In the mornings I have learned to get myself out of bed.

From there I wheel myself over to find clothes for the day.

One arm in, the second arm in, and then I stick my head through….shirt on.

One leg in, the second leg struggled but in….and what.

The pants are undone and I have to wake up my husband to help me.

“Honey, please get up.” On this weekend day you don’t want to get up, you really want to just roll over and sleep in.

He wakes up.

I sit patiently with my pants still undone and only pulled to my knees while he stretches and scratches.

Then he stands close so I can stand up.  He does all the buttons and zippers while I’m up.

Then we hug.

For the only time that’s convenient, we press close.

Me with one leg on the floor, and him with his two we can hug for those precious seconds like nothing is wrong.

Then I go back to the wheelchair.

To reality.

I haven’t been inside my shower since November 2009.  Today I sat outside the door and looked in.

Shampoo was still in the same place.  So was the razor for shaving your chin (or legs, depending who you are).  Ready for use was the bath soap, the adult kind, not the kid’s.

No one would ever know that it’s a place full of fears.

What if I fall?

What if I slip?

What if it causes me more pain in my eye?

Perspective changes when you only have one arm to work with.

Do I choose to wash myself? Or do I hold myself up. How do I pull myself in? Is there a way to pull yourself out?

I dare you to get naked (heh), tie one arm where you can’t use it, then wash your hair.  Did I tell you to hop on one foot?

You have to think of all of these things and you’ll still forget now and then.  But there is one thing you never have, the thing you can’t forget, what you were SO used to that you have to get over….

privacy.

Someone will always have to be there.  You can never be alone.

Even if you wanted.

There is this place in my house that will give me a great view.

I can see incoming traffic and the cute lawn guys.

Every day I get the best look at the new plants by my driveway and the kids riding their bikes back and forth.

Then the weather will get hot.  Kids will start to play in sprinklers. They want the fun that can only the backyard can bring.

The backyard that I can’t get to….or see.

I have to be happy for their good time.  Of course I smile when they do.  Those little stinkers will spread their fun around.

I know, STINKERS…yeah, yeah, I still love ‘em.

I have these limitations, things I have to work around or through.

But when it’s my own backyard….it suck.

Total Suckage.

We watch while there are changes here and there.

An arm movement here….a leg moving there…a boob can be be grabbed all the time, apparently.

But it can be hard for me to always see the differences.

I see my face and body everyday.

So when a friend comes that has been here every few months it is easy for them to tell me how I’ve changed.

She will tell me when my eyes used to be closed all the time.

She told about how I started to talk.

We both talked about the first visit I remember.

We’ll remember this as the visit where we were both in my home.

And she could watch my arm start moving and see my leg doing its thing.

It was another visit of big changes and adjustments.

She and I shared a hug when she left.  I hope that she can come again this summer with her kids.

We both hope its the visit where I walk.