I can manage without being able to walk; for the most part I
can get where I am going. I can deal with my limited hand function; I can do
most of what I need to do. I can even cope, most of the time, with speaking Glenda-ish.
But, what I have yet to handle is the way my body reacts to
heat. Once the temperature hits 28, although I try holding out until 30c, I
melt. Literally. My four limbs become four heavy, wet noodles. Coordinating
their movement takes conscious effort. Tasks like typing and feeding myself
becomes a strenuous Olympic event. And, all my nerve endings are on full alert
and in pain. Then my emotions over flow
and the tears begin. I'm not a pretty sight in the heat.
All I can manage to do is to lie down and remain still. And that
is when frustration kicks in. There is so much I need to do and want to do,
but, on hot days, I am not physically able to do at that point, no matter how
hard I try.
Last night, getting into bed - something I've done a million
times before without incident, I caught my left heel on my scooter, throwing me
off balance. I slid, in slow motion, down in between the bed and my scooter. It
was one of those falls I knew was coming yet there was nothing I could do
except let it happen. Thankfully, the only collateral damage was a chunk ripped
out of my heel.
Today's expected high is 34c. Oh joy! That is why I am
writing this at 7am, in the cool of the morning. With the fan, blowing, it's
down to 28.4c in my office. I'm thinking today is a good day to catch the
Olympic spirit and actually watch some. Perhaps I'll witness Canada win its
first medal!
