Page 3

from M:

This is my first blog post ever and I am a little nervous.  I have been putting it off because I kept thinking the first one should be something grand and a broad dramatic heartfelt narrative about my current place in the universe.  Not about the new renters in our orange birdhouse. When I get a new journal, or list pad or a wonderful spiral notebook, I always leave the first 2 pages blank because I know I will need to go back and add that beginning masterpiece.  It never happens so don’t wait for it.  I’m just going to start on Page 3.

Yesterday my brother Dail, who is a pretty famous architect, a wizardly woodworker and the best person I know, came to my house and brought wooden gifts he made for me.  I’ll show pictures of the beautiful “chair rail” another time but first "the steps".

I love our bed.  It has four very skinny posts that go almost to the ceiling and on each of them sits a little hand decorated bird house.  It is very high. 

When I slide out of bed in the morning, by the time my feet hit the ground,  I'm standing up.  So efficient and helpful for those of us who have a little trouble getting our somewhat uncooperative bodies out of bed. Not so much on the getting in the bed part.  In my preALS days, I would do a somewhat awkward one legged jump but that’s way beyond awkward now so I got the wooden “stoof” we used to help little ones reach the sink.  Kinda worked but it was equal to 2 steps high so getting on the stoof was about as hard as getting in the bed.  I refused to cut the legs off my princess bed!  2 weeks ago Dail and sister-in-law Artie took us to their glorious mountain house, and while sipping combustibles (Dail’s word for bourbon) in front of a fire, Bill and I described the previously unconsidered mobility challenges confronting a person with ALS - like getting into bed.  Dail suddenly smiled big and said “I can help. I can build steps. That’s easy.” (I don't think building steps could possibly be easy.) “That’s what I love to do.  Cut wood up and put it back together!”  And he did. These steps are perfect. I can get into bed with no fear, no gymnastics, no sweat and Bill doesn't look terrified that he is going to either catch me or pick me up off the floor. Dail does something he loves to do - wood - for somebody he loves - me - and I get a solution to a problem - bed landing - made by somebody I love - him.  How perfect is that!


There, I did it.  Page 3.