Epiphany - summit fever

Family members noticed I was getting increasingly grouchy and impatient on the first and second days of my liberation by wheelchair. The evening of the second day after motoring around the neighborhood we sat out on the back porch of the facility and regardless of what we talked about I sensed in myself immense unease and it impacted how I interacted with loved ones.  They were right---and that was frustrating too---I had obviously lost my sense of being in the present and joyful in the now.  I wrote the previous blog entry just before bedtime with unease frothing over within me.

Early the next morning I contemplated the last sentence of the previous evening's blog post where I used the analogy of having a severe case of summit fever. I thought more about this and all of the sudden it became obvious: metaphorically I had been climbing for the last 6 weeks and in gaining use of the motorized wheelchair I found myself within striking distance of the next major encampment on the route, . . . perhaps with grand territorial views. There was no doubt I was indeed experiencing a form of summit fever.

And then it all came into proper perspective again and I laughed at myself; the frustration, unease, and impatience were all banished.  I understand summit fever and know what to do when it strikes. I have to be careful not to move forward if the route has become too dangerous or the weather too bad or some other condition is present that would put the climbing party at risk. I have to step back for a moment and reconsider whether all the conditions are within tolerable limits of risk and whether the climbing party's skills are up to the task.

Deep relaxing sigh.  I was ready for this next day regardless of what it would bring. And thankfully it brought the next step of the progression in mastering motorized wheelchair skills. My operational therapist surprised me by suggesting we use the Metro to practice bus entry and exit skills; I wouldn't have to wait 3 or 4 days to attempt this next progression.

Yehaw!

We (two operational therapists, my sister Laura and brother-in-law Bill) motored to the bus stop outside of Anderson House and boarded the 348 headed for the Northgate Transit Center.  Navigating the ramp up into the bus was easy but making turns to get the wheelchair positioned inside the bus was challenging, . . . but doable.  It was grand sitting up front in the wheelchair accessible spot with excellent views of the street ahead.

Rather than going all the way to the transit center we disembarked  as we arrived at Northgate Mall  so that we could make a more realistic transition from one bus to another . Maneuvering out of the bus was much easier than getting situated within the bus. Before I knew it we were back at Anderson house and my occupational therapist had given me two thumbs up for a successful journey.

Starting the next day I would be free to go wherever I wanted to on Metro!