You Know You’ve Got CP When…

…you don’t know whether to post an “argh terrible disaster it’s all going wrong crisis.” status update or a “oh wow this just happened I rock” status update – and the two things relate to different parts of the same incident.

So it was something like 11:30pm last night. I’m on the computer and beginning to think about bed but I’m waiting for something on here to finish. I decided to leave it on and go to the loo, start getting sorted.  I’m in the hall, almost to the bathroom when something happened to my manual chair and not only wasn’t I moving but it had dropped in one corner and I was half in and half out the chair.

My powerchair is also in the hall so I try a couple of times to get myself up but I can’t. I have to ring my parents. My Dad answers and it turns out I’ve woken him up. He comes down and lets himself in and I’m really surprised that I didn’t fall out in the ten minutes it took him to get up and get here. I’m sore from having my leg in a position it doesn’t like and that triggered a ton of clonus (which I rarely have any more). Whilst I was waiting for him I’ve had a better look at my chair and I think one of the castors has snapped all the way off as it’s in a really wrong position.*

Dad tries to help me up and can’t. I say I think I’m going to have to get on the floor but he tells me no because he won’t be able to get me off the floor and we’ll have to call an ambulance. He folds my walker and manages to get it round in front of me but even with that I can’t stand – it’s too low with the way it’s fallen and I’m slipping more and more forward (and out) with every attempt.  Can’t bring me my powerchair to try to get into as it’s behind me and my hall isn’t wide enough to get it past.

It’s gonna have to be the floor. Which we’re both thinking means a call to 999.

I did a semi controlled fall to the floor. Dad grabbed my arm to help me control it as much as possible which is probably the only reason I didn’t hit my head as I suspect I don’t have enough control of my trunk otherwise.

Dad moved my manual out of the way and I started moving towards my powerchair. If my last proper fall is anything to go on I am getting a visit from the paramedics but my fixing this myself needs one proper attempt first.

I can’t crawl but I can move myself by doing a sort of rocking from side to side slither on my tummy (it’s not commando crawling)

I’m moving. This is good.

I get myself up on my knees on my first attempt leaning on the powerchair. This is even better.

Then I have a few moments knelt there trying to figure out what’s the best way of doing this. Pressing down on my cushion was my first thought but didn’t feel right.

I’m levering myself up. I’m getting more and more up and convinced that I’m going to get so far and lose it and crash down. So far I’m not really injured and I know when I do crash down it’s going to hurt. But I need to attempt this.

Only it ended with me up and twisting round and into the powerchair.

Neither Dad or I are quite sure how that happened (my last fall I was on the floor for over two hours and it took 2 people to get me up. I was covered in bruises for days after from both the fall and my failed attempts to get up).  Mum told me this morning that Dad went home and told her “she just got herself up.” She was also shocked.

I’m sat there and I’m shaky and full of adrenaline and tears and panic because that moment when you go from fine and moving to stranded and about to fall is scary as shit.  This is something that actually I need to write more about at another time.  And I feel bad because I woke my Dad.

But at the same time there’s another part of me that’s sitting there thinking “holy shit I just did a floor transfer.” and kinda wanting to grin and shout from the rooftops that I did it.  (I suspect adrenaline had a role in that and I may not be as able if it wasn’t an emergency)

*It turned out to be really bent rather than snapped. This was taken after Dad straightened it a little. the very badly bent out of shape castor on my manual wheelchair

You Know You’re A Knitter When…

… you end up sat next to a couple of people (a family) at an event. And you can tell straight away that one of them is wearing a (pretty fun) hand knit jumper.  Not only that but I was pretty sure I could tell from the look of it what yarn had been used. Because it was done in one of those varying self striping yarns in a very distinct colour way (It’s been discontinued although a quick google tells me some places still have some colours of it).

I had two balls of that exact colourway and knitted myself a scarf with it years ago.  I can see the remnant in one of my yarn boxes now and I don’t think there’s enough to do anything with.  I’m hankering to get it out though,

I checked and the mum of the family told me she had knit it for her son.  I didn’t ask her if I was right about the yarn she used.  I didn’t want her to think I was weird.

But now I’ve come home and blogged about it probably everyone reading it will think I’m weird. So perhaps I should have asked her after all.

You Know You’re a Bookworm When…

You get an email from Amazon that someone sent you a gift card.

And the message from your friend is that she was going to send flowers to say thank you but she figured reading or free spending would be more appreciated.  She didn’t need to send me something to say thank you, I didn’t expect it. Just the words were enough

I would have enjoyed having flowers. They are always a rare but nice surprise. But my friend knows me well.  I’m definitely a massive book fan and they last forever or there abouts. So I’m loving that.  Currently trying to remember when a book I’ve been looking forward to is coming out (I think it’s a week or two) and if I can wait till then to spend it. Or shall I go poking on Amazon and see what I can see?

It was a lovely surprise and made me smile.

I sometimes tell people that I don’t finish every book I start because life is too short to read bad books. Unfortunately life is also too short to read all the good books. I’m making it my goal to read as many of them as I can though! So far this year I’ve read 71. And I shall use the giftcard to buy the books that may form part of books 72 and beyond in 2014 (am aiming for 100 this year having decided that last years 140 is a feat I don’t want to aim for again).

Sarah, Thank YOU!

 

You know you’re a knitter (and a crocheter) when…

…you declutter your house and gathering (almost*) all your yarn into one place looks like this

20140604-213447.jpg

Image description: Two clear 80 litre (aka absolutely fucking huge) storage boxes side by side on my bed which has a white frame and dark purple duvet. They are full to the brim of yarn of all different colours and textures – mostly DK but some is different weights. My collection of knitting needles of various sizes is sticking out of one of the boxes. The lids aren’t on in this picture and they are so full my mum had real difficulty getting them on when she put the boxes away.

*I thought that the only yarn I’d left out was the stuff I’m using for my current crochet project and the yarn for the knitting project I might do next. But then mum and I kept sorting my bedroom and did find several (maybe 7) more full or part balls.

You Know You’re a Bookworm When…

Mum and I were wandering round Waterstones on Saturday.  We were wandering together but separately and before she went off to look at stuff I said to her not to buy anything without checking with me. That’s because lately we both seem to have bought copies of several books and that’s a bit of a waste.

So after a few minutes she hunted me down and showed me what she thought she’d get.  And I’d heard of it and wanted to read it but hadn’t got it.  It was on buy one get one half price so she was hunting for something else to go with it.  And she’d offered to buy me a book or two if they were on buy one get one half price.

She’s looking at books and I’m like that “I’ve got that on my kindle, it’s pretty good… Yeah don’t buy that I’ve got a paper copy…  You can’t buy that I’ve got that. Not read it yet but…” and so on. Probably six or seven books I did that with.

Then she’s settled on the book she really wants and a second she wants to give a go because it’s buy one half price.  And I’ve chosen a book but it’s buy one get one half price too so I’m having more of a look to see if there’s something else I’d like as well.

I reach for this book and I’m reading the back and I’m sure this is definitely the second book I want.  Then mum sees what it is and goes

“you can’t buy that, I’ve got that.”

In the end we decided to just get the book I really wanted and the book she really wanted.

You Know You’re a Book Blogger When…

…You choose books over alcohol

So. I’ve been invited to the theatre on Friday night by my lovely friend Angela. She’s organising the tickets and I’m in charge of figuring out the train.

And really, the train times kinda suck. The best way I can figure it out gets us there an hour and a half before. There is another train that gets in an hour before but I’m thinking it’ll take probably twenty minutes to get to the theatre walking/powerchairing and if we do end up doing that it’ll be after having an argument with some idiotic taxi driver which’ll you know take a while. Plus I’ll want a wee before we go into the theatre and most of all WHAT IF THE TRAIN IS LATE?! This part of the equation of what time train to get comes from the fact that I usually go to shows with my Mum and she leaves for things really early. Seriously this blog is scheduled to post at 9:30 Thursday morning. The joke in our family is that she’d be chivvying us out the door at that point if she had her way, even though the show isn’t until Friday night

Anyway I was weighing up the times. Deciding between the two trains and then figuring that as much as it feels too early I prefer the earlier train. If we end up with masses of time to kill we can always go for a drink.

Until a better idea for killing time came to me: we could go to the bookshop.

And then I got a little disappointed because we’ll definitely have time to kill coming home and the book shop will be closed.

You know you’re a book blogger when…

…you’re people watching outside a hospital whilst on patient transport and most of your thoughts revolve around the people you can see’s reading material.

Yup, I had a hospital appt yesterday.

and the patient transport took a guy from near where I live to one of the other hospitals in Oxford before taking me to the hospital ten minutes drive away and my appointment at wheelchair services (which, frankly, lets not talk about).

So I’m sat in the transport outside the hospital for I’d guess ten minutes. I sort of like to look around and see what’s what. Sometimes ideas come from that for writing.

I’m noticing they whoever designed this place obviously had a thing for bright colours. Not sure I like their choices.
The lady over is walking with the world’s largest quad stick
Oh this is where the new children’s hospital is.
Some unusual fashion choices
And such like

But most of all I’m looking at the guy slouched again a sign right across the road. He’s it an e-reader. I can’t quite figure out what sort it is though. I don’t think it’s a kindle. The thought I had was it was a kobo but then I looked again at the squared off shape and thought: old school Sony reader. You know, the ones that pre Kindle coming to the UK were all you could get.

Ok. Next most important people watching thought. He’s got his e-reader, I wonder what he’s reading. Does he look like a thriller type guy? Maybe. Not sure. He’s been there ages now, its obviously good, he hasn’t looked up.

Oh looking through the full length windows over there I can see an older woman with a book. Can’t see the title but I can see the colours of it and how thick it is. Maybe she’ll turn it…no, wrong way. Hmm those colours are a bit of an unusual combo. But, come to think of it I think the latest Sophie Kinsella paperback has that. Certainly I seem to remember the ARC I’ve got of the hardback is like that. Yeah, she’s got that reading while waiting for an appt look going on, keeps glancing up, but I could imagine her as a Sophie Kinsella fan.

Seriously no matter what else caught my eye I kept going back to those two people reading. T amused me when I realised that.

You Know You’re A Book Blogger When…

It’s 9pm Wednesday night. You’re going away for the weekend first thing Friday morning. And Thursday will be busy.

And whilst you have started getting ready all you’ve actually done is sort out your reading material. But just to be sure you’re still hunting online in case there’s anything better.

What? You mean most people pack clothes first? What’s the point of that? 😉

>You Know…

>…you have extreme symptoms when you go through them with your consultant and he stops you, checks he’s heard you right and when you confirm he has his response is “Jesus.”

Was running through my meds with the consultant at the hospital when he asked about the mefenamic acid.  I told him it’s for my periods and what they were like before I started it.

Jesus is probably about right, come to think of it.  They were pretty bad (skipping a month and then having a heavy 17 day long period was my worst ever) looking back.  Mefenamic Acid is working well though to keep the bleeding at slightly more normal levels.

The hospital appointment went well I think… but that’s the topic for another blog entry.

>You know you’re a writer when…

>…you get lost in writing and forget to have dinner

or the long version:

You know you’re a writer when you have a great idea and a fantastic title for your part of a group anthology (that we’re doing in creative writing part).  You get stuck on the how, write the beginning (takes two weeks) and then spend a week trying to figure out how to make what comes next work.  Two hours before the class you figure it out and start trying to get it down.  You do get a rough first draft done but you get so lost in the writing you don’t eat dinner.  Instead you have a quick and very small snack while running out the door.  After the class you then go to the new restaurant in town for drinks and decide to order a small glass of rose and a more substantial snack.  Which turns into them bringing you a large glass of rose (twice as big as what you ordered) and a not as substantial as expected snack.  And as you rarely drink you end up feeling kinda buzzed despite drinking water as well as wine.

It was ALL very fun though!

And the title of my piece? Unreasonable Adjustments.  The anthology is basically a starting piece that our tutor wrote and we’re all doing our own version of what happened next with our own characters.  And I’ve thrown a wheelchair user into the mix, and a setting that isn’t very wheelchair friendly.  DDA requires businesses etc to make “reasonable adjustments” so I thought Unreasonable Adjustments was the way to go.

The tutor commented at one point that not everyone has given their bit a title.  I just went “I’m not getting rid of my title, my title rocks.”