Don’t worry, this post is still G-rated, but the more I thought about how to go about this, the more I wanted to give you a better understanding of what a day in the life of Mel can present. Not that I am special; I just require a new format of special needs in certain areas of daily life.
I’ve talked about things before, especially during last Fall’s sessions of Occupational Therapy. A few: I have fancy big pens I use for “writing,” special handles on my silverware, plastic tableware to eat from rather than heavy plates and bowls, reusable straws to help when I drink, a shower chair and Dad attached a new, secure handle for me when I get in and out of the shower.
Out of all the additions, there is one–probably most significant–that I neglected in thankfulness and took for granted. Until I could not physically function on my own. Truly, if it were not this past weekend’s experience, I would still be living in the same denial of this helping hand: raised handles on my toilet seat.
It’s like anywhere else I sit–the couch, kitchen table or ca seat, I cannot physically stand without the use of my upper body and arms pushing against something. My legs and ankles are on the down-slide, but the fact I still get out of bed on my own each day is a miracle in itself.
So this past weekend, I find myself in a predicament: the toilet is too low to the floor and is next to the bathtub, unlike most others where it is near a wall or the sink/counter. The tub is about the same height at the toilet…too low to push from and my walker handles are too high. I am stuck. Humiliating and humbling, every time that I used the restroom, either my Mom or sister had to help me stand.
You know, I’ve been to Greece. At Phillipi, most of the ruins were still in good form: doors, stairs and walls of the First-century era. The main city entry and stone are original, making it slippery. We saw the amphitheater, the gladiator entries, and the hole in the ground that they termed as a prison. And we saw the public restrooms–
We’ve come a long way from this picture–much to be thankful for in privacy and patience. But this is what my life with NF2 is becoming: a special need that could one day require more assistance apart from my family’s helping hands. For now, there are no words I can express to my family for their sacrifices in those needs; and there are no words I can express to God for providing in those needs. It is learning humbleness, that I see the Love of God shine in others…and it’s contagious.
2 responses to “Privacy, Patience, Public Restrooms”
It is strange when you find yourself needing the help of others…and is always a blessing when God sends the right person with the right solution to solve the problem…it happens a lot as you get older too. Love you dear friend.