Push it good. Puh-push it real good.
I’ve been working on transferring myself into bed, and it’s fucking hard — all the pushing and scooting — but it’s also more rewarding than I thought.
Over the past year, admittedly with fluctuating dedication, I’ve been working on my transfers in order to gain some independence for my evenings. And the closer I get, the more I feel other shifts happening within me…
After many failed attempts and unmet deadlines, thwarted by neck/shoulder issues, distractions, laziness, or just simply lack of motivation, I am now feeling like it’s finally real. This time feels different, fingers crossed.
I have 14 care shifts that I need to fill every single week. Seven days a week, two shifts a day, 14 shifts a week. I have a caregiver come in the morning to help me get ready for the day, and I have a caregiver who comes in the evening to close up shop, so to speak, and help me get my ass back in bed. And I’m ready for a change.
But it’s fucking hard, y’all. This is a whole lot of body to move with only arm function plus some upper back, and limited arm function at that. As my caregiver, Orah, so wisely expresses — legs. are. heavy.
However, I find myself more dedicated than ever, and making palpable gains on a weekly basis. I’m doing physical therapy twice a week, and trying my transfers at home twice a week as well. Although, let’s be real, I could be doing that more…OK I’m gonna start doing that more.
Every time I transfer myself into bed, I can feel myself getting stronger and going further. New muscles are firing, and existing ones doing more, and it feels liberating.
In the past, when I worked my ass off to achieve a physical goal, it was usually something dance-oriented. And in that way, it was something creative that ended up being something beautiful. Not only did it look cool, but it felt good to do.
This process of gaining some nighttime independence is functional. But I’m seeing that it’s so much more than that. It’s proving to be incredibly empowering, and although frustrating at times, it’s also, at other times, joyful as fuck.
It goes a bit like this:
I start by lining my chair up parallel with the bed, facing the foot of the bed. I then throw one leg up onto the bed, and then the other one, followed by a scooting technique.
Initiated by a series of head butts, I thrust myself forward, scooting my butt off of my wheelchair cushion like an awkward seal on sand. When my booty simply won’t budge any further, my caregiver gives me one last push.
Oh, and all the while I’m being silently supported, occasionally cheered on, and then laughed at, or rather with, as I throw my body exhaustingly onto my bed, roll onto my back, and exhale a big sigh of relief/success/failure — whatever, this is the best I can do right now, and I’m just glad to be doing this much.
It’s all at once wonderfully absurd, insanely challenging, slightly scary, and quite impressive, to be totally honest.
But the best part is all the unexpected extras that come with this whole effort for agency.
This strengthening process is teaching me about new levels of self-ownership and self-prioritization. It’s re-teaching me the importance of dedication and discipline, in order to meet goals. It’s forcing me to commit to myself by exercising healthy boundaries in ways that I never have before.
I’m scheduling workouts, and saying ‘no’ to things in ways that I haven’t been capable of doing in the past.
I’m learning what I have energy for and what I don’t.
I’m learning what I can say ‘no’ to and what I can say ‘yes’ to.
I’m learning to honor myself in this way.
I’m feeling more and more in my body everyday.
I’m being more mindful of how I’m moving, and my body mechanics — from the everyday mundane to the intentional workouts — in order to protect my body integrity.
At the same time, it’s a daily challenge to be mindful of where our bodies are at and making good habits stick. Just the other day, I was at a social gathering with my physical therapist, and the next day in therapy, she didn’t hesitate to give me shit about my posture.
It was one of those ‘fuuuuuuck, I know!’ moments where you’re like, ‘damn, this used to be second nature, and now I have to relearn this too? Ugh.’ I’m both grateful and annoyed that she’s so good at her job. Because it’s all too easy to slip back into what’s comfortable — our bad habits and not-so-good new normals.
But…the juice is worth the squeeze. I’m finding this discipline and awareness making a difference. My habits are changing, bit by bit.
And, it’s spilling over into the way that I approach my social life and my work life as well. It’s influencing my dedication to my goals, respect for my precious time and energy, and commitment to meaningful relationships.
Ultimately, emphasizing the importance of my agency and feeling good in my body is making me feel stronger and more empowered than ever, and it’s downright joyful. I’m finding myself literally smiling more, loving my body more.
I’m not saying that we need to be more independent in order to enjoy our lives more. Especially as people with disabilities, this can be a harmful narrative, and not one that I am subscribing to.
But there is something about surprising ourselves with our own strength, prioritizing ourselves, and challenging ourselves that can light us up.
Who knew that arduously scooting my (cute) ass across cotton sheets could be such a rich and powerful experience? Although silk sheets would probably be a good investment at this point.
Big love,
KP