Wednesday 27 December 2017

Opening Doors

I was across the street at the mall today, shopping. All I really wanted were some groceries for dinner tomorrow. However a friend wanted to encourage me to get out, suggesting that we meet for coffee then do some random wandering through the mall to see if there were any interesting bargains to be had. There were not. By the time she was ready to go home, my back needed a rest. It's getting harder for me to sit up straight, even with the support of my power wheelchair.

Since I needed to go to Safeway for both drugs and food, I parked outside the store, inside the mall, leaned back in my chair and rested for about 15 minutes. I received the requisite stares of curiousity, leaving them be so that people could figure it out for themselves. After a rest, I went shopping.

My shopping excursion was uneventful, except for the absence of Romaine lettuce, thanks to an e-coli outbreak in eastern Canada. Safeway is part of Sobeys, the chain experiencing this issue with Romaine lettuce. They've told all their stores across Canada to remove this product in an abundance of caution. Much of their pre-packaged salad products contain Romaine lettuce. They are warehoused in Toronto and shipped nation wide. So an e-coli outbreak out east means no Romaine lettuce for me, unless I go to Co-op, about 20 minutes away in -20C weather. I would rather not.

It was on the way home that I started to have to deal with an issue which has been creeping up on me for some time. I noticed that I was having trouble pushing the button on my garage door opener. I can do it, but only if I focus on the button. The automatic push is gone. The same thing is happening with my ability to open doors, especially the heavy garage doors. I can still open them, but it is no longer a trivial task. I have to focus, to pay attention to the strength and coordination require to complete the action. This is how loss of function really becomes noticeable.

I has caused me to wonder. What will happen when I can no longer open those doors in the garage? Will I have to ask someone to accompany me every time I want to go outside? Will this pending loss of ability be the thing which drives me over the edge, taking me from living to dying? What other things will I lose along the way? How will that impact my ability to live in my own home, something I have sworn to do until death?

It's all a bit complicated, the way one thing impacts another. It's all small things adding to become big things. In the end, I am not sure what will get me first; death from complications of ALS, or sufficient losses such that my quality of life falls below what I see as an acceptable level. It's a terrible quandry, which is why I don't thing about it much. Better to focus on today, perhaps tomorrow, than worry about what might happen in a month or two. Who knows? They might find a treatment or cure that will work for me. I can hope for that. The rest is just noise and confusion.

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