Lost the ability to control my hands... fingers would just casually curl under, which meant I couldn't place my palm on something to get a purchase of any kind.
About 2-ish AM, somehow managed to get into the bathroom for a quick cath-ing, but then, trying to make it all the way back to the wheelchair, I couldn't raise my knees up high enough to free my feet from the floor, where they seemed to be quite stuck (friction, not stickiness). Somehow made it back into the wheelchair, somehow made it back into the bed.
Earlier that night, I was so unable to control anything and slid out of the wheelchair onto the floor, from which thank God my wife was able to free me and put me back into the bed.
I was mired in a sea of "I can't do anything." Yeah, I've heard it before, don't say "can't," to which I want to reply "YOU try driving this body around at this particular moment, and you'll understand what 'can't' really means."
5-ish AM Morning Cath jaunt... transfer from the bed to the chair, "walk" from the chair to the commode, cath with no problem (yesterday, there was a time I had so little hand control that I couldn't lube my catheter without assistance), "walk" back to the chair, transfer back to the bed. No problem! Problems? What problems?
Yesterday was hell. Today is what nowadays passes for normal. But, at least, it passes for "functional." It's certainly "normal enough" for all practical purposes.
Now, yeah, I know that we who have chosen this incarnation have enough issues to deal with already, man that is born of woman hath but a short time to live and is full of misery and all that. But, WTF? WTFingF?
I know Neurological Nonsense, however it is expressed, is always a moving target... but c'mon, really? Really?
As one of my former students said, while pointing at an architectural oddity...
What's up with that?
Someone on FB has a picture of, maybe it might have been Krishnamurti, who said "I got a lot happier when I stopped minding what happened."
Well, I want to get out of my chair and into the bathroom, and out of the bathroom back into my chair, and from my chair back into the bed.
And if I can't (screw you, sometimes I actually, observably can't), I mind.
That, I definitely mind. I can't empty my bladder without a catheter, that I don't mind. I've been having bowel issues and sometimes need suppositories to "shake things up" enough to get them moving. That, I don't mind.
But I can't get comfortable in the bed? I can't get out of my wheelchair into the bed?
That... I mind.
Attachment is an insidious thing. This journey along the Neurological Way has certainly shown me all sorts of hidden, nasty, attachments. The teaching of which I have welcomed, and still seek ways to free myself.
But getting into bed? Getting into a position, in the bed, that will reduce rather than exacerbate a headache? Getting into and out of the bathroom so I can not die from the urine in an unemptied bladder frying my kidneys?
Yup. I'm attached.
Wonder what the Buddha would say about that?
As they said in the Legend of the Rangers, "We live for the One, we die for the One... but we don't die stupid."
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