Gimme a Lift
My hulking son carried me up the stairs at 2:06 p.m. this past Sunday afternoon. Yes, fortunately he's muscle bound, or we never would have made the ascent. Due to the constricted space, the initial wheelchair effort massively failed (rolling me up the stairs). And well before that, I was unable to secure assistance from anybody else, including paid entities (who lift people for a living) wouldn’t join the cause. Apparently the stairway is indeed way too treacherous for all comers, no matter the amount of money offered.
So instead of utilizing the last and final resort (fire department personnel), my son insisted that he could lift and carry me - which he obviously did, and that's the story of that. No injuries worth noting, besides …
Approximately three hours after completing the lift event, I suddenly felt pain and heavy pressure upon my chest. My immediate concern was that I was having a heart attack. I did what any normal human being would do in my situation - I surveyed the internet, as the unrelenting pressure continued in the center of my rib cage.
Since I didn't have any other obvious symptoms, I decided that I somehow possibly injured my sternum during the lift, and was most probably experiencing a localized one-time muscle cramping reaction as a result of the awkward hoist / physical lift sequence.
I’ve not experienced any similar or related pain since then.
Yes, it sometimes sucks being broken and old.
That's Cool
As the title outlines, I am now living amidst and amongst a plethora of air conditioned air molecules. Redundant as that sounds, it is indeed the truth of the matter. The first couple of days there were temperature adjustments and compromises to be made. The main adjustment? Well, let's just say that there's no reason (in my opinion) why it should ever be warmer inside an air-conditioned condominium than a non air-conditioned garage.
So, I negotiated my former wife down to 80° Fahrenheit, the agreed upon indoor temperature while she is home (conscious or not). When she's gone off to earn a living each day I can crank the thermostat down to whatever temperature I prefer. And unlike the previous time spent in confinement (under this very same roof, while being deathly ill), I actually have income that I regularly contribute into paying the bills. That's right, if nothing else, I can actually afford to air-condition myself!
Well, I can also afford my daily applesauce, banana flakes, probiotics, bargain basement hospital scrubs, a three inch rubber threshold mat, and an all-new very used electric wheelchair.
Wait, What?
Because the shag carpet covering the master bedroom floor is super shaggy, lumpy, impossibly stretched and randomly bunched up in places, utilizing the manual wheelchair in every sense is a near impossibility. Heck, the carpet is warped and misshapen to the extent that there are at least a dozen semi-permanent wave-like formations standing at attention.
Think Algodones Dunes, mounds of forever drifting sand, located just across the Arizona border.
Making the manual wheelchair move is exhausting. Despite my coaxing, the wheels do not want to roll beyond a well-earned several inches at a time.
The way it works is that I make barely notable progress, then I rest. Then I make some effort. Then I rest and recover. Then I make more effort. And before I know it, I've moved three feet! And then I desperately need a nap. Or pure oxygen, the kind that's highly flammable. Or I need to ingest massive quantities of cocaine, caffeine, and dark chocolate brownies - in order to recover in a reasonably short time.
So yeah, I made a corporate decision. I went on to Craigslist and searched out an electric wheelchair that would meet my needs, and also, the cheapest one I could afford. Beyond that, I used my intuition.
But why would I purchase a chair when I already have one?
My current power chair weighs well over 400 lbs and cannot be brought upstairs. Heck, I'm only around 150 lbs right now and even with help from my son, I could barely be brought up the stairs
Note: Yeah, I've been killing it with the caloric intake of late, averaging nearly 2,000 calories per day, which is mostly formula feed.
My marijuana and nicotine maintenance program seems to be working, along with direct pressure applied to a certain specific area adjacent to my feeding tube stoma.
I'm still intestinally ill once every two or three days, but that's much better than every day all the time!
Anyways—-
If I did not purchase an additional electric wheelchair (to be utilized upstairs), I would once again be dependent upon others for any needs relating to my being physically moved, and / or my attaining goods and necessities (really, anything beyond my reach) necessary for my survival!
Familiar Ring / Habits and Habitats
Sunday evening and into Monday were difficult, as I experienced being bed bound all over again, the same way I had been prior to the nursing home experience. And the worst part was (and is) being dependent upon others for most of my needs to be met. And then also, being in the same bed, in the same exact bedroom, where I spent 2,137 consecutive days of my life prior to my nursing home experience.
Cheers for Chairs
The guy who brought over the chair is 86 years old. Seriously. Both he and my caregiver brought the chair upstairs in four separate pieces. So yeah, some assembly required.
They put the chair together. He demonstrated the chairs functions and abilities, and then I handed over the $500.
After he left I climbed into the chair, activated the joystick, and the wheelchair died. It wouldn't move. Dead as nails.
My caregiver insisted that the battery may have been died, perhaps not having been sufficiently charged. Based upon mounting evidence, I did not believe that was the case. But just to make sure, we plugged my new chair into the charger and waited and waited and waited.
After the wait, the display indicated the battery was charged to full capacity. So I excitedly climbed back into the chair, put the footrest down, and the chair immediately shut off again.
Due to my concerns regarding the failed operation of the chair, I contacted the seller, and we had a reasonable conversation regarding the problem I was experiencing.
There's no need to go into all the details, he's going to come out either tomorrow or the following day in efforts to resolve the issue. Based upon nothing whatsoever, I believe the battery connection is loose, because the only time the chair shuts off is if I put the footrest down, or the chair traverses a pronounced lump in the shag carpet.
Thursday - the 86-year-old man came out, took the chair apart (with plenty of assistance from my caregiver), put the chair back together and it worked great. No idea what the problem was … possibly a random loose connection.
Death Roll
With assistance from the wife, we attempted to get my electric chair beyond the threshold, down the ramp, and safely onto the balcony. Needless to say, a dangerously tight squeeze, not to mention the obstacles presented, necessitating a hairpin turn off the edge of the ramp.
Again, I won't push out too many words in this effort, but needless to say, things went sideways as soon as I started angling down the short ramp.
The chair began angling sideways and then to the left slightly, but I was able to brace myself with my feet against the Pillar of Strength (that which supports the balcony and roof structure).
I tried reversing, but the wheels simply spun round and round.
Luckily, the wife was able to pull me back to safety while I simultaneously pulled back on the joystick.
So that's the end of that experiment. For now.
Friday is a New Day with Old Problems
10:06 hrs, Friday - tred to use the chair, and for all intents and purposes, it's dead, doesn't move, doesn't do anything.
Alright, I'm going to go ahead and post this. The rest of the content can be posted another time. Or not. I'm doing my best to provide non-negative, and perhaps even life inspiring material (rather than my raw emotional truth ---- which will, of course, appear in the novelized version of this entire illness adventure / debacle - if and when I publish it, which I never shall).
The most important thing is that I don't want you guys to get the wrong idea. Unless, you're looking for the wrong idea. If that's the case, feel free to be enveloped in how many ever ways it pleases you!
Take care,
Howard
View from the Balcony
Too Mucho Marijuana?
Woman with Three Arms
The Chair that Quits
My hulking son carried me up the stairs at 2:06 p.m. this past Sunday afternoon. Yes, fortunately he's muscle bound, or we never would have made the ascent. Due to the constricted space, the initial wheelchair effort massively failed (rolling me up the stairs). And well before that, I was unable to secure assistance from anybody else, including paid entities (who lift people for a living) wouldn’t join the cause. Apparently the stairway is indeed way too treacherous for all comers, no matter the amount of money offered.
So instead of utilizing the last and final resort (fire department personnel), my son insisted that he could lift and carry me - which he obviously did, and that's the story of that. No injuries worth noting, besides …
Approximately three hours after completing the lift event, I suddenly felt pain and heavy pressure upon my chest. My immediate concern was that I was having a heart attack. I did what any normal human being would do in my situation - I surveyed the internet, as the unrelenting pressure continued in the center of my rib cage.
Since I didn't have any other obvious symptoms, I decided that I somehow possibly injured my sternum during the lift, and was most probably experiencing a localized one-time muscle cramping reaction as a result of the awkward hoist / physical lift sequence.
I’ve not experienced any similar or related pain since then.
Yes, it sometimes sucks being broken and old.
That's Cool
As the title outlines, I am now living amidst and amongst a plethora of air conditioned air molecules. Redundant as that sounds, it is indeed the truth of the matter. The first couple of days there were temperature adjustments and compromises to be made. The main adjustment? Well, let's just say that there's no reason (in my opinion) why it should ever be warmer inside an air-conditioned condominium than a non air-conditioned garage.
So, I negotiated my former wife down to 80° Fahrenheit, the agreed upon indoor temperature while she is home (conscious or not). When she's gone off to earn a living each day I can crank the thermostat down to whatever temperature I prefer. And unlike the previous time spent in confinement (under this very same roof, while being deathly ill), I actually have income that I regularly contribute into paying the bills. That's right, if nothing else, I can actually afford to air-condition myself!
Well, I can also afford my daily applesauce, banana flakes, probiotics, bargain basement hospital scrubs, a three inch rubber threshold mat, and an all-new very used electric wheelchair.
Wait, What?
Because the shag carpet covering the master bedroom floor is super shaggy, lumpy, impossibly stretched and randomly bunched up in places, utilizing the manual wheelchair in every sense is a near impossibility. Heck, the carpet is warped and misshapen to the extent that there are at least a dozen semi-permanent wave-like formations standing at attention.
Think Algodones Dunes, mounds of forever drifting sand, located just across the Arizona border.
Making the manual wheelchair move is exhausting. Despite my coaxing, the wheels do not want to roll beyond a well-earned several inches at a time.
The way it works is that I make barely notable progress, then I rest. Then I make some effort. Then I rest and recover. Then I make more effort. And before I know it, I've moved three feet! And then I desperately need a nap. Or pure oxygen, the kind that's highly flammable. Or I need to ingest massive quantities of cocaine, caffeine, and dark chocolate brownies - in order to recover in a reasonably short time.
So yeah, I made a corporate decision. I went on to Craigslist and searched out an electric wheelchair that would meet my needs, and also, the cheapest one I could afford. Beyond that, I used my intuition.
But why would I purchase a chair when I already have one?
My current power chair weighs well over 400 lbs and cannot be brought upstairs. Heck, I'm only around 150 lbs right now and even with help from my son, I could barely be brought up the stairs
Note: Yeah, I've been killing it with the caloric intake of late, averaging nearly 2,000 calories per day, which is mostly formula feed.
My marijuana and nicotine maintenance program seems to be working, along with direct pressure applied to a certain specific area adjacent to my feeding tube stoma.
I'm still intestinally ill once every two or three days, but that's much better than every day all the time!
Anyways—-
If I did not purchase an additional electric wheelchair (to be utilized upstairs), I would once again be dependent upon others for any needs relating to my being physically moved, and / or my attaining goods and necessities (really, anything beyond my reach) necessary for my survival!
Familiar Ring / Habits and Habitats
Sunday evening and into Monday were difficult, as I experienced being bed bound all over again, the same way I had been prior to the nursing home experience. And the worst part was (and is) being dependent upon others for most of my needs to be met. And then also, being in the same bed, in the same exact bedroom, where I spent 2,137 consecutive days of my life prior to my nursing home experience.
Cheers for Chairs
The guy who brought over the chair is 86 years old. Seriously. Both he and my caregiver brought the chair upstairs in four separate pieces. So yeah, some assembly required.
They put the chair together. He demonstrated the chairs functions and abilities, and then I handed over the $500.
After he left I climbed into the chair, activated the joystick, and the wheelchair died. It wouldn't move. Dead as nails.
My caregiver insisted that the battery may have been died, perhaps not having been sufficiently charged. Based upon mounting evidence, I did not believe that was the case. But just to make sure, we plugged my new chair into the charger and waited and waited and waited.
After the wait, the display indicated the battery was charged to full capacity. So I excitedly climbed back into the chair, put the footrest down, and the chair immediately shut off again.
Due to my concerns regarding the failed operation of the chair, I contacted the seller, and we had a reasonable conversation regarding the problem I was experiencing.
There's no need to go into all the details, he's going to come out either tomorrow or the following day in efforts to resolve the issue. Based upon nothing whatsoever, I believe the battery connection is loose, because the only time the chair shuts off is if I put the footrest down, or the chair traverses a pronounced lump in the shag carpet.
Thursday - the 86-year-old man came out, took the chair apart (with plenty of assistance from my caregiver), put the chair back together and it worked great. No idea what the problem was … possibly a random loose connection.
Death Roll
With assistance from the wife, we attempted to get my electric chair beyond the threshold, down the ramp, and safely onto the balcony. Needless to say, a dangerously tight squeeze, not to mention the obstacles presented, necessitating a hairpin turn off the edge of the ramp.
Again, I won't push out too many words in this effort, but needless to say, things went sideways as soon as I started angling down the short ramp.
The chair began angling sideways and then to the left slightly, but I was able to brace myself with my feet against the Pillar of Strength (that which supports the balcony and roof structure).
I tried reversing, but the wheels simply spun round and round.
Luckily, the wife was able to pull me back to safety while I simultaneously pulled back on the joystick.
So that's the end of that experiment. For now.
Friday is a New Day with Old Problems
10:06 hrs, Friday - tred to use the chair, and for all intents and purposes, it's dead, doesn't move, doesn't do anything.
Alright, I'm going to go ahead and post this. The rest of the content can be posted another time. Or not. I'm doing my best to provide non-negative, and perhaps even life inspiring material (rather than my raw emotional truth ---- which will, of course, appear in the novelized version of this entire illness adventure / debacle - if and when I publish it, which I never shall).
The most important thing is that I don't want you guys to get the wrong idea. Unless, you're looking for the wrong idea. If that's the case, feel free to be enveloped in how many ever ways it pleases you!
Take care,
Howard
View from the Balcony
Too Mucho Marijuana?
Woman with Three Arms
The Chair that Quits
