Before the accident, I wouldn’t have bothered to post anything on Saturday.
Polls show, blogs aren’t read on the weekends. And if no one comes to read, then it’s a wasted effort, right?
Wrong.
Now? I could care less about readers, or numbers, or comments, or anything blog related. Now, all I care about is documenting my life because when you have a loved one that’s been in a serious, life-threatening accident, all of that stuff becomes secondary and so much less important. Life is precious. MY life and loved ones are precious. And if I DON’T write this out, when I feel like it NEEDS to come out, the top of my head will simply eject from my head and brain matter will come spilling out and soil my monitor.
And I can’t afford to buy a new monitor right now … so, here I am, posting on a Saturday.
I have meant to write more. I have wanted to write more. I have so much to write about. But when it comes time to sit down and actually write, I lose focus – more so than normal. All of my thoughts and feelings are a jumbled heap of confusion. I think I’ve been so focused on keeping everything in, all of the doubts, fears, anger, confusion, elation, hope, worries, etc. buried deep inside me that when it comes time to open that box and sort through the various emotions, I find I can’t make sense of it all.
So for right now, I’ll focus on what’s uppermost in my Pandora’s box: apprehension.
Kevin has been very active this week. He’s getting this transfer from his bed/wheelchair/toilet/car/couch thing down to a science. I don’t really have to help him at all anymore – I just stand to the side and hope he’s strong enough to handle it all.
We’ve been successful in getting Kevin into my car. So successful, in fact, that we went to Wal-Mart yesterday.
It’s one thing to talk about how we’re going to do something – to plan it out, step-by-step and try and anticipate problems along the way, it’s QUITE something else to actually DO it.
This was the first time that I had loaded up his wheelchair. I folded it up and put it in the car, along with the sliding board and leg extenders. We took the leg extenders because if we hadn’t, then Kevin would have had to lift his legs up so I could push the chair the entire time we were shopping; lifting your legs is fine if you’re going a short distance, hard if you’re being pushed around a store the size of two football fields.
Folding the chair is not that difficult. You grab onto the seat and pull up – the whole thing collapses onto itself, but lifting the chair into the back of my car was harder than I thought it would be. It’s MUCH heavier than it looks. I can handle it, but Oy.
In addition, the chair takes up so much room, that I’m forced to lower the back seat to make room for it. Which is fine when it’s just me and Kevin in the car, but impossible if say we’re going to the airport to catch our flight out of Springfield and we have two teenage boys AND luggage.
It’s simply not going to work.
We’re going to have to ask someone to follow us to the airport with the boys and our luggage.
OR, try and figure out a way to strap the wheelchair to my car from the outside – like a bike rack for wheelchairs. (Or use an actual bike rack?)
But this is why we’re practicing transferring him around town now, so we’ll know what to expect when it comes time for our trip.
And therein lies my anxiety. We’re planning on leaving our house, our city, our state, our country! I mean, I think the full implication of that has only fully hit me. Good Lord, what are we thinking?? Can we do this? Can I do this?? Because ultimately, this trip will come down to me and how I handle it all.
I’m willful, controlling, stubborn and (semi) organized but am I crazy? After all, this trip is not about me, it’s about making sure Kevin is safely transferred during our travels. It’s about making sure I keep track of everything and everyone while making sure we are where we’re supposed to be at such-and-such time.
To say this upcoming trip and all that that entails is daunting is an understatement.
Am I biting off more than I can chew? Granted, Kevin is not an invalid, he can transfer himself and handle his own weight (and that’s only going to get better and better), but coping with a handicap person cross country is completely new territory for me. I’m still getting used to transferring him around town, let alone out of country!
I must be insane.
So the doubts. They are there. And I try not to show the boys or Kevin that I’m a bit nervous about this whole thing and yes, we could just cancel it, but then what. We stay home with our tail between our legs? We let the situation control how we live our lives? We let Satan win??
I.
Don’t.
Think.
So.
We can do this. I CAN DO THIS. I just need to stop thinking so much and jump in with both feet. We will continue practicing and we’ll continue to look for ways to make this trip as easy and smooth as possible.
Assuming, of course, the doctor gives the okay to go. If he doesn’t, then this anxiety is really a waste of energy, isn’t it.
Speaking of doctor – Kevin goes to his orthopedic doctor on Tuesday. I’m really anxious to see how his fractures have healed and HOPING that he won’t have to wear the stupid braces for much longer, if at all.
Kevin is impatient to get on with his life.
We all are.
Write From Karen 