bath-seat When I first began speaking with an occupational therapist about what sort of equipment I might need as my condition progressed, I was very stubborn, and resistant to all her recommendations.

Obviously, if I needed these things, then I was really sick, and I’d have to accept that.
I realized that logic was like saying “If I don’t buy Advil, I’ll never get a headache”, and gradually started to welcome these various mobility and life assists.

Now I see them as a way to make mine, and Mike’s, life easier, more enjoyable, and a way to reserve my energy for the things I want to do. And sometimes, just sometimes, they can be like a magic carpet, taking me anywhere I want to go.

Nonet doubled: Transported

Sliding carefully, chair to bath seat.
Clumsily, I swing atrophied
legs over tub side, failing
balance threatens a dunk.
Positioned safely,
my eyes close and
I perch, sigh…
remote
still

there.
My legs
at dock’s edge
splash lazily,
easily. Leaning
back, the sun’s warmth comforts,
Across the lake, deer drink, but
I must go before bath cools down.
It’s okay. The lake is always there.

Advertisements