Rolling through Dallas and Chicago

I just called American Airlines and reserved myself some wheelchair assistance for connecting between two flights. That felt weird. It's something I've never done before.

I didn't know before looking at the airline's web page, but apparently there are three flavors of mobility assistance: passenger can walk but needs help with stairs, passenger can walk but needs help due to the distance from gate to gate, passenger can't walk much if at all and needs help getting to and from the seat on the aircraft. I fall neatly into a category for the first time in my life.

I'm getting worse

I wrote about asking for wheelchair assistance in airports. I said it felt weird because I'd never done it before. I thought briefly of saying "Looking back over the last eighteen months, I probably should have." But I thought a little and I realize that's not necessarily true. Looking back over the last eighteen months, I've definitely had times when I've been better than I am today. When I went to Japan I walked a LOT. I could walk a lot. It hurt, of course; it hurt big bunches; I was never not in pain. But there's absolutely no way I could do that much walking today -- not multiple days in a row. I could, and did, back in January.

I'm getting worse. This is not good. This is very scary.

One other reason it felt weird is because I'm calling for wheelchair assistance for flying to and from a square dance convention. What's wrong with this picture? Heh! Of course, just because I'm going to the convention doesn't mean I'm able to dance much -- I'm not, not by a long shot -- and I'd like to conserve every shard of mobility for times when I *can't* get help. This, too, shows how I'm deteriorating. At other dances in the past I have only thought about whether I could take enough breaks. For this one I'm not even considering attempting to show up at every session. One session, with breaks between tips and maybe sitting some out, is my limit for a day. I don't even know if I can do that much two days in a row.

I envy people with broken legs because they heal. I envy people with conditions that are hideously uncomfortable but curable. I envy people with incurable things that don't affect fundamental stuff like standing up. I've long since quit envying healthy people. They're not even in my universe any more.

Time for a shift of focus

OK, that last post was a much-desired, somewhat overdue, and probably even necessary bout of self-pity. I do need to let the grumpy out from time to time. And yes, the facts I wrote there are true. On the other hand, there's also more to life than that. I need to learn how to live with the fact that this sucks and uncurable pain is the pits. By that I mean I want to live well, not just grit my teeth and exist for one more day. It can be done. I know it can. I've seen people far worse off than me do it.

Y'know what always,

always,

always helps me?

Doing something nice for somebody else.

Those gratitude list things are okay for a quick change of focus, but for me, shifting my gaze away from myself is a far more lasting respite. As of right now, I'm pulling my head outta where it was and looking around. It'll help me for sure, and who knows, someone else might get something out of it too. :-)