Bed Made.✔ Check

104.5 kg  

I don't go to Facebook like I used to. I am a little bit embarrassed to admit that at one time I was going to Facebook three or four or five times a day just to see what was happening and probably (more honestly) to see if there'd been anything written about me or had anyone commented on any thing I've done on my Facebook page. Now however, I go maybe only one or two times a day depending on how active I feel. Anyway, I was kind of interested today when one of my old time acquaintances had a picture of the bed, made up, with something like “how many of you make your bed every day or is it just an illusion” or something very near to that. I am not a great bed maker even before I had but some folks would say would be a decent excuse.

I think my mother tried and it probably was not just me but I never really had a clean room. I usually shared a room with my older brother so I should not have to take all the blame but usually our bedroom was a mess. And I think my mom wanted us to keep it clean or to try keep it clean but we never really did. Maybe she was just too tired at that point in her life to care “what the boys did”. Seems like once or twice a year she would have enough and say “All right, you're in your room until you get it clean”. This would take literally hours. Probably, when taking a lot less time if I wasn't so preoccupied with other things. Of course everything changed after my accident.

Following my accident seemed like my older brother was gone for one reason or another. I had a giant old hospital bed and I had a room to myself. Now I'm thinking back on my old room, after my accident,I had to keep a semblance of order to my room I would not be able to go anywhere in my wheelchair. I usually had a desk of some sort that I had my electric typewriter and whatever else I was playing with at the time – – it was a mess usually. Couple times my mom cleaned it and I always liked it when she did that was pretty rare. I didn't make my bed though.

In the previous six months before I was thrown out of the house I actually started making the bed as best I could. Remember, this would've been after my last stenosis but as trying to get my life back in order. I actually started taking some pride in throwing my bed back together. Even this attempt at keeping my room together was pretty pathetic the fact that I did something with my bed that mildly constituted order made me feel kind of good. Now days I am making my bed about four days a week. These are the days when I don't have staff command the toilet and bathe me. The person I have now, Dana, is great she always makes my bed – – and I must say it's not altruistic happiness in rainbows must do something for the gimp but she has to wait 20-30 minutes following the insertion mini-enemeez. There really is no other place my apartment to relax so Dana makes the bed and lays down for her “power rest” until I call her to finish by process. I don't do a very good job of making the bed, probably more characteristically I straighten the bed, if I can. But try to line the sheets back up as well as blankets and with my sticks push a little there pull little here and eventually the bed begins to look passable for being “made”. Some days are better than others but all days when the bed is straightened up the whole room seems a bit more livable, and so is my life.