I have a category of stories I call “Someday I’ll laugh about this.” I think I’m ready for this one now.
It’s no secret that I’m handicapped. To function in my house, I use a cane or walker. Away from home, I’m usually in my wheelchair.
I awakened one night at 4 a.m. and went in my bathroom. As I stood at the sink, suddenly my less-than-cooperative legs simply went out from under me. One minute I’m standing; the next I’m like a turtle up-dumped on his shell.
You get a whole new perspective lying on your bathroom linoleum at 4 a.m.
A quick inventory left me pretty certain that I hadn’t broken anything.
My best chance to get myself up, I thought, was to flip over on my stomach and slide to one of the grab bars on the wall.
My plan didn’t work. I couldn’t pull myself up.
At this point, I DID laugh. What a predicament!
The closest phone was in the family room. A long journey loomed ahead.
Picture swimming without water, and you’ll get the image of me inching my way over the linoleum to the hallway. The wool rug there is not “skin friendly” and I had approximately 8 feet to go to reach the family room doorway.
The family room was no better. Berber carpeting, while durable, also totally lacks “crawl-ability.”
I could read the clock by the night light: 5:15 a.m.
It had taken me over an hour to slither about 20 feet. I developed a new respect for snakes.
Six feet remained to reach the Tracfone on my work table. As I passed the magazine rack, I grabbed my bamboo back scratcher and used it to fish the Tracfone down.
I called my friend Joe, who came immediately. We still couldn’t get me up.
He phoned the fire hall and requested a “lift assist.” Apparently geezers like me hitting floors is a fairly common occurrence.
Once the ambulance crew agreed that I was OK, they spread a hammock-like tarp next to me and had me roll onto it.
I shut my eyes as they lifted me. I peeked once while in the air and made a mental note to Swiffer the ceiling fan paddles. The men plunked me in my lift chair where I stayed most of the next two days.
I felt like I’d been hit by a bus. I needed a 55-gallon drum of Neosporin for my brush burns.
My Tracfone has been with me ever since that night, in my pocket or somewhere beside me.
Right now, shoppers need Christmas gift ideas for senior relatives and friends. Here’s a suggestion: Pass on the Chia Pets and a Clapper. A prepaid cell phone is an inexpensive step toward security for your loved one.
And a step beats a crawl. Trust me.
Michele Mikesic Bender is a Johnstown resident and a member of The Tribune-Democrat’s Readership Advisory Committee.
Michele Bender
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Discussion
MICHELE M. BENDER | I can laugh about it now ...
- Michele Bender
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MICHELE BENDER | Old enough to know better
Sing along …
“Happy Birthday once more, I just turned sixty-four.” -
The beat goes on
In 1957, my stage-struck mom took my friend Jere and me to see the movie “South Pacific.” It featured awesome scenery, colorful costumes, catchy show tunes and unforgettable characters. It rolled the best of stage and cinema into one package. We were hooked!
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MICHELE BENDER | Springing into action for Easter
Happy Easter!
People expect certain routines at specific holidays.
They count on fireworks and sparklers on July 4.
Easter demands a basket of colorful eggs and candy. -
MICHELE M. BENDER | Dream a shorter dream
Denise stopped by and caught me napping. “How can you sleep with that bright light on?” she asked.
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MICHELE M. BENDER | Wedding wackiness
February brings bridal fairs. Bargain-hunting grooms prowl Valentine ring sales, while brides-to-be lose all touch with reality.
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MICHELE BENDER | It was hit or miss
Did you know they still crown a “Miss America” every year?
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MICHELE BENDER | Cat-titude creates cat-tastrophes
I often receive feedback from readers. In 2011, my friend Rick said he read my Christmas column to his kids, and they were concerned about the fate of Miss Kitty.
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MICHELE M. BENDER | Every elf for himself
I’ve never been much of a shopper, even at Christmas. I’m certainly not one who’d stand in an icy, dark parking lot at 4 a.m. with some bunch of wingnuts waiting to purchase a Cabbage Patch doll.
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MICHELE BENDER | It’s hard to zest a plastic lemon
At Thanksgiving, we count our blessings and express gratitude. You readers can be thankful that I’ve never invited you to dinner.
Some folks have eaten at my house and gone on to live healthy, normal lives. Others, however, tell frightening tales of grisly inedibility. Savory and usually recognizable holiday dishes have emerged looking like weasel intestines and tasting worse. -
MICHELE BENDER | Let’s see a big smile
I confess! I’m a “floss-aholic.” I buy flosser pics (little plastic pics with floss stretched on one end) and keep them in the drawer beside me. I floss after eating anything.
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