Tag: #wheelchair bound

Today’s Reality

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Today’s Reality 

Today’s Reality

Note: This is my first article to appear on the Calamity News and Politics website. In fact, its my first article to appear anywhere. Thanks, Calamity.

 

By Poleeta Wallace

 

Assistive Devices

I’m going to be 74 years old next month. My biggest problem is mobility. After an injury last year I need a walker, actually the device my doc provided me is called a Rollator. You’ve probably seen them. They have a seat for the user. Under the seat there is always a storage compartment, great for a book, paperwork, or a purse. The rollator is definitely a better appliance than the original aluminum walker. The aluminum walkers are commonly given out post lower extremity injury or surgery. They are nothing more than basic support, the introductory model you might say. The  two back legs frequently have been outfitted with tennis balls so they slide easier across uncarpeted surfaces.

My Younger Guy

My husband, Dan, a younger guy of 66 years of age, requires a wheelchair if there is any chance he may be required to traverse more than about 10 feet. Thank God, Dan is still able to use a rollator inside our house. If  you haven’t seen one of those electric wheelchairs, let me tell you they are ‘effing HUGE. At least his is, but he’s also a big guy. We would need to have a carpenter enlarge at least one outside doorway if he has to bring that damn thing inside the house. Then what; widen the hallways even more and the doorways. Honestly, I’m feeling the pressure, because the chance of Dan becoming permanently wheelchair bound is a fast approaching reality and the lurking prognosis of dementia has raised its ugly head.

Oh, NO, Me Too

I rarely need a wheelchair, except for functions or appointments that are long both in length of time and distance required to participate in the activity. Because of my irregular wheelchair use I have a manual wheelchair,  “the Big Mo” my friend calls it. Definitely, its a pain-in-the-ass loading Big Mo into the back of the car and then unloading the bitch. Last year, right after my back injury I had to use “Big Mo”  24/7 for nearly six weeks. There are still scrapes on the walls of the hallway where the wheelchair wheels  scratched off the paint. The manual chairs are a real challenge and are difficult to maneuver-thus the deep scars on the plaster walls.

Many Years Ago

Dan and I built our 1,930 square foot, 3 bedroom, two and a 1/2 bath, single level, ranch style, “forever” house on 12 incredible acres with its own beautifully flowing creek and a lovely pond, just north of Vancouver, WA in 1993. That was nearly thirty five years ago. We’ve done numerous updates over the years. A beautiful new guest bath in 2008. A mammoth new deck with fishing pier in 2010, a new kitchen in 2012 the year before I retired, then last year with our disabilities we went all out on a glammed up newly enlarged walk in shower for the master bath. New paint and flooring about every 10 years. Our plan, before reality intervened, was to live in this house until we died. Since my recent disability I am questioning that forever thinking.

Wonder Woman

In 1990 Dan was in management at UPS and I was an RN working at Kaiser Hospital in North Portland. I was in my mid-forties and felt as strong and fit as Wonder Woman. Dan, in his mid-thirties was strong and vigorous. At the time, we owned a fabulous 1920’s craftsman in Portland’s tree lined Ladd’s Addition neighborhood. After a lot of discussion we decided to look for a 5-10 acre piece of property and build a more modern house with a serious eye on retirement and our golden years. A friend of Dan’s who was an architect spent many hours talking with us over Chardonnay about what we wanted, and thought we’d need as we aged. As a nurse I saw the realities of aging up close and realized I needed to spend a bit of time in the Physical Therapy Department and talk to staff about what adaptations we should be making during construction instead of trying to Gerry rig changes later.

Eating Right and Exercising

With only one child it was easy to ski in the winter, hike, bike, and swim the rest of the year. We watched our weight and ate for good health.  We wanted to ‘live long and prosper’ and we were willing to put a lot of effort into staying healthy. Dan’s from strong German stock, straight from the old country with family members living well into their nineties. I was more of a mutt, having English, Irish and Dutch forefathers but at that time my Aunt Lizzie was an amazing 106 years old and I had numerous older relatives several in their late 80’s and early 90’s. These people weren’t in nursing homes or assisted living; they were on their own and enjoying it.  The point being, with a little work and preparation we hoped for the same.

2026 Reality

Planning is a good thing, I highly recommend it. However it is not always a predictor of what will really happen in your life. My point in concluding this piece is that no matter how hard you try to plan for your golden years it’s a crap shoot. You can plan for wider hallways, eliminate stairs, create extra storage for durable medical devices, you can save every extra nickle and dime for that extended retirement, but sometimes the reality of growing disabilities and how those disabilities shrink our world complicate everything. Loss of mobility and mental capacities is more than planning for wide open rooms and walk-in showers. In my case at least, all that planning has turned out to have been more a hope and a prayer than reality.

 

 

 

Street View, NO Kings Protest

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Street View, NO Kings Protest

Street View, NO Kings Protest

By David L. Shadrick

Darlene, John, Vajra, and I arrived at the NO Kings protest at 9:55 for the 10 o’clock start. There was already a huge crowd of loud and noisy citizens. John was pushing my wheelchair, while Darlene, Vajra, and I, carried our signs, musical instruments and water.

The Josephine County Courthouse, just happens to be directly across 6th Street from the Republican Party headquarters. During the three previous protests, the Trumpers could only marshal 3 or 4 pro Trumpers to yell insults in our direction. Today, however, the Trump supporters, numbered as many as a dozen, carrying American flags and Trump Won Signs.

There wasn’t an inch of sidewalk space to be had on either side of the street due to NO Kings protesters crowding even the area in front of the Republican Headquarters. As we thought through  our options Darlene noticed a shady spot with an unoccupied bench a block down 6th Street on the Republican side of the street, not exactly in the middle of the action but the location made us a visible commodity, quite visible in fact.

I grabbed my trusty 8647 sign, my goat horn, and then rolled out onto the sidewalk where my sign could be easily seen by the slow moving and horn honking traffic. I could hear John and Vajra drumming while  Darlene rang her cow bell. We were basically a block down the street from the biggest part of the crowd when a dour looking Trumper made his way through the densest part of the crowd, heading in my direction. When he got close he said with a sneer, “Your sign is disgusting.”

I replied, “What’s disgusting are cuts to Medicare, Medicaid, Social Security, and Veteran’s benefits.”

After several minutes of harassing a disabled veteran  in a wheelchair he bent down close to my face and repeated, “your sign is still disgusting,” before retreating south toward the Wunder Bar.

The next Trumpers came in a gang of three, walking through the same crowd of protesters, without saying a word, making a bee line straight for me, apparently my 8647 sign really ticked them off. The first man, suggested quite irritably, that I “should go back to (my) pathetic life.” Before I could answer, I was interrupted by the second Trumper in the group, who was seemingly a decent person. He asked me why I was protesting and I told him that the cuts to all the safety net programs were going to force me to sleep in the street or on his couch. “Ok, well, I can understand that might be a problem,” he said, before he walked on. The third person in the group was a nicely dressed woman who suggested she liked “ice in (her) soda,” to Darlene who was waving a sign that said, “I.C.E. is best C-R-U-S-H-E-D.  After their interaction with us, the three simply got in a car and drove away.

While I was eagerly blowing my goat horn, another Trumper ran up in front of me and whipped out a megaphone from behind his back, and began chanting, “GO TRUMP, GO TRUMP, GO TRUMP” to which I yelled, “and you go with him.” From behind me I heard a chorus of voices, led by Darlene, chanting, “8647, 8647, 8647.” The volume of the chant grew and the increasing furor sent the megaphone master retreating back to the safety of the six remaining Trumpers securing the Republican headquarters.

An old white guy, in a battered pickup slowed down to yell “fuck you,” as he passed.

“Is that the only word you know?” I demanded at the top of my lungs.

He again repeated the “fuck you” insult.

And I repeated, “is that the only word you know?”

The third time he said, “fuck you,” I again repeated my question, “is that the only word you know?”

The frustrated old fart, gunned his truck engine, and headed down the street, after tossing, “asshole,” in my direction; at last proving, even Trumpers know more than two words.

Another Trump friendly driver, waved his two middle fingers in my direction before causing his rig to belch a huge cloud of black diesel smoke, leading protestors close by to cough, sputter, and spit. I ignored him.

The middle finger salutes, the cursing, the belching trucks, the negativity, the insults, all came from the MAGA crowd. Not one person on the No Kings protestors side was rude or insulting to anyone, certainly not to the first wheelchair bound person they could find.

 

Home Care; My Personal Experience

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Home Care; My Personal Experience

Home Care Workers keep people with aging and disabilities in their homes

Home Care; My Personal Experience

Editor: Home Care programs administered through state and federal services are helping struggling families keep disabled family members living at home vs being placed in a nursing home. The following article is a reprint of an article written by me, nearly a decade ago. I will be publishing an update on the state of Home Care in 2023 sometime within the coming week.

By D. S. Mitchell

Caregiver Risks

Most of the people called on to help an ill or disabled family member have no training in being a caregiver. Not only that, but many spouses, sisters, brothers, sons and daughters have their own health problems and physical limitations. The risks of being a family caregiver is premature aging, sickness, death, depression, anger, resentment, and potential financial loss. Aside from that, it can be rewarding and more worthwhile than anything you will ever do.

Financial Resources Make the Difference

Receiving affordable or free home care may be what makes the difference between a family member being able to stay in their home or being moved into an assisted living facility or nursing home. One in five Americans provide unpaid care to family members so they can continue to live in their home, according to a recent AARP report.

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