I began seeing occupational and physical therapists twice weekly, making my schedule very busy. The common factor they felt was essential for my life was building my strength, as I was weaker than when I was swimming nine hours weekly. We also worked on the crucial transfers from every surface that I usually shift from, as stable transitions are vital. I needed to return to the pool as the water eliminated gravity, a ferocious fighting force against my land exercise.
I had been battling severe spasms in my legs for several weeks at that point, and no one had a resolution solution. The occupational therapist had no explanation, although she thought my makeshift seat belt was a brilliant and creative idea. On the other hand, my physical therapist recommended I speak with my doctor about attaining more muscle relaxers. However, while trying to ease the violent spasticity in my legs, I was unwilling to request more medication as I feel pills should be a last resort.
I was dealing with these violent muscle spasms on what felt like an hourly basis, causing black and blue bruises across my chest. With every move, I tightened the seat belt to prepare for an uncontrollable muscle convulsion that could launch me onto the floor. Muscle spasms continually through my body into my office desk and kitchen table, causing a green-blue bruise across my chest. Finally, I got to where I could feel when the spasm might happen and could prepare myself not to tip out of my chair. These spasms were exhausting, whether slamming my chest into a table or nearly thrusting me out of my chair onto the floor.
Doing the exercises for physical and occupational therapy was beneficial but very exhausting and time-consuming. Moving to Florida was a tremendous ordeal as this transition would be for life, meaning, foremost, finding all new doctors. This Floridian transformation was massive because I had to find civilian and VA doctors and find and set up para-transit for all my transportation needs. Then, of course, I needed the doctor’s note for the para-transit, and I needed the para-transit to get the doctor’s note; what a conundrum I was in. I also needed to find a grocery store, travel trip times, and make many phone calls to find various essential businesses and other necessities around my new town.
I was looking forward to sleeping that night, no matter how restless I was, as exhaustion filled every inch of my body. When exhausted, my speech slurred as my tongue felt like it was twice its size and caused communication complications. My muscles also weakened, and my thinking slowed as fatigue caught and crushed me like stepping on a bug, making sleep an urgent priority. Finally, I was so tired and weak that I slowly rolled into my office, shut down my computer, and turned off the lights to get much-needed mind-rebooting slumber.
My spasticity slowed as I lay my head on the pillow on my desk, yet I could not get quite comfortable. This consideration led me to loosen my seatbelt slightly, as it was too snug after having it tightly around my waist all day. I wrongfully assumed this experimental webbed belt could hold me if I had a violent twitch or a vicious twerk. The spasms picked up again, and in one sudden hard convulsion, my leg spasm threw me over the side of my chair, being held halfway to the ground by the loose belt.
So at 3:00 a.m. I hung by the webbed belt, so I tried to use my hands to climb up the drawers like a ladder, to no avail. The seat belt and my body weight squeezed me, making breathing an uphill battle that caused me to panic. My eyes quickly scanned the relatively dark area around me, trying to view my options as terror filled my brain while contemplating worst-case scenarios. Pinned by my office desk, filing cabinet, and a wall, there was no allowance or means of escape from this prison from which I was dangling.
As they say, I was quite literally hanging by a thread, though in this case, it was webbing tied as a makeshift seat belt. So, I had many thoughts running through my head, uselessly trying to encourage me on ways to get back into my wheelchair completely. Struggling to breathe, I knew that air was free, but the effort was not, and my breathing became more laborious. Be sure to come back next week and learn how I changed my prickly predicament, what injuries I acquired, and what happened next.
Oh, how wrong I was to loosen the seat belt.
Scott's MS Life 