Jun 23, 2007

Today we traveled to Omaha. Gary had to get up at 5:45 in order to be ready to leave by 9. A few days earlier Gary had called David Martin, Sr. Specialist – Disabilities, Delta Airlines – that’s the guy who had “shown us the ropes” when we went on Shepherd’s airport outing – and he had suggested we park in the West lot, so that’s where we went. Luckily, just as we were driving around trying to figure out how we were going to get to the terminal from there, a porter went by with a cart. He said he’d be right back to help us. So Gary parked and I unloaded our baggage and the porter returned quickly. He loaded the baggage and led the way to the terminal. Fortunately it wasn’t too far of a push for Gary – not that it was all that close, either! The porter was very helpful, showing us how to get our boarding passes from the kiosks, and then he accompanied us to the baggage check-in. After that, Gary did an IC in the men’s washroom (while I whipped out my laptop in the women’s washroom and worked some more on my story). Next came security. Definitely not the relaxed affair it had been when we were on the outing. It was crowded, and I ended up not only being responsible for my stuff on the conveyor belt, but for Gary’s, ,and I found it frazzling to keep track of everything. It didn’t help that my carry-on had to go thru twice because I didn’t take my laptop out of it. (I have only flown twice in the past dozen years, and I forgot the laptop was supposed to go into one of those bins separately.) And the security lady asked who the 4 oz. tube of KY belonged to. Well, Gary was nowhere in sight, so I said it was with me and she said it couldn’t go thru security because it was over the 3 oz. limit. I mumbled something about thinking Gary had to declare it, then finally saw Gary and told her to talk to him. I found out later he told her it doesn’t come in any size less than 4 oz., that he needs it to do Intermittent Catheritization, and that he’d already used at least half of it, so it was under 3 oz. :-). She said okay, but I guess there’s no guarantee that that story will work in the future. I asked him later if security had made him lean forward and shift from side to side so they could check in back of and under him, as they’d told us on the airport outing they would do. They did make him lean forward so they could check behind his back. But they didn’t check under him. Worse, in terms of security, they didn’t check the pouch that is under the front of his chair and where he keeps the tools for the chair. They did, however, take out the hard copy pages of my novel that Gary brought along to read, and they ran those pages through the x-ray machine. I guess they wanted to make sure I hadn’t written anything explosive.

We got into the train all right, and although I was nervous about Gary being able to get off all right with the crush of people surrounding us, people were very nice and he had no problem. As we approached the gate, a man yelled out, “Gary?” Turned out to be someone (by name of “Alex”) sent by David Martin to see that Gary got on the plane all right. I mentioned that the hard part so far had been the getting from the car all the way through security, but of course got a “not my responsibility” smile (I’m not complaining about that). The plane was 45 minutes behind schedule. It turned out a tug had tipped in front of it (I assumed this meant a tug pulling the plane, but Gary thought it might mean that vehicle that carries baggage, so I don’t know), and that delayed matters.

It was a very small jet (“sardine can” came to mind), and we had to get on it by going out to the tarmac. Before anyone else was let on, Alex and a strongly built woman came to escort Gary and me on. Gary accepted being pushed, no doubt so we wouldn’t hold up the rest of the boarders. We took an elevator and went outside. At the plane they had a ramp set up – I don’t know if this is the set-up they would’ve had had they not been having to get Gary onto the plane. Alex wheeled Gary up the ramp. Near the top of the ramp, Gary was transferred (two-man transfer by Alex and the woman) into an aisle wheelchair, then backed into the plane. That aisle was tiny! We were supposed to be in the sixth row, but when the flight attendant asked if it’d be better if Gary was in the front seat, I thought it might be so said “yes.” We thus displaced a couple passengers, which caused a bit of confusion later – sorry about that, folks. Alex and the woman two-manned Gary into the aisle seat, which my knee greatly envied. The flight was uneventful.

We were the last ones off in Omaha, of course. This time Gary was two-manned by a rather petite woman and a young guy. Gary told the guy to hold onto his legs tighter. Gary’s wheelchair was right at the gate, so they then transferred him from the aisle wheelchair to his own chair. The young man then left and the woman accompanied us. She offered to push Gary through the terminal, but he declined. She asked if she could pull my wheeled carry-on for me, saying she didn’t feel like she was doing anything, and I said sure. I added that she could carry me if she wanted, but she evidently thought I was joking. She accompanied us first to baggage claim, and proved how strong she was by carrying all three pieces of our checked baggage (one of Gary’s was rather large and heavy, though on wheels), while I resumed pulling my carry-on. We then went to Avis rent-a-car, where Gary had already arranged for a car with hand controls, and did the paperwork. Then she hauled our baggage out to the car for us, helped load it, and helped me get his chair into the car after he transferred into the driver’s seat – which wasn’t trivial, as he hadn’t transferred into that side of a car before. The woman then said goodbye and headed off, but we called her back so we could tip her.

The acceleration on the hand controls seemed to be calibrated differently than on our van – in other words, every once in a while Gary took off like a bat out of hell, and I ended up with my bottle of spring water all over my clothes. Gary said at least that would cool me off. (I also had problems with that accelerator while driving.) He drove about halfway to his mom’s and I drove the rest – it was about a two hour drive. We first checked into the hotel, so Gary could make sure he could set everything up conveniently for bowel and bladder programs. After I’d brought everything in and he’d gotten things somewhat settled, we went to his mom’s for a while. I ended up breaking down and putting together his chair five times that evening, starting with after he transferred into the car at the Omaha airport, and I tell you, it was a hell of a lot easier and less painful before I messed my knee up.

To get into his mom’s, there are four (I think – I don’t quite remember) steps to go up. Gary’s brother Donne and Donne’s son Justin bumped Gary’s chair backwards up the steps. I wasn’t about to volunteer to help much, with this knee, but I stayed in front of him and hung onto his knees. He then turned around at the top and did a small wheelie to get over the last little step-up into the house – I chided him because he did the wheelie almost faster than I had time to get behind him and he had forgotten he didn’t have his tip bars on. I put them on immediately when we got in the house. Gary’s sister Norma and her family hadn’t arrived yet, but Donne’s family – wife Phyllis and children Carissa (a college student) and Justin (high school student) – were all there, as well as Gary’s brother Bob and of course his mom.

We talked of this and that for a while: our trips here, what Gary’s been up to lately, pet stories (Donne’s cat has him even better trained than ours do us, waking him up every day between 2 and 4 am to be let out, this having gone on for eight years I believe he said; everyone else in his family hears the cat scratching at the door, but they all wait for Donne to see to kitty’s needs). When we went to leave, Donne bumped Gary down the stairs – he said that was a lot easier than going up them! We got back to the hotel about 9:30. I had lost track of time and couldn’t believe it was that late. Fortunately Gary skipped taking a bath, but as it was he wasn’t ready for me to make a last check of him until close to 11 (we were pleased to note the trip didn’t seem to have had any detrimental effects on his flap). I hadn’t had time to fit in a hot bath before then, so I took it then. Then I put an ice pack on my knee, another one under my butt, and a heating pad under my back. Fog rolled through the room as a result. (Just kidding.) A short time before going to bed I had tried to pull the curtains closed, but they didn’t budge. So I put on an eye mask and then I put a pillow over my eyes, but I still knew that light was out there. Between that and the elephants that had evidently moved from Shepherd to here, my sleep wasn’t all that great so what else is new. I of course shot awake at 4 thinking Gary was calling (he wasn’t) and the last person in my hotel room had set the alarm clock for 6, so just about when I’d finally gotten back to sleep that woke me up. I drowsed some more until Gary called me on the walkie talkie about 9.

He then informed me there were some inner curtains that could be pulled in order to shut the light out (peg crosses eyes).

I spent a while working on the blog and stuff, and around noon we met the others for lunch at a buffet in town. After that, Gary and I did a little shopping, the list being zukes, bottled water, and antibacterial wipes. We were a little worried when the grocery store didn’t have the wipes, but the nearby WalGreens did.

We returned to Gary’s mom’s, and as Donne and Justin went to bump Gary up the stairs, Donne noticed the handle on the back of Gary’s chair seemed loose. And then it pulled right out. A screw had evidently sheared right off at some point in time. At least that didn’t happen AS Donne was pulling on it to get Gary up the stairs – that could’ve been a very serious problem (as in, control could’ve been lost of the chair and Gary could’ve gone tumbling down the steps). Without that handle, it was harder to get Gary up the stairs, though Donne thinks he’s figured out a better technique to try next time. Gary will have to call his supplier on Monday and perhaps have a new screw Fed-Exed here so we can put it on, assuming we can get at the place where it needs to go. So tonight when Gary gets out of his chair we will have to look at it and see if the back removes easily. It looked to me like it did, but I’m not sure.

A little while later, the Norma and Wayne and their kids Megan (just graduated high school) and David (in the military) arrived. At some point the talk turned to needing to decide just what Mom Gruenhage was going to take with her and what would be auctioned off and what would be thrown out (helping her with this move – she is moving to the new place on Tuesday – is the ostensible reason for the gathering of the family at this time). The others, I believe, convinced Mom Gruenhage that throwing the pistols in the trash was not the proper way to dispose of them. Who knew?

Jun 19, 2007

Let’s try that again . . . .

Gary wanted to try the floor-to-futon transfer again. This time I started off like we had done at Shepherd – I put my hand under his chest and kept it there, giving him support, until he had gotten from the wheelchair to the floor (I couldn’t get down on my knees like at Shepherd, but stayed in a crouch). He “complained” I gave him too much support, but hey, I didn’t want him to bonk himself on the head again. I did let him do all the rest by himself, the getting himself up on his knees by pulling on the futon and pulling himself up onto the futon. He did notice my lack of help then, saying it was much harder this time than last, but he did it! He was delighted by that.

Jun 21, 2007

Gary remarked that it was just about a year since he last saw family. He said hopefully they’ll think he looks in better shape. Presumably they will. He was still being hoyered at the time, not having yet having learned or being strong enough to transfer out of bed by himself. And a short wheel down the hall would tire him out.

I reviewed my notes on last July’s blog about Shepherd’s airport outing. I also went on the TSA site to look at the prohibited items list – my last airplane flight was several years ago. I learned I’ll have to leave my brass knuckles at home (I use them to keep Gary in line). And that I’d better not make any jokes about terrorism.

Jun 17, 2007

Oops!

In the evening Gary decided to practice a floor-to-futon transfer before starting his stretching. “Let me know if you want help,” I called from my bedroom (where I was of course working on my story). “I will,” he replied. Next thing I hear is him making noises indicating something definitely did not go as planned. I ran out to the living room to find him on the floor on his side with a little blood on his forehead and nose. I made sure he was reasonably okay, and then he told me that in getting down from the wheelchair by leaning forward and walking on his hands along the floor his body dropped too fast for his hands to keep up with and he hit the floor with his head. Ouch. I got some skin wound cleanser and cleaned off the blood and stuck a band-aid on his forehead vertically because it was a long cut, then he was ready to try to get on the futon. My goal was to help him as little as reasonable, because the last time he made this transfer, after accidently falling, I had strained my back a little in trying to get him up. I am afraid I am less able to help him than before I tore my meniscus, so it’s a good thing he doesn’t need my help as much as he used to. This time I just kept his butt in place since his position caused gravity to want to topple him to the side, but I did no lifting. As a result, he had to exert more effort than that last time, but he got up on the futon successfully. I then reviewed in the blog I had written last December that when he/we had practiced getting from the wheelchair to the floor, I had knelt next to him and kept my hand under his chest and walked on my knees as fast as I could next to him exactly in order that he not hit his head on the floor. Oh, well. Since he had gone down smoothly when he accidently ended up on the floor, he hadn’t expected it to be a problem this time.

So now he has “road burn” on his forehead and nose. Great, just in time for our trip to Nebraska. Hopefully it will heal enough so his mom doesn’t think I’ve been derelict in my duty ;-). Gary assured me she would know it isn’t possible to always protect a person who would ski off a barn when a kid.

Jun 15-16, 2007

After a seminar presentation by Michel on Friday, Gary and Michel went out for a beer. Gary didn’t know how he was going to get into the place since from what he remembered it had a sunken floor. Turned out to be accessible. He wheeled into a box-like cage, which lowered him to the level of the restaurant. Almost. The front “flap” of the cage folded down and he had to wheel down that to get to the restaurant. He said the angle of that flap was pretty steep, though, and he needed a running start to get back up it when leaving the restaurant.

On Saturday he recounted how much progress he’s made in being independent in taking a shower. Now all I do is turn on his bedroom light for him in the morning and put down the side rail of his bed and hand him his crocs (shower shoes) – I wouldn’t have to do the last if he’d remember to put the shoes on his bedside table the night before ;-). He intends to “graduate” to a double bed this summer, so soon I probably won’t have to be lowering the rails. I think I have heard of “clap on” lights, and if those are something useful, maybe he wouldn’t need me for turning the light on for him in the morning, either, if we ever get those.

So, this is quite different from those beginning shower days, when I would turn on the light, bring him breakfast in bed because the shower process took so long he would perish from hunger if he had to wait to eat until he was done with the shower, lower the rail, put his shoes on him, help him with his naked transfer between the bed and the wheelchair using the transfer board, help him make his transfer to the shower bench (“Hips or butt?” used to be my question to him, asking whether he wanted me to put my hands on his hips or under his butt in helping him transfer from one surface to the other), wash and dry his legs and feet for him, help him with his transfer back to his wheelchair, struggle to put those damn thigh-high t.e.d. hose on him, moan and groan in getting his abdominal binder on him, toss him from side to side and help him get his pants on him.

Jun 13, 2007

At the student activities building gym they have gotten new equipment – hand cycles. Gary used one for the first time today, and he says it was tough, perhaps partly because he did it after the weight training. He could only go for six minutes on it. He said it reminded him of when he’d had to do it at Shepherd, and it had been so difficult for him. I said I remembered that – his tongue was always hanging out after each interval on it. (The hand cycle is more tiring than a bicycle because of the less muscle mass of the arms.)

The other day when I was backing my car out the driveway to go to a flat area to do a short walk, I saw Gary start to wheel down the drive. He had commented to me a few days earlier that he hadn’t attempted to go partway down the drive for a long time, at least since last Day Program in December. I wondered if I should stay at the bottom of the drive, but he didn’t wave to me or anything, so I decided to go for a 15-minute walk and scrape him up off the street when I came back ;-). No need to worry – he didn’t attempt to go down the steepest part of the drive by himself. He said he went as far as he’d gone with me before, but it was still too scary to attempt to go any farther. He said he would first attempt to go up it before he would go down it, since uphill would be the easier direction. I said, “What do you mean? Downhill is easier – you just let go!” We then joked about him going flying down the street, since it is downhill all the way; he said I would have to scrape him off the lawn at the end of the street (our street has a T-intersection with the next one), because he wouldn’t be able to do a wheelie to get up the curb. I told my massage therapist this, and she pointed out that if he hung a left there, he could keep going because it was still downhill. I realized he could then make a right onto the next street, then a left, then another left, until he would finally hit an uphill part, at which point he could go back and forth, back and forth, like a pendulum winding down. He said that unfortunately he would then have a long upward trek back home – assuming he hadn’t crashed well before then.

In about 10 days we are flying to his mom’s. A wheelchair-accessible van proved to be too expensive and inconveniently located for us to rent (plus it wouldn’t be modified for him to drive). So we are renting a modified car. I plan on corralling anyone I can to put his wheelchair into and out of the car for me, since I am worried about how I can get it in myself without hurting my back and/or knee. I already mailed to his mom’s house a few boxes of things I would need, and Gary mailed some medical supplies.

We have finally gotten around to watching last year’s TV program “24,” which we had started but not finished before Gary’s accident. Gary said he remembers that the first day of his accident, when he found out he was going to be paralyzed, he tried to tally up all he would still be able to do. He said one of the first things he thought of was that he’d still be able to watch “24”! I remember him being very concerned about that, and when I said something about it on the blog – or actually, I don’t think I had started the blog then, it was all done in emails – anyway, Gary’s brother Bob and Jim from my critique group both arranged to tape it for us. We are now enjoying it as much if not more than we did the first time around. Even though we’ve seen the part we are watching now, the tension is no less (perhaps helped by our bad memories ;-)). In fact, since we know some of how the plot plays out, we can appreciate the intricacies. As Gary says, the show is certainly well-written, something always happening!

After saying that, Gary then said something that made me feel great – he said he hoped they make my novel into a movie, that he thinks it would be a really good one. I’m afraid I think the odds of that very slim (heck, I will be ecstatic if it even gets published (heck, if it even makes it through my critique group ;-))), but it was wonderful to hear. But he has a long way to go before he is finished reading my novel, and since I am the insecure type when it comes to my fiction writing (among other things), I am still waiting for the axe to fall. I will momentarily indulge in the good feeling his words cause me now but won’t get too happy this prematurely – just in case at some point he doesn’t like the direction the novel takes.

Jun 8, 2007

Wheelchairs and semis don’t mix:

http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20070608/ap_on_fe_st/odd_wheelchair_truck_ride

Jun 6, 2007

Forgot to mention, went with Gary to the eye doctor yesterday. Everything went fine – he was able to transfer into and out of the examination chair by himself. The only thing he needed me for was I had to tell the doctor his rolling chair was on Gary’s foot and would he please move it off!

Gary has been concerned about the pressure in his eyes – evidently there has been problems with that in his family – but his pressure was lower than it’s been for several years. He guesses this is perhaps due to his spinal cord injury, since due to it his blood pressure is lower than it used to be.

We started a new movie tonight – “The Aviator,” about Howard Hughes. The beginning part of the movie deals with Hughes making his movie, “Hell’s Angels.” Hughes wants every detail right, hires a meterologist to find him the clouds he wants, rebuilds the planes so they’re perfect, shoots reel after reel. When they think they’re done with the movie, two years into the project, “talkies” debut, and Hughes re-shoots his entire movie, taking another two years. Evidently the press mocked him throughout this, at one point saying Hughes should just show what he’s got and debut the first 560-hour movie. At this point, Gary remarked, “This whole thing reminds me of your novel.” Smart aleck.

Thrills and Spills.

Jun 2, 2007

“Look at me!” Gary cried. I looked up from where I was lying on my bed using my laptop to see Gary wheeling up to my bedroom door naked. No, he didn’t want me to admire his guns (biceps), but I knew immediately what he was crowing about. He had been in the shower, and the fact that he was now out meant he had done the shower transfer not only without me sitting close by watching but without even telling me. Actually, I had thought him capable of doing so quite some time ago (the only “mistake” he makes on that transfer lately is that he occasionally hits his head on the shower wall because it is so close), but evidently this was the first time he was willing to do it on his own.

So now he can do on his own all the transfers that he normally has to do in the course of a week!

This is not to say that there won’t be the occasional mishap. For instance, what happened this evening, June 5th. We finished our recreation time, during which we watched some of the movie “Murderball” while Gary did his stretching and I did my knee therapy, and then I went to take a bath. While I was running the water, I heard Gary yell out my name. I went running into the living room and found him on the floor instead of in his wheelchair. Well, I guess they warned us this would happen sooner or later. He said that while he was doing his transfer from the futon to his wheelchair something about it felt off, but he thought it would be okay. Obviously it wasn’t. Fortunately he fell slowly, so he says, and he doesn’t think he hurt anything. I was worried at first, thinking how was I ever going to help him get back in the chair, because a) we haven’t practiced a floor-to-wheelchair transfer since Day Program, and worse, b) my knee is most likely too screwed up to be able to help him like I did then. Fortunately both he and I quickly realized that the way to go would be to get him back onto the futon. This actually went fairly easily, similar to the floor-to-platform transfers we practiced at Day Program. Due to my nervousness about the situation, I probably gave him more help than he needed. In fact, he probably could’ve done it entirely on his own. He says he is going to practice it some more this summer. He says that for him to be comfortable traveling alone, he would need to be able to make a floor-to-bed transfer on his own. I told him I wasn’t so sure he wouldn’t want to be able to do a floor to wheelchair transfer on his own since there won’t always be a bed convenient.

Anyway, as he said when he was back on the futon, “Well, that was exciting.” He said he was glad it had happened, actually, because it gave him the confidence that he can handle a situation like that.

Speaking of “Murderball,” it is a very good documentary about quad rugby, which originally really was called “Murderball,” and when you see these guys racing around on the court in their Mad Max wheelchairs, you know why – one of the strategies is to knock your opponent’s chair over (I told Gary not to get any ideas about competing in a sport similar to it! I am absolutely sure they didn’t play anywhere near that rough at the recent quad rugby sessions at the Adventure Skills Workshop; next year we’ll have to stay in the evening to watch a little bit of it). The documentary mainly focuses on Team USA and the few seasons up to and including the Athens 2004 ParaOlympics. It wasn’t purely about the sport action (fortunately); in fact it was more about the people – it interwove the lives of the players and one of the coaches (formerly a Team USA player who became embittered after being cut for the team and went on to become the Team Canada coach, handing the USA its first ever losses) – it goes into a little bit about what their lives were like before the accident, how they learned to cope and excel. Gary’s one disappointment about the documentary was they show a quad getting his trousers on while sitting in the chair, but they stop showing it at the point where he gets them up to his butt – Gary wanted to see him get them all the way on to see if he could pick up any pointers! (This is another thing he hasn’t practiced since Day Program; so little time, so much to do). We also thought it strange that they seemed to indicate that quads have no problems with their sex lives, that at most only an adjustment in position is all that’s needed. True, these guys were all “incompletes,” but the feeling both Gary and I got from Shepherd was that even in that case sexual functioning was not a given (seeing that these were all fairly young guys – and I think it’s safe to say “macho” guys – on the rugby team, it was a major concern for them).

On a completely different topic, our next adventure will be our trip to Nebraska in a few weeks to Gary’s mom’s. The entire clan is going to be there – all the brothers and sister and nieces and nephews. I am hoping my knee isn’t going to be a problem. I confess to being worried about getting our luggage there and about transportation. Gary found out we could rent a wheelchair-accessible van that I would have to drive (the longest distance being the two hour drive between the airport and his mom’s home), or a car that has been modified so he could drive it, but then I would have to put his wheelchair in it (and put it back together again). Unfortunately, dammit, I just can’t bend my knee without significant pain, and I don’t know how I could lift his chair in and out of a car.