Adventure Time

I have surgery this coming Monday to remove some bone in my right hip that Dr. Dahners thinks may be impacting my range of motion.

In recent days, I have been thinking that range of motion is not my only problem in that hip.  I also have a lot of pain, and it's possible that the pain is not caused by the same bone that is causing the range of motion issues.  Unfortunately, I don't know what is actually going on in there because when I met with Dr. Dahners a week ago, I failed to ask to see the CT scan myself.  Before they cut on me for the 3rd time, I'd like to ask an intelligent question or two about what they are going to cut and what they will leave.  But I can't do that unless I can see the CT scan.

I can get a copy of the CT scan at the hospital.  I just have to get there.  I don't know many people who can help me during a work day.  Tobi was at orientation for a college course she is starting, Gus was helping a neighbor with something all day yesterday so I found myself with an entire day to kill and only one thing I really wanted to do.

I have car I can drive.  There isn't a step in the process I haven't done before.  The more I thought about it, the more excited I got.  Eventually I realized that if I didn't try it, I would regret it.  And so I decided it was time to have an adventure.

First I had to plan.  What are the steps in the plan, and what can go wrong?

1.) Transfer into the car in my parking garage.  First I have to get to the car.  As long as my neighbor is at work, I should be able to get to the driver's door.  I've done a ton of car transfers.  They aren't the easiest, but I think I'm getting pretty good at them by now.  I have to get the wheelchair parts in.  I've proven a couple times that I can do it.  It's really hard, and one of the pieces could roll away where I can't reach it.  If that happens, I'll have to call somebody to come fetch it.  I don't really think that will happen, but I have the number of the Palmisanos across the hall.  They're elderly, but they could probably come wrangle a wheel if I screw up badly enough.  I will also need to check the fuel level.  As long as it's more than a quarter of a tank, I should be fine, but I'm not going to want to take it to a gas station.  That would require an extra pair of car transfers, and I'm not even sure I have the skills to pump gas yet.  That would be a deal breaker.

2.) Drive to the hospital.  It's about a half-hour on the road.  It's the middle of the day so there shouldn't be much traffic.  After trying them out, I'm not really worried about the hand controls.  They are pretty easy to use and pretty intuitive.  I'm slightly concerned that I still have Cullen's license plate on the car, but I can put my new tag in my backpack in case there is a problem.  But there shouldn't be a problem.

3.) Park at the hospital.  There is a handicapped parking lot right in front of the hospital, but I don't think most of the parking spaces have access reserved on the sides of the car.  That makes it fairly useless for me so I'll probably have to park in the parking garage.  The handicapped parking spaces in the garage should be level so transferring out of the car should be about as easy as it gets.  And there are always a ton of people around so if I get in trouble, I can probably flag down a pedestrian.

4.) Roll into the hospital.  I've been in the hospital many times so the only obstacle I'm worried about is the bridge from the garage to the hospital.  It is sloped, and while getting down it is easy, it might be too steep to get back up.  But again, there are always a ton of people around, and people who are generally sympathetic to people in wheelchairs, so I bet somebody will offer help before I get desperate enough to ask.

5.) Return home.  The return trip should just be the reverse of what I've already done.

6.) Park at home.  Depending on what time I get home, my neighbor could be home from work with his car occupying the parking space that I need to use to disembark.  But if that happens, there are some handicapped spaces near the building that I can use.  That shouldn't be a problem.

Once I broke it down into steps, it seemed even more doable.  I knew I would get physically tired from the car transfers, but there should only be 4 of them and I had all day to do them.  When I got home, I could sleep for the rest of the day.

By the time I had formulated my plan and packed up the pills and supplies I might need for a long outing, it was 11:00.  Still plenty of time.  The weather was excellent, and I was excited to get started.  It was the most exciting thing I'd done in a long time.

When I got to the parking garage, I was relieved to see that my neighbor's car was gone so I could access the door.

I put the keys and my phone in the map pocket on the door as I usually do when getting into a car, and I tossed my backpack in.  The transfer into the driver's seat went fine.  Once I got in, I started the car to check the fuel level.  It was less than 1/8th of a tank.  Not nearly enough to make the trip.  But I had spent too much time mentally preparing for an adventure, and I'm a problem solver.  I wasn't ready for the adventure to end before it started.

So I came up with a plan.  I would ask Mr. Palmisano, my elderly neighbor, to ride with me to the gas station across the street and pump my gas.  I'm not even sure the Palmisanos are home, and this request seems like something best explained in person, so I decided to just roll back upstairs and knock on the door.

So I transferred back to the wheelchair.  Midway through the transfer, I realized something wasn't right.  I had lost momentum halfway between the car seat and the chair seat, and found myself stopped directly in between.  I tried again to muscle myself at least partway onto the wheelchair seat which is how a lot of my sloppier transfers end, but for some reason I couldn't get any closer.  I looked down to see if I could figure out what was hanging me up, and... shit.  My left knee was hopelessly jammed in between the front legs of the wheelchair.  I tried to go backwards into the car, but the hand holds I had chosen meant I couldn't push that direction.  I couldn't go forward, and I couldn't go back. It took me a long moment to accept it, but I was going down.

Since my injury over a year ago, I have never fallen out of the wheelchair.  That's good because I don't have the skills or the strength to transfer off the floor.  I haven't even tried it since rehab.  I had always assumed that my first fall would be in my apartment, but that would not be the case.

I was still dangling, mid-transfer, between the car and the chair, but I knew I couldn't stay there for long.  My strength was going to give out any second, and I thought I should probably try to lower myself as gently as possible before weakness dictated an uglier landing.  My biggest concern was the awkward position of my left leg.  I was going to end up sitting on it while it was tangled up in the wheelchair.  I was hoping the position wouldn't be so awkward that I would injure it when my weight came down, but there wasn't really anything I could do about it so I just tried to make sure it happened slowly.

When I got to the ground, it seemed like my left leg wasn't too awkward underneath me, but I was still sitting on my bare ankle which was directly on some very abrasive concrete.  My right foot was still in the car which was probably more awkward than the left leg.  Fortunately I had saved enough strength that I was able to wiggle myself out of the chair and get my right foot free of the car.

If you're looking for something unpleasant to do, try rolling around on the ground in a parking lot.  At least the concrete was dry and relatively clean.  It would have been really unpleasant in a McDonald's lot.  Imagine if there was broken glass or a spilled milk shake.

After all my struggling, I found myself seated on the ground next to my car.  This scenario was not something I had planned for.  I was not supposed to screw up a simple car transfer.

The parking garage was empty.  Fortunately the map pocket where I put my phone was within reach, so I could call for help, but who to call?  I needed was somebody who could physically lift me up and put me in the wheelchair.  The Palmisanos were never going to manage it.  Pretty much everyone I know was at work, and even if I could find somebody to come get me, it would probably take them at least 15 minutes to arrive, and that's if they could drop what they were doing.  Mosquitoes swarm in my building's parking deck, and I wondered if I would have any blood left by the time someone got to me.

Then I had an epiphany.  I recently made friends with the maintenance guy that works in the complex.  He's friendly and strong, and he has a golf cart so he can get here quickly.  So I called Katie at the front office and explained the situation, and she radioed Brett, and he arrived in seconds.

So my adventure did not end the way I had hoped, but if you know how it's going to turn out, it's not really an adventure, is it?  I don't regret it at all.  What did I get out of it, you ask?

• Excitement!  It felt really good to be really excited about something.  And when things didn't go right, that was exciting too.
• Pride.  I'm pretty proud of myself for figuring out a solution to my problem.
• Knowledge.  I learned that I'm not quite ready to drive on my own.  I learned a good way to really screw up a car transfer, and I doubt I'll make that same mistake again.
• Confidence.  It seems counter-intuitive, but I tried something, it went very wrong, and I survived.  Maybe I should try more stuff.
• Interesting stuff to write about.  Usually I have to force myself to write a blog entry.  I wrote this one at 5:30 AM when I really should be sleeping.

What I did not get out of the experience is the CT scan that I wanted from the hospital.  Anybody want to take me on Friday?  Update: I have located a ride to the hospital on Friday.  Thanks, Brittany!