one point she went from Ross’ classroom all the way back to the gym to get my chair. Fortunately one of the dad’s in the room offered to carry it back.
Knowing the humor of the people who surround me, if I were to say this in a room full of them, I would probably have a whole lot of objects thrown at me and someone would yell, ‘Call the shmaltz police.’ I just can’t resist it though, I guess it’s a case of, SHE AIN’T HEAVY, SHE’S MY SISTER!
On Tuesday night I had to go to ‘BACK TO SCHOOL’ night at Ross’ school. I keep a special chair at the school permanently and whenever there are events there that I attend, they put it out for me in the appropriate room. It is a great chair that I bought from Pier 1 soon after we first arrived there. It is the height of a bar stool but it has arms, so I can ease myself into and off of it. It has become knows as my high chair.
The program for this evening required that I visit several classrooms and had to walk from one end of the school to the other, and back again in order to exit the building. This, combined with having to stand around in the rooms becomes tiring for me so it is the kind of event I would use my wheel chair for. I also walk slowly even when I am not wilting because I am tired, so chances are I would get to each next presentation a bit late.
As I really wanted to be there, I decided that the time had come for me to let someone else learn how to lift me out of my chair. This was a huge step for me. I was thinking about how I could best describe how this feels for me. In my early 20s through to my early 30s, when my mobility was still normal, I attended many workshops. I was and still am a spiritual seeker and I was always on one or another weekend retreat, course or workshop. One thing always came up on these workshops and I am sure as I start to describe it, you will know exactly what I am talking about. It is the dreaded trust process where you have to stand with your eyes close and fall backwards trusting that the group will catch you and you won’t end up slamming your head and back on the ground.
In spite of having been through this experience many times, I would feel the same anxiety every time. I think it was more about the total surrender it required than a lack of trust. When I am being lifted out of a chair, I have to surrender myself to the person doing it – completely! Only once someone has done it, can they know what I mean when I tell them in advance that my body puts no lift into the process. I rely totally on the other person to lift me, straighten me up and secure me on my feet so I can walk away from my wheel chair and move on from there.
I asked my sister if she would be ok to go with me and if I could come by her place over the weekend so we could practice with the chair. Not only was she totally willing, she was confident that she would be able to lift me without any problem. She did it twice by which time I had identified which part of it was not working for me. I had Daniel lift me in slow motion and I pointed out to her where she needed to assist me differently to what she was doing. She got it instantly, we did it one more time and aside from half squeezing her arm out of its socket, I was confident enough that we would be fine on Tuesday night.
As it turned out, I didn’t even use the wheelchair at the school. My sister was nonetheless so attentive and helpful. She was glued to my side and my elbow. At one point she went from Ross’ classroom all the way back to the gym to get my chair. Fortunately one of the dad’s in the room offered to carry it back.
Knowing the humor of the people who surround me, if I were to say this in a room full of them, I would probably have a whole lot of objects thrown at me and someone would yell, ‘Call the shmaltz police.’ I just can’t resist it though, I guess it’s a case of, SHE AIN’T HEAVY, SHE’S MY SISTER!
6 comments:
glad to hear plan B worked just fine :) i have participated in that "trust game" and have never managed to fall back straight. I either look back to see who is going to catch me or i bend my knees or something or the other. Not easy at all....
(this blog only allows "blogger" members to comment.... so i will put my previous username) :)
I've been loving you since you were born....why would it be any different now? Loving, lifting, laughing, crying, bitching.....hey, all in a day's work - right?
Your Sis.
oh dawn- it sounds like you are blessed to have a sister like my two sisters! how lucky can we get eh?!?
Well done Sis!! Good thing your plan b worked out. Now at least you know that if Dan's not arond, she can definitely help you out (pun intended - LOL)!!
Bet E. was honored that you asked for help. It is so rare for you to even ask. A boer maak a plan china - pleased yours worked out well!!
You are amazing.
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