Although the light was bleeding through the window blinds, I could barely see the empty floor before me. Struggling to take in air as the seat belt continued to crush my stomach caused panic to run through my brain, full of the worst-case scenarios. Then, finally, I understood that being unable to breathe oxygen was terrible as the human body needed air for life to exist. I did not know if mine would last much longer. Quickly, I ran through the sequence of events in my head about what I had done and could have done, but I urgently changed my thoughts to the task at hand: escape.

It was hard to catch my breath, like trying to grasp a Vaseline-coated eel, and I feared passing out in this perilous, pendulous position. I continued struggling to gain freedom from my swinging prison. It was like an elephant sitting on my chest, and I could not take in air. I tried again to climb the drawers, hoping to lift enough to find the elusive air I desperately needed, yet I was unsuccessful. My heart was pounding as I fiercely tried anything to escape what I thought would be an extremely odd final resting place, or hanging place, as it were.

In the chaotic panic, I forgot that when I tie something onto my body, I always use a quick-release knot as emergencies could happen. However, in the relatively dark space, I had to find the rope’s end, which was the quick-release part of the webbing. So, I hung like a Christmas ornament floating on a tree; I flopped around like a fish out of water, trying to escape this awkward sling swing. I was looking for the correct part to pull and release me from this jungle gym jail, end this mess, and rescue this day and me.

I found an end piece to the belt and pulled with dwindling strength the longer I hung, trying to breathe. The more I tugged in this pendulum position, the more I realized I had the wrong end, and I quickly began the hunt for the other piece. As I dangled in my dark office, my arms got heavy and reaching became challenging, meaning I needed to rest. I did not feel I had the time, but I stopped and took several slow, deep breaths to allow my muscles a brief respite. It was a struggle for this much-needed rest, but I was successful as I quickly found the other end of this makeshift seat belt and yanked on it with newfound vigor.

After my brief rest, I had a newfound strength, though it took some effort to free me from the not-so-quick-release knot I tied. Dropping like a rock, I crashed and hit my neck when I heard something click, scaring me as the sound continually echoed in my head after my landing. I crashed with my chest down, face and neck twisted to the right, and I feared moving as I was sure my neck had snapped on the way down. With no strength to move, I was terrified of shifting my body, as I knew neck injuries could be quite severe. So, a little after 3:00 a.m. I was flat on the floor and could not move because of my strength and my neck with no phone; then I remembered my smart speaker.

Pain radiated through my body as the fall was easy, but the landing was brutal as I fell on hard surface flooring. I spoke as loudly and clearly as possible with my face pressed against the floor and said, “Alexa, call 911.” Without haste, she replied with a devastating response, telling me she could not call Emergency Services from that device. I hated to call anyone that early in the morning, but this was what they called an emergency, so I said, “Alexa, call Mom.” Her phone did not even ring and immediately went to voicemail, so I continued calling and filling her voicemail until the mailbox was full.

So, from three o’clock until six in the morning, I continued to call my mom’s phone, asking, in fact, begging for help. I tried to call other people, but my smart speaker would not allow me to call anyone else. Contemplating life and thinking I had lived a good life, I knew I had put plenty of positivity into the world, so if this was the end, I was okay with it. I know that is a little dramatic, but I would be lying if I did not say that was precisely how I felt as I waited, tired and in pain. Stay tuned till next week to hear the dramatic ending of this vicious story.

Your imagination is so much worse than reality.

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, painfully marring my midsection. With every move, I tightened the seat belt to prepare for an uncontrollable muscle convulsion that could launch me onto the floor. These muscle eruptions slammed my body into my office desk and kitchen table, causing bruises of blue and green across my chest. Finally, I got to where I could feel when the twitches might happen and could prepare myself not to tip out of my chair.

The exercises for therapy were beneficial, exhausting, and challenging to do in the gravity of the land and took a lot of time. Moving to Florida was a tremendous ordeal as this transition would be for life, meaning, foremost, finding all new doctors and arranging transportation. Then I needed the doctor’s note for paratransit and the paratransit to get the doctor’s note; what a conundrum. I also needed to find a grocery store and make many phone calls to find essential businesses and other necessities.

I looked forward to sleeping that night, no matter how restless I was, as exhaustion filled every inch of my body. When extremely tired, my speech slurred as my tongue felt as big as a bratwurst, which caused communication complications. My muscles were weaker, 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 that I slowly rolled into my office and turned off the computer and lights to get a much-needed mind-rebooting slumber.

My spasticity slowed as I laid my head on my desk on a pillow, yet I could not get quite comfortable as my body felt like it was buzzing. These feelings led me to loosen my seat belt 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. Suddenly, a ferocious leg convulsion threw me over the side of my chair making me hang six inches off the ground by the loose belt.

So, at 3 AM, I hung by the webbed belt, quickly scanning the dark area, filled with terror, trying to find my options. The seat belt and my body weight squeezed me, making breathing an uphill battle that caused me to panic. I tried to use my hands to climb up the desk drawers like a ladder but was unsuccessful. My desk, filing cabinet, and a wall gave no allowance for movement and no way to escape this prison from which I dangled.

As they say, I was quite literally hanging by a thread, though in this case, it was webbing tied as a poorly executed seat belt. So, I had many thoughts running through my head, uselessly trying to encourage me to get back into my wheelchair completely. Struggling to breathe, I knew the air was free, but the effort was not, and my breathing became more laborious. Be sure to return next week and learn how I changed my prickly predicament, what injuries I gained, and what happened next.

Oh, how wrong I was to loosen the seat belt.