I thought I wasn't going to be able to get out of bed. I awoke around 8:30, feeling horribly sleep deprived/jet lagged. I stayed in bed at least an hour, trying (unsuccessfully) to get back to sleep and maybe recover enough to do anything.
I have no idea how, but I got up, drove myself to the high school where I work to pick up some stuff, ran into a colleague, drove both of us (I drove!) to a local Vietnamese restaurant where I ate an entire sandwich and a side-order of fries—much more than I usually eat, lunch, dinner, or any time. Didn't order it, but found out they had ginger rice pudding that was non-dairy (that's definitely on my list for later).
Drove us to the office-supply store to pick up some stuff, drove him back to the school, drove myself to two banks to clear some business, then drove myself to a pharmacy to pick up some stuff, then drove myself to Trader Joe's—well, it was on the way home, I'd have to drive right past it, I figured I might as well. Got my wife a yellow rose to adorn her work desk.
When I got home... I could barely walk. I can still barely walk. It's not so much that my muscles are tired, although they certainly are, but it feels more like my nerves are tired.
I have no idea how, or why, I was able to accomplish so much out in the world. But I did.
This whole walking thing... I don't like it, any more, I get really tired, really easily. I could, I suppose, move to full-on wheelchair-bound, but I'm positive that'd be even more inconvenient than being walker-bound, so I keep walking.
But I did a whole lot of walking today. But, somehow, I don't feel anything. Not "Hooray! I did it!" Not "Man, that was expensive. I don't know whether I want to do that again." It just... happened. I noticed the difficulty, I certainly noticed the cost. But I felt nothing. No triumph. No nothing.
Even when I was non-walkerbound, I would have felt at least a little "Well! I sure got a lot done today, didn't I?" elation. Now... nothing.
Was it because... in my pre-M.S. life, it would have been... normal? Unremarkable?
But it was remarkable. And I remark nothing.
I did get myself something to celebrate... a tiny treat, just because. Instead of indulging myself tonight, I think I'll just drink a lot of water; being able to walk to the water cooler is enough of a triumph, and enough of a celebration.
That I can still walk to the water cooler, even after walking so much that I can barely walk at all.
And that, I suppose, is enough of a triumph.
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This whole walking thing... I don't like it, any more, I get really tired, really easily. I could, I suppose, move to full-on wheelchair-bound, but I'm positive that'd be even more inconvenient than being walker-bound, so I keep walking.
Honestly? I don't know anybody with MS or another progressive disease that affects walking who, after switching to a wheelchair or scooter, hasn't said, "I wish I had done this earlier."
Instead of using all your energy to get where you're going, a wheelchair (and I'm talking here about an appropriate, properly fitted chair, not some piece of junk depot chair) lets you save that energy to do whatever it is you went there to do.
And using a wheelchair isn't binary. If you have one, you can decide when to roll, and when to walk.
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